Okay, as you know, Marissa is super, super busy, so she's gone dark for a while. So dark, I can't even help her out until things lighten up enough for her to give me marching orders. And that means that we have to stay out of trouble all by ourselves on Mondays and Thursdays. Eh hem. So are you ready?
I want to discuss books. From a writerly perspective, from a readerly perspective, from a change the face of the universe perspective. Talk. Learn. Grow. Kind of a glorified book club, for writers. There may be wine. (Okay, prosecco.) And chocolate. Much chocolate.
The way I'm thinking we might do this, on Thursdays we take names. You tell me what books you read recently that blew you away, and why they rocked you. Hopefully by Thursday night we will have a sort of consensus, and anyone who hasn't read it can glance at it, start it, read the cheat sheets, or at least go buy it if you are still lucky enough to have a bookstore somewhere within driving distance. Then on Monday, we will kick off our shoes and dish about what "rules" were broken, what "rules" were kept, what worked, what didn't work, what almost worked, and what created magic when it shouldn't have worked at all. Because you know what, we all look for blueprints, and that's fine. Necessary even. We have to know the structure, recognize and understand the construction techniques and the masterpieces others have built, before we can tread our own path. But at some point, we have to get off the highway and follow the shooting star in the wilderness.
I didn't expect to see the Perseids the other night. In fact, I forgot all about them. I didn't even connect the two shooting stars my daughter saw while we were driving with the meteor shower I vaguely knew was coming. And then I was just sitting on the couch with my son catching up on the final episode of Game of Thrones, and a bright green flash arced past the window and disappeared into the horizon. We went out and watched for an hour after that and never saw anything. I'm not sure if that was a bad thing. I find its usually the unexpected flashes of brilliance that make the biggest impact.
I'm thinking of a book for next Monday. In its own way, that book is this generation's Wizard of Oz. It's a hero's journey. It's even based on Cervantes' brilliant (okay, in my opinion it totally is, and I'll take on anyone who says otherwise) The Ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote of La Mancha. I even gave you a hint in the title of this post.
What do you think? Will that book work, or can you think of something else you read recently that accelerated your short, cotton stocking into an alternate dimension? (You do realize that's what happens to all those missing socks, right? One goes missing every time someone reads something spectacular.)