...not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent this night!" - Gerard Manley Hopkins
The above is an indication that not always is being an English Major unbearable. Me and Cam have been bitching, griping, arguing, conversing, and jaw-slapping about books for the nine or so years we've known each other. Mostly over AIM, or the various message boards we trolled in our teens. So why not write about books in a blog? We thought of this, spur of the moment, and I think history has proven those ideas can turn out pretty good.
We plan to hammer through book after book, and jot down our thoughts, and in doing so create a kind of smorgasbord of creative cross-referencing between what we can draw out of these books and our own (fledgling though they may be). So far King and Straub's The Talisman, Michael Ende's The Neverending Story and then I believe Gene Wolfe's New Sun something-or-other.
To begin - it has been roughly a decade since I read The Talisman, same as Cam. But damned if that book didn't blast my young imagination into shreds. I was carried so far away I don't think I slept for the week or so it took me to burn through it. My secondary interest is to look back on King's old writing and see for myself if there something lacking in his contemporary stuff or if I'm just grown up, because Jacky Lighting Out meant a whole shit-ton more to me than anything in Cell did, or the new Tower crap.
Jack was my fucking hero was I was eleven, man.
Without further ado, Well me and Tom got to the edge of the hilltop, we looked down into the village and we could see three or four lights twinkling...
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