Talking about books is important. So is writing about them. I have my theoretical reasons for thinking this is true, the things I say to the brilliant creative writing class I teach at a small liberal arts college (in my head): “reading is a collaboration between the reader and the writer, each doing their own share of the work and bringing meaning to the text in equal parts…”
And I have my selfish reasons. Lots of selfish reasons. First, when I’m reading something, especially if I’m confused or outraged or in love with it, I want someone (or a whole internet of a people!) to shout or rhapsodize to, or better yet, with. Second, when I write a book, I certainly want people to write about it all over the internet (in the rhapsodizing kind of way). Third, I want to keep track of what I’ve read. When people ask what I’m reading, if I don’t have it on me, I often blank out. I think this block is born from the response I get sometimes when I say I’m a writer: “That sounds fun!” Since reading is half the work of a writer, I want to prove I’m working hard at it, then, of course, panic and can’t.
Hence this new blog (I wanted to get through this post without that word, but there it is). It’s about books, not rating or reviewing them, but talking about them. Please join in.