The Prestige by Christopher Priest

The prestige is the part of a magic trick in which the audience is made to contend with something seemingly impossible and the magician gloats in the stage lights.  Priest novel's features two magicians at the turn of the twentieth century and while they each love to get the reaction from the audience more than this they want to impress and 'one up' each other. 

We see Alfred Borden and Rupert Angier start humbly and then become the top of the game in London.  The feud between them starts rather innocent and comic despite professional ethics as Borden takes exception to the seances conducted by Angier and the money he makes while deceiving the living into thinking that they are communicating with the recently deceased. 

The first part of the book is told by from Borden's point of view by way of a now forgotten book he had written.  Events are primarily comic and move swiftly.  At the conclusion of Borden's book Angier's journal begins and in it we say many of the same events from a different perspective and come to see the nature of their rivalry: the pranks, the sabotage, the attempts to embarrass the other.  We also see some aspects of their rivalry that were a bit darker in their result and much more damaging than we may have come to see in Borden's book.  We also start to see many events involving Borden that was not previously recounted.

As I started wondering 'How many Alfred Borden's are there' Angier starts thinking the same thing as Borden unveils his new illusion which makes him distinctly better and separates him from the pack.  It is as Angier tries to better Borden's trick that the books third primarily character gets involved, and at least in mind, greatly slowed things down.  

Inventor Nikola Tesla is contracted by Angier to build him a electric machine that can duplicate through science that which Angier can't understand how Borden is working his illusion. 

The Prestige is a story of success, rivalry, families and the lives people lead not being what they appear.  Priest does an excellent job of handling the characters voice and making them all sound distinct from each other. It's a very well controlled novel in which the tension between Borden and Angier is always obvious but one in which it's just as easy to tell that there are stronger narrative elements being unravelled than their feud.  It is very absorbing in trying to understand the exact nature of the duplicity that seems to become a theme in itself.  The primarily intrigue is in trying to understand current events that descendants of Borden and Angier go through and putting them in context concerning their ancestors.  It's a long little book one full of many puzzles and magic tricks; the greatest is making you want to start over upon finishing to play the author's game again and see if you got everything right.  

Fire by Kristin Cashore

Sit down.  Buckle up.  Brace yourself.  Full Disclosure: what you are about to read is decidedly chauvinist, sexist, racist (concerning monsters and humans) bigoted and--worst of all--occasionally whiny.  Gale force winds and hurricane strength destructive powers BEHOLD!  I bring the fucking rain; thunder storms and floods; no scattered showers here! 

Sit down. 

Buckle up.

Brace yourself.

I have no idea what this book is about.  I read all of it.  I even took notes, only I'm not sure anything actually happened with enough regularity to be collectively put together and called a plot.  The novel's title character lives in The Dells a continent east of the seven kingdoms setting seen in Graceling, Cashore's exceptional first novel, and--rather inexplicably--there are humans but no gracelings in The Dells.  Additionally there are monsters.  There is a monster counterpart to every part of animal life, even humans.  Monster birds of prey, fish, insects and Fire herself--the last known human monster--are marked by color.  Whereas a regular ass falcon may be brown a monstrous one would be bright yellow or mauve.  Fire is marked by her hair which is blood red; not regular ass red, ginger, auburn or orange, but straight up monstrous fire-engine red with an occasional streak of pink and some other unnatural coloration.

Other than color what makes monsters different is the allure they have to all other life.  They are beautiful to look at and an unwary mind would yearn to view a monstrous lion for its color and attraction completely ignorant to the fact that said lion is about to tear them a new asshole.  Monsters, to varying degrees of mental capacity, have the power of mind control over anyone weaker than them.  Human monsters are extremely dangerous.  This monster power was a bit of a let down for me as it so closely mirror powers that had already been developed in Graceling, furthermore, as the novel progresses we see that one doesn't even have to be a monster to possess this power; almost as if regular ass people can train for it.

The story consist of the three primary powers in The Dells and their attempts to gain complete control of the land.  There are lots of armies, horses with terrible names, (Big, Small, and Horse; and no I'm not making those up) and some nearly insufferable to read politicking for power and assassination attempts that would make the Corleone and Soprano families laugh themselves to death.  Military fiction and intrigue aren't particular strengths; that said they weren't dwelt on too much.  There is gonna be a throw down by these three powers but my saying that is about as tense as matters ever get.  Fire, with her ability to read peoples minds, is wanted for the war effort to influence the enemies choices and extract information that could prove valuable.  That's it for the story.

