Don’t message me that it’s not the title of the 3rd book I know it’s not the title of the 3rd book it’s just a dumb joke take it easy

Man, yesterday’s post was dark. Sorry about that.

I wrote the whole thing in my head as I was driving down to be with dad at his radiation treatment.

(Is that bragging? The whole bit about “writing in my head?” It sounds like bragging. I don’t mean to say, “Oh, wow, hey, check me out, I can compose personal essays in my head, ain’t I talented?!” I just don’t know if other people, other writers, do this sort of stuff. They must. Right? I don’t f***ing know. Whatever. Nobody reads this.)

I live about an hour away from the cancer center, and I wanted to keep my mind occupied while I drove, so I thought I’d see if I could write (and, more importantly, remember) a whole blog post as I was driving.

Most of the time, I have a vague idea of what I want to talk about when I start blogging and I just go with it. It’s not like I want to spend hours upon hours pouring over every word and phrase of a post, rewriting and second-guessing all my choices. I do do that sometimes, but not always, and the way I write has a natural flow to it, so I’m usually fine with what happens “off-the-cuff.”

This time, though, I planned everything out ahead of time. How many paragraphs would there be, what would the images look like, where would those images go, which parts of the text would I highlight, all that fun stuff.

As the wheels rumbled and thumped and the strange miles of God’s greenish-brown country blurred by, I barely noticed. I was in my head, making little blocks of text and pictures. Was I driving safely? Maybe. Maybe not. Who’s to say?

I moved sentences around deleted some things and kept others and decided to end the whole thing by trying to capture a particular visual that I’d been dwelling on: My dad’s hand. When I got to the cancer center, I sat down and typed it all out while I was waiting for Dad to get there. (I was able to do this because I am one of those idiots who shows up to doctor’s appointments 45 minutes early.)

Anywho. I think writing with everything all planned out like that is what caused the post to be as dark as it was. It lost…spontaneity, I guess. A humor that sometimes pops out when I’m going off-the-cuff.

Some may say it’s overrated–that you ought to know precisely what you wish convey and that every word ought to carry you to that purpose with brevity and wit. But there’s something to be said for not knowing what’s next, for “going off-the-cuff.” Because “going off-the-cuff “is what allows me to share with you things like a drawing I did of the world’s longest penis.

Anywho.

I finished the 2nd book of the Dungeon Crawler Carl series last night. I’d been listening to it while lying in bed, mostly, but I’d also had a lot of time to read the physical book while at Dad’s appointments. Usually, though, I’d was listening. And things were getting fragmented.

Each night, while the audiobook was going, I’d fall asleep and wake up at odd intervals. Each time, I’d back up the book to the last thing I remembered hearing. As a result, I heard some parts once or twice. Some parts I heard three or more times. I’m sure there are parts I totally skipped over, just as I’m sure all this must have really annoyed Sarah.

Mostly, though, I think I got everything. It was oddly satisfying. The style is really growing on me, even though it’s starting to read like a DM turning a D&D campaign into one big novel. That may actually be the case, but the characters are funny, there’s graphic violence, lots of quirks, and it’s fast-paced enough to enjoy listening to in little chunks 4-5 times because you keep falling asleep.

Plus, the ending is clever and absolutely left me wanting to hear more of it right now.

So, I’m starting the 3rd book without delay. Carl’s Anarchic Cookery Set.” Something like that.

A BLANK of BLANK and BLANK

Upon finishing “GIlgamesh,” I’ve moved on to, “A Court of Thorns and Roses” by Sarah J. Maas. (Is that the right number of “A”s? Or are there three? Maaas? Maaaas?)

I don’t know why I downloaded it. I don’t know why I’m reading it. Why does anybody do anything?

That isn’t me being saturnine — I’m just saying that I need to be more open in my criteria for selecting what I read. I feel like I turn my nose up at too many books.

In 2008 or 2009, back when I was living in Korea, some friends and I went to see the first “Twilight” movie on accident. We had no idea what it was about (other than there were vampires in it — “So it’s probably a scary movie, right?”), and my friends didn’t exactly “warm up” to the subject matter. Some of them were even afraid to show their faces in daylight after that experience.

I was right there with them, until I happened to pick up the book version of “Twilight” at the bus station one night. I bought it while I was waiting for a bus from Seoul to Cheong-ju, which wasn’t a bad ride if you had a book, and I was desperate. (It wasn’t easy to get English books in Korea back then — you had to read what was available, and “Twilight” was available.)

The book hooked me immediately. Again, I don’t really know why. And it’s easy to poke fun at that series. The mindlessness of it? The heavy-handedness? The jarringly bad dialogue? Something about them kept me coming back, though, time after time, book after book. I turned down offers to go do actual things in favor of staying home and reading “Twilight.” I loaned the book to people and said, “I know it’s controversial, but I’m on team Jacob!”

(I wasn’t, though. I just like to get a rise out of people. #stillteamedward)

Sure, I was probably just being ironic and the worst kind of hipster, but my point is that I got a kick out of those books and still do. And, if I hadn’t accidentally stumbled into what I thought was a horror movie, I would have never even heard of them.

I don’t mean to equate “Twilight” and “A Court of Thorns and Roses,” but I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Anywho. Since “Twilight,” I’ve been a little less hesitant to read the mass-published powerhouses of Y.A. and Fantasy, even though they all have names like, “A BLANK of BLANK and BLANK,” and, I’m pretty sure, are just thinly-veiled excuses for librarians to read pornography.

So, I’ll give Sarah J. “Mucho” Maas a try. What harm can it do? (“Harm? Harm, Bella? All I can do is harm you. This is the skin of a monster! A twinkling monster!” *swoon*)