I’ve always thought of myself as someone who doesn’t like to read. Reading was something I did in English class, and then only when truly necessary.
But, lately I’ve been more interested in books. And I have some weird gaps in my class schedule, so I got a book from the library, and … well, I read it. And I loved it.
The first book I read was Galveston, a sort of country noir thriller by a new author, Nic Pizzolatto. It’s gritty, beautiful, sad, dark, fun, violent, sexy, and above all, the prose is wonderfully descriptive and evocative. The story was very good, but it did have a few flaws. But I could read that beautiful prose all day long.
Now I’m reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, and I’m loving it, too. It’s very different, of course, but it’s also very well-written, thought-provoking, a little frightening, and hilarious. I’m also amazed at how ahead of its time it was. For a book written in the 1930s, it hardly seems to have aged at all.