Sometimes I'm awake at 3am. Here's what happened last night and in a fog I resolved to do a little something differently.
Last night, this brilliant woman I know posed the question on her
Facebook status "Are you an Austen girl or a Bronte girl?"
Almost immediately there were folks from across the globe chiming in
with very definite votes for one or the other. Always loving to be
surrounded by people with strong opinions, I was desperate to join in.
But I couldn't. I was feeling more than a bit left out, kindof
small and blush-in-my-cheeks embarrassed to think that the last 3,000
pages or so that I read had me debating the question "Edward or Jacob"...
if you don't know, please, don't ask. I'm ashamed enough already.
consider myself a fairly intelligent person. I've been places, done
stuff, eaten there, read that, met them, seen those...blahblahblah.
There's always room for improvement, right? Right. I guess I shouldn't
be too hard on myself...after all, I did have Breitzman and Schurtz for
HS English, but in many ways, it was downhill from there. I read a
bunch of stuff in college. But I did alot of stuff in college that I
wouldn't do now...like drink Coors Light and kiss New Yorkers.
Blech. Shudder. Not that I'm comparing Chaucer to skunky beer, but you get the point.
So, if you're out there (and I know you're out there, you silent, hiding readers. I know you're there, because my sitemeter tells me so, even if you're too shy to comment here and there. Please do, I know you have things to say.)...where should I start? If you could map out a journey (another trip I'm sure) through your favorite classics, where would you have me start? Free reign. If you tell me to read it...I will.