The reality is a bit dull. We sit there and read the words. We think about them, and make suggestions. We do this for hours and hours and hours until we’re immersed in the world of your book. The rest is just details. Do we read the book once through slowly, or make multiple passes on the text? Do we want the book in one giant Word file, or a bunch of little ones? read more »
It didn’t take me more than the first two paragraphs of I Am Not This Body for me to feel both repelled by and compelled. Its title in the New York Times’ Opinionator blog had intrigued me, and I clicked it open anticipating musing on the philosophical, the existential, the spiritual. Instead, I read on compelled by that sense of horrified fascination one feels at a traffic accident. By the time I reached the midpoint of Brian J. Stanley’s popular essay, I felt a feminist rant coming on strong. To me, this was blatantly the writing of a man in a man’s world. Had I been reading a print newspaper I’d have hurled it down in disgust while preaching loudly to the dog. Tablets are a little too pricey for that. But the dog is female, too–so she can relate. read more »
Immersive reading was my drug through an unhappy childhood and adolescence, with all the desperate need and avoidance of unpleasant reality that addiction entails. Books damaged my eyes rather than my liver, but they gave far more than they took. I lived more in books than in my hometown. I mainlined stories and characters and other lands, other realities.
There are worse ways to shut out the world. read more »
Viewpoint is a slippery thing. When you’re using first person–as I’m doing right now–what the narrator should know is easy to figure out: The narrator knows exactly what the main character does. But when you’re using third-person, that narrator can know anything at all, and things get a little trickier. read more »
But despite these toys, my favourite way of passing the time was playing with the magnets on the fridge. read more »