Reading

[outsdr]

 Finished "Wicked" Tuesday night. What a waste of time. I've read better. The book even included a chapter of "Discussion topics" at the end, which I think is arrogant and ballsy for such a pretentious, unfulfilling pile of crap. Eh, the book is a best-seller, so what do I know?

Last night, I started reading "Indistinguishable from Magic," which promises to be a treat. 

Comments

[dreamer-easy.livejournal.com]

lol Book Club aka why sell one copy when you can sell a dozen?

[outsdr.livejournal.com]

I hadn't even thought about that. But then, I'm the bane of a book discussion group.

And poetry discussions at retirement homes. Well, for some people ...

See, I went to one with a friend of mine, fellow writer Don McIver. The woman running it must have been a school teacher, or dreamed of being, because she played the poems from a CD (Not a bad idea, considering the high age of many of the attendees) but she also had a bell she would ring, to let people know when it was okay to discuss poems and when it was not okay.

Well, one of the poems she played and "discussed" (which usually was just her telling us what it meant) was a Robert Frost poem, I believe, talking of apple trees and orcahrds and young men harvesting apples and how he missed the apples, so many apples, on and on and on ...

It was "discussed" how this poem was about an old man missing his youth and being able to eat apples, and how good apples were, the beautiful, luscious apples, on and on and on ... the bell rings ...

"It's about sex," I said.

The discussion leader literally clutched her pearls and nearly sucked all the air in the room into her lungs as she prepared for a loud "I never!"

"It's about sex," I quickly said again. "It's obvious. The apples are the young women he desires; the young men pursuing them ... he doesn't miss eating apples, he misses being a Casanova and playing the field. And maybe eating the apples too, I suppose ..." The attendees suddenly became more alive than they had the entire time, hmming to each other and nodding thoughtfully.

The bell was loudly and firmly rang once again, but not before I receive a few stern glares from the Discussion Leader and her small group of Discussion Groupies huddled around her, as well as a greater number of smiles and winks from the other attendees suddenly finding poetry to be a lot more alive than they'd been allowed to believe.

We never went back.

Too bad. :P

You can ring my beeeeeelllllllll ring my bell my bell ding dong ding

[dreamer-easy.livejournal.com]

Oh fuck off, that is HILARIOUS! XD XD XD