There is nothing wrong with novels that work with little to no material, the author elevates the level of difficulty in doing so, but it's certainly been done many times before.  (Earlier this year I read and loved John Fowles Daniel Martin, and I'm not sure it had any plot at all.)  If current events are stagnant then the characters need to be super interesting, in conflict with each other and make me care about them as the setting in Fire is as interesting as a railroad tie.  Setting being what it is the characters have a lot of weight to pull: they scored a -1.6 with a bellyflop from the platform diving board of fail.

Fire's casual sexmate--she would never have you believe him a boyfriend--is a whore; I don't say this as a bad thing, Cashore doesn't belittle him in his lifestyle choices either.  His name is Archer.  For the sake of nomenclature alone I was very pleased he didn't own a horse...  Fire doesn't mind that Archer gets around and apparently can knock up anyone with one shot.  She is a ho too but isn't worried about pregnancy because as we saw in Graceling there is a morning after milkshake in this world to take care of that.  Later we see there is also a 'Oh shit I'm into my first trimester pill' as well as the ultimate SHABOOM the 'take-once-by-mouth-in-the-course-of-your-life-infertility-drug.'  Pretty hardcore for secondary world medieval-ish fantasy.  Considering all the contraceptives it's a bit funny the frequency that people get pregnant and are genuinely surprised.  In short there are no consequences of any sort for having sex; at any age (Fire is sixteen or seventeen or somewhere around there); with anyone.  If you've read both Fire and Graceling we can begin to piece together some of what are probably views of the author concerning marriage, relationships, and pregnancy.  All of which make me scratch my head and hope my supposition is wrong. 

While the landscape is potentially set for epic sexual exploits there is no romantic intrigue either: it's easy to tell who will hook up with who and that if Archer stares at a woman too long she'll sneeze and on the next page there will be twins. 

Fire's primary personality trait--her defining characteristic--is her period.  Monsters hold an allure over all other life and predatory monsters love nothing more than monster flesh and like a shark detecting blood in the water Fire's period has mountain lions jumping off cliffs to get a piece of her ass.  Raptors dive bomb her routinely and nearly fall out of the sky to risk a piece of her goodies.  Her period, excuse me, the author never says, period, cycle, or "Aunt Flo in town for a visit" Fire's 'bleeding,' for this is the only way it is ever referenced, somewhat heightens her powers of attraction and allure, which--at least to me--was all kinds a creepy.  Added to which, Fire is cursed with the most frequent and epochally awful 'bleeding' that any woman ever has ever been subjected to since the history of ever.  Considering the poor girl is 'bleeding' on damn near every page we have to assume that her period takes up a week out of every month (possible), or that she bleeds once a week for at least three days (this is Cashore's world not mine).  Whatever the case may be I was having headaches, anticipating anxiety, and stomach cramps watching the character--who by the way, I never did care for--near hemorrhage to death every page.

The real problem with Fire's monster powers isn't them being heightened by her incessant bleeding (I've resisted using so many awful, classless metaphors in this sentence that I'm proud of myself) rather it's the fact that her presence can incite a riot and move one to rape her at any time.  Fire can be out taking a walk and if her hair is uncovered--this is apparently the only way one knows she's a monster--people will approach her with strong feelings.  Some just want to touch her in some undefined state of awe, others want to do her harm, for reasons I was never made to understand, others still were moved toward the most heinous acts of sexual assault.  To be blunt, some wanted to say, 'You're beautiful' and nothing more.  Some wanted to stab her in the neck with a cookie.  Some wanted to rape her in broad day light even if their mother was in the room.  Fire is supposed to have to carry the burden of being able to induce the full range of all human emotions with her at all times, but it was more communicated as 'All men are asshats.'  Not to say that's not true but damn...

"Why did hatred so often make men think of rape?  And there was the flaw in her monster power.  As often as the power of her beauty made one man easy to control, it made another man uncontrollable and mad.

A monster drew out all that was vile, especially a female monster, because of the desire, and the endless perverted channels for the expression of malice.  With all weak men, the sight of her was a drug to their minds.  What man could use hate or love well when he was drugged?'  Page 145

What the hell does any of that mean?  If you replace 'monster' with 'super hot chick' does it read the same?  If so can we get a stronger premise for this book?  Sorry for the repetition but again, What does the above mean?   

