Responses

I’ve found myself dashing off detailed responses to everything I read once I’m done with it.  Well, not everything.  Usually when I’m reading at work or a doctors office or wherever I don’t feel the need to respond to it, and even if I did I wouldn’t exactly be given the time.  But just about anything I read at home, on my days off or in the hour or so between when I say I’m going to bed and when I actually fall asleep, I have this unrelenting desire to force someone to listen to my opinions on what I just read.  The fact that a blank notebook can’t actually “hear” me or “appreciate” what I’m saying doesn’t matter – I just want an audience!  It reminds me of being in college, where some professors forced you to keep a journal or just write a response paper week after week after week.  I hated that shit.  If you disliked a book or story they liked, and you trashed it in your response, you got a lower grade for not “understanding” as well as they wanted you too.  I’m the first to admit I will trash the shit out of something because I don’t get it–fuck you, The Sound and The Fury–but sometimes I was right.  We shouldn’t have been reading Twilight in a college Adolescent Lit class.  But that’s old news.  The important news is that now that I no longer have to worry about whether or not someone else will agree with me, I’m writing left right and center.  All the damn time.  About anything at all I want.  My writers block is gone!  Hurrah!

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