Sunday, July 03, 2005
Fact or Fiction
Those who know me best can tell you that I'm always reading at least two books at any given time: one fiction and one non-fiction. I've not always been a big reader. I've read Beowulf and Gulliver's Travels, but I never made it past page three of Portrait of an Artist As a Young Man. At Northview High School, I almost always (sorry mom and dad, thank you Cliff's Notes) read the required reading, but was always perplexed by my brother's thirst for books. His favorite author was Stephen King. He could finish a six-pound book in a matter of days. I just thought he was crazy. A couple of years ago, I finally caught the bug. It started out with strictly non-fiction (How to Win Friends & Influence People, by Dale Carnegie), but over time has progressed to fiction. I'm currently reading The Last Juror, by John Grisham. I'll just say that it is a page-turner. Here is a taste from page 124:
Roughly twelve months earlier I had been living on the third floor of a fraternity house in Syracuse, New York, attending class occasionally, working hard to be a good soldier in the sexual revolution, drinking prodigious amounts af alcohol, smoking pot, sleeping until noon anytime I felt like it, and for exercise I'd hustle over to the next antiwar rally and scream at the police. I thought I had problems. How I'd gone from there to a witness chair in the Ford County courtroom was suddenly very unclear to me.
Roughly twelve months earlier I had been living on the third floor of a fraternity house in Syracuse, New York, attending class occasionally, working hard to be a good soldier in the sexual revolution, drinking prodigious amounts af alcohol, smoking pot, sleeping until noon anytime I felt like it, and for exercise I'd hustle over to the next antiwar rally and scream at the police. I thought I had problems. How I'd gone from there to a witness chair in the Ford County courtroom was suddenly very unclear to me.
