Ever read a book and forgot you did? It's odd that sometimes a book will make little impression on me but then I re-read it and am awed by it.
I'm still unpacking books that have been in storage for years and putting them out on my new bookshelves. A lot of books. Some I've never read.
Years ago(ten or eleven) I went to the Mid-South Booksellers Conference (I believe that's what it was called). I came home with tons of books. If I remember right, when I got home, I spread them out on the table and counted about 80 books.
One of those books was an ARC of The Poet by Michael Connelly. I remember when it came out it got great reviews. Yet here it sat packed away in a box.
I started reading it. It felt familiar. I figured I had started it, but then set it aside.
I'm about two-thirds of the way through it and it's still feeling familiar.
I must have read it when I first got it. Yet, I didn't remember it. Even though I'm getting close to the end, I couldn't tell you how it's going to end, even though I'm now sure I read it all those years ago.
Despite the great reviews, it didn't make an impact on me. But it is now. As I'm reading, I'm thinking, this is a good book. When I finish, I plan on going back through and making plot and structure notes on it.
The book hasn't changed. Well, actually it has. This is an ARC and I'm noticing mistakes that I'm sure where corrected in the final copy. But the point is that it's not the book that has gotten better or has changed. It's me.
Over the years, I've learned to read not as a reader, but as a writer. And I've learned to appreciate good writing.
And The Poet is an example of good writing.
1 day ago