Well, so back to reading.
I just recently read, and it took me once trying and giving up, but this time I stuck it out, but anyway, so yeah. I recently read Oil! and you know what? I did NOT hate it. I'm not going to say it was my favorite book ever, but it didn't dry me out like the Sahara this time, and I actually found myself caring about the characters. A little bit. Which is fine, because I don't think Upton Sinclair cared about them, either, he was just using them as a vessel to get his politics on the paper. It's all good, Upton. Why you think I blog?
Anyway, at the end of it, I was dis-settled and I wanted something neater, with a happier ending, all tied up like a bow, or so I thought. So, I picked up an old favorite that I have, literally, read a hundred times or so. Pride and Prejudice (without zombies, this time). I KNOW how this book ends, and so I cruised right along. Picked up a few things I had missed before, even.
And then, you know what? I started to get right to the end, right where Bingley and Jane work it out, and then Darcy, and... I put it away.
I KNOW.
Because, you know what? Who gives a shit if Elizabeth and Darcy both get over their damn selves and see eye to eye? Who gives a shit if Lydia DID get engaged? NOBODY, that's who. Whom.
Fuck it, Austen. You are unrealistic and quite silly to me now, and I don't want to read you, so there. SO THERE.
Meanwhile, I had begun an audiobook, as I do, and it's a Steven King book called 11-22-63, and my expectations were low, but... it's actually perfect. A little dark, a little creepy, a tiny bit fantastic, and mostly, just pretty good. Not too much lovey dovey (thanks be to St. Barf-olomew) and a good bit of history, which, you know, Nerdette over here loves.
So there you go. I have hence come to the conclusion that Steven King is the perfect read for divorcing smart girl people.
Additionally, I'm reading Dracula, because if I'm not reading a classic at all times, I feel wrong.
Books mother-effing rock.
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