The status of women being elevated over men was anything but subtle.  We learn about Fire's father, also a monster.  He had depth.  He had expression.  In short he was interesting and in possession of conflict.  But we quickly see that all life--human or monster--is harder for a women because Fire is a woman and her life is hard, and she is the last of her kind, and she's supermodel hot, and has these colossal bleeding sessions and there was so much hollow, vapid testosterone suppression that I wanted to inject the book with HGH, TRT packets, and whatever Lance Armstrong has been doping with.  Strong male influence is the worst idea ever in this book.  Don't get me started on Fire's guard that helps keep the rapist, would-be lovers, and raptors away.  Women, and girls (some as old as fifteen) hold every position that men do.  In politics, professions, military... testosterone doesn't exist in this world.  A military fantasy world.... (it sure as hell did exist in Graceling)  So we've got girls who want to fight, and protect and die for their country and they're fifteen and been trained to handle a weapon.  The enemy has thirty-five year old men who are known as 'Grown-ass Adults' and have received equal or possibly even less training but it's gonna be a totally fair fist fight because Andre the Giant is a wuss and Miley Cyrus could totally take him.  I know I'm complaining as if someone forced me to read this book but is it too much to ask for a little realism in my escapist fantasy?  The only difference in soldiers is that women can get pregnant--if they are ignorant to the fact there are two million and eighteen of ways out of having a child in this world--and that makes them more sympathetic or something.

While there are plenty of other characters in the book none of them come to center stage.  Not Archer, not Brigan, Fire's other man (told you she was a ho) not Nash, Brigan's brother who is hardcore wanting to hit that monster-ho, not even the memory of Fire's father.  Leck--Mad King Leck from Graceling is in this book--can't get fifteen minutes of shine.  LECK!  The most obscenely awesome bad guy I've ever come across and he never gets a moment.  He feels tacked on and forced; as if the editors said, 'Work Leck into this so we can say the book is related to Graceling in our advertising.'  A quick few pages in the beginning and a blah mention in the end: done.  I'm actually glad Leck was relegated to 'nobody' statues.  I think it's awesome the author didn't want to tell the same story twice.  I'm even more excited to read Bitterblue knowing that the title implies it won't be about a graceling, or a monster, rather just a regular ass person, but no matter the nature of your character they have to have some strong sense of conflict.  Katsa wasn't awesome because she was graced and could whup ass; she was interesting because she had problems, flaws and real conflicts people could identify with; not to mention Po to play off of.  Daniel Martin was a douchebag for more pages than I can remember.  That's why I had to know what happened next!  Fire is... she's... she's about as insubstantial as air stapled to dirt and only twice as interesting; which is to say she don't have much going for her.  She doesn't only need someone else to play off of (ah... let's see... Leck would have been too perfect of a choice...) she needs more to her person to capture and hold reader interest.
 
So we've got this super hot monster who can read minds and influence people's decision and a three way war brewing that seems to be about as intense as that middle school hand-slapping game and the only thing Fire can bring herself to do with her powers is ease the mental suffering, and to some degree the physical suffering, of wounded soldiers.  This is all very useful and noble but in storytelling terms kinda felt like a missed opportunity.  Her version of easing the dyeing's suffering is a lot more boring than Jack Kevorkian's story.

A bunch of people have sex, there's a playground scuffle masquerading as a war, and by the book's end a lot of people are dead and everyone else is crying.  Only it's very difficult to get wrapped up in any of these matters as there was never an infrastructure in place to support my getting attached to story events let alone attachment strong enough to merit anything but tears of frustration.  I was so hopelessly lost in the middle of this book in trying to figure out what was going on and why I was supposed to care that I started hoping that Beetlejuice would pop out of nowhere, start cracking bad jokes, and curb-stomping people into dust because at that specific moment Beetlejuice's wrath was the only thing that would have made sense to me.
 
If I had to guess Graceling, felt like it were written by the author and for the author and it was awesome then she shared it with a bunch of people who told her she was awesome and in writing Fire that awareness of how awesome she is changed the nature of her writing.  While I only wish I could be that fortunate in this case the different state of mind did nothing to enhance Fire.  Fire was a hot mess: a wet, bleeding morass; an uncomfortable quagmire of what's going on here and why is it happening to me.  In reading the book I felt a conscious effort on the author's part perhaps not to impress but to come across as more sophisticated or somehow more polished since her first novel.  The best example of inflicting pain while trying to impress came early in the novel and set the tone for everything to come after.  "She stretched onto her toes to kiss his cheek, but he intercepted her and began to kiss her mouth, gently.  She let him, for just a moment.  Then she extricated herself and left the room."  Page 60  I winced at 'intercepted' and closed the book at 'extricated.'  Pull away; break away; stop kissing the guy.  Anything, but please don't extricate yourself from a kiss.

