Love affairs... Part I

Books are the best love affairs. I hear about some, I find some at bookshops; sometimes it is the cover that attracts me or the title, the author’s name, while sometimes people suggest, other times I choose it just as a pastime. Most affairs start right from the Preface, just like watching a movie starts right from the moment the certificate is shown.

While reading TFIOS, the climax made my heart weep, and I kept reading to the end of the book, the credits and all, to just stop crying aloud. And at the end I hated John Green so much. Sometimes the plot twists and turns the protagonist, that I take a sneak peek on the climax, just to tell my heart, “look it will change for the better in due course”, or to harden my emotions, “well... that is what is destined to happen, so all the good things that happen towards the end wouldn't last after all” and then wipe my tears.

Though I fall so much in love with the plot, the characters, and most importantly words, that can be chewed and swallowed tasting every bit of it, if the plot keeps dragging towards the end, it irritates me a lot. Well, many good books turn chewy gums when I am 100 pages away from The End.  

Very few books spring surprises, with neat cuts and crispy climax... So, what was I saying, the pendulum that is my mind drifts to and fro from the topic. Yes... love affairs, so, books are the best love affairs, some make me think about them until Alzheimer’s may capture my memory, who knows may be I would still remember Darcy. And some are best forgotten, like Anita Shreve’s The Pilot’s wife, and Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love.

I had written reviews about these two books, just that I don’t remember under what pen name. Alzheimer catching up...  I won’t say that they were poorly written. Well, the beginning few pages of The Pilot’s wife, were good, the words very representative of the feelings of this woman. The style and the plot were all good, but then, how long would I have to continue to be in the pathetic situation. I just couldn’t contain myself in to reading this, the depression was engulfing me. Well, books get into me, the characters get into me. So I just stopped at around 75% of the book.

Regarding Gilbert... I caught a glimpse of the movie, when it was over and credits were shown, wherein I could see the Asian old man, looking like a guru, and Julia Roberts doing yoga, and I added it to my TBR. When I started reading the first few pages, I was bowled over by the fact that Elizabeth Gilbert was a Cancerean too... Voila! And all the emotional turmoil she writes about, I am a little like that too. So, here I have my half-soul, I say myself. But then... it just stops until she visits Italy. The eat part was good, but love part went on to be glum, gloomy and morose.

That was the very moment I abandoned my eagerness to write. Some of the reviewers of my work, ask me, why so much of grief? And then unable to proceed further, I stopped and vowed myself never to be carried away by the sun sign, or Julia Roberts.

Well... Regarding the Part I in the blog title... to be continued...