So I found this author that I like...no dare say I love. I loved reading her book, just reading her words, I honestly didn't even care if they were happy or sad words. I just loved the rhythm she wrote in and the way she described things. It was therapeutic for me. Then I made a massively huge mistake. A mistake I will never make again. After finishing her book, I googled her. I googled her and I found her. Then I found a video of her reading from that beloved book. It was the biggest disappointment. She didn't read it the way I read it. She didn't read it with the confidence and ease that I think she wrote it in. I'm sure the way that I was feeling is the grown-up equivalent of finding out there is no real Santa (yep thats right, I never believed in Santa as a kid, and I'm not even sad about it). Unfairly, I decided I couldn't bear to read any of her other books. (In case you can't tell I'm an all or nothing type of girl.) I find myself getting lost in the words and rhythms of a few new authors these days and I have used all my self-control to keep from googling, especially videos. I don't want to lose anymore heroes and heroins, day dreams and poignant perspectives.
Here is the kicker though. Last night Austin and I were watching a movie about a girl who lost her arm in a freak accident. As I was watching her learn how to slice an orange a new way, I thought to myself "what would I have to re-learn?" Then I was relieved when it dawned on me, "my writing comes from my brain so I could totally dictate it or something like that." Then came reality, clashing like a noisy gong. If I couldn't physically type out the words I think I would lose my rhythm. I don't ever speak the way I write. I don't journal the way I type. I only type the way I write. Or is it write the way I type? Either way, I need to work really hard to wean my "writing rhythm" away from my "typing rhythm," is this making any sense?
I can conclude that one day if I'm lucky enough to have a book that someone loves as much as I loved the previously mentioned book, then I would probably break her heart too if I ever read aloud.
Here is the kicker though. Last night Austin and I were watching a movie about a girl who lost her arm in a freak accident. As I was watching her learn how to slice an orange a new way, I thought to myself "what would I have to re-learn?" Then I was relieved when it dawned on me, "my writing comes from my brain so I could totally dictate it or something like that." Then came reality, clashing like a noisy gong. If I couldn't physically type out the words I think I would lose my rhythm. I don't ever speak the way I write. I don't journal the way I type. I only type the way I write. Or is it write the way I type? Either way, I need to work really hard to wean my "writing rhythm" away from my "typing rhythm," is this making any sense?
I can conclude that one day if I'm lucky enough to have a book that someone loves as much as I loved the previously mentioned book, then I would probably break her heart too if I ever read aloud.
love you to pieces friend. :)
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