Cashore is a bit of hottie and I can admit after reading Graceling and liking it as much as I did that I'm more than a bit in love with her.  Don't let the proceeding alter how you perceive my feelings for Graceling: it's just that good.  With my biases feelings in mind apply ardent weight to my thoughts on Fire: Pass on this one.  Sorry for being so long winded but I couldn't just say I was angry when reading this book because 'horse' was used as a name for a horse and the word extricate almost brought about a seizure.  As far as my therapy goes, I feel better in getting all this out of my system.  Wait for it...

'Horse.'

'Extricate.'

All better. 

Kindling the Fire

Don't worry; I haven't given up books for an e-reader.  I really wanted to post a book commentary this weekend, but I needed to better organize my thoughts before doing so.    Graceling by Kristin Cashore is phenomenal.  Fire, by the same author and set in the same world, is awful.

The overwhelming amount of what I initially wrote concerning this book was bad and it's not that I have an aversion to posting something negative only I feel such comments need to be put into perspective and supported to be valid in any way.  So since I'm not trying to pass this informal post off as commentary I can be as horrible as the book, right?  

Hmmm… Where to start?

Fire is about a woman's period.  Or more specifically a woman's bleeding.  (The author would have us believe that to say 'period' or a host of other phrases would somehow allow the reader to forget the whole 'bleeding' part.  Fire, the character bleeds a lot.  It's not a subtle bit of imagery.)    

I could stop here.  No, seriously; there really isn't much more to the story.  

Fire is also about how women are different from men, because they have a period and their period makes them different and this fundamental difference between men and women is women having a period.  Or 'bleeding' as Cashore is fond of saying.  'Bleeding'  That wasn't redundant was it?  If so, imagine the hell I was in reading 460 plus pages… 

Not only do women have periods and bleed which is awful because you see periods and bleeding are unique to women but this period of bleeding time makes their life more difficult and overall more difficult than a mans: much harder and unaccommodating.  In reading Fire we see that women's lives are far more strenuous and limited than men's because they have a period and bleed or so the redundancy department of departmental redundancy has redundantly informed me.  However, women can overcome this difficulty and not have their lives' governed by their period and bleeding and even though their lives are significantly harder than a man's their rewards can be greater than a man's, perhaps due to their biological bleeding plight.  

The novel kinda made me feel like there was some mysterious silver lining to my being a hardcore dyslectic.  Needless to say; FAIL! 

I wish I could say all that was snark and sarcasm but really, it's not.  I knew at the outset of trying to pre-vent all of my forthcoming commentary venom that I would do so uselessly.  I won't have nice things to say about this book no matter how much I try to be professional (which I'm not) or decent (of which I show occasional sparks) toward the novel.  

I'm not sure if Fire is the worst thing I've read this year--I'm still debating who to select for the meager end of the year dubious honor--but if I could go back an unread any one book I've read, not only this year but in my life, it would be this one.  

I almost put this book down; as in every-other-god-damned-page, I almost put this book down.  I did pick up an excellent short story collection to help get me through.  (Every ten pages read meant I could read a new short story i.e. something good.  More to come on that collection later.)  Taking notes on Fire was easy, so much material to work with, getting through it was a Pyrrhic victory to say the least.  Why did I finish the book?  Why did I read it?  

Because...  Because I'm an idiot and I loved her first book so much.    

Kristin Cashore is amazing.  Read Graceling.  Now.  Go!  

Avoid having your eyes bleed until they explode by reading Fire I mean Fire.  More to follow soon.  

BADASS The Birth of a Legend by Ben Thompson

This is without doubt the most awesome book I'll read this year.  From Kali to Skeletor, Thompson explores what makes icons of bassitude in our culture.  His research will astound you (the works cited pages are jaw dropping), the academic presentation will convince you, and the humor and over-the-top exploits of all those included will keep you laughing and referring back to specific passages long after you've finished reading.  

The book is divided into four sections: Gods, Goddesses and other Celestial Kickass Beings, Heroes Heroines and other Over the Top do Gooders, Villains, Sorcerers, Antiheroes, and Merciless Bastards, and Monsters, Fiends, Hellspawn and Worse.  Personalities mentioned span the range of mythological beings, fictional characters, Biblical titans, and silver screen showstoppers.  The most immediately catching issue is the inclusion of some characters in certain categories.  Gilgamesh is presented as a bad guy--and perhaps rightly so--while Dirty Harry and Diomedes, and all those they killed in the stories that fashioned their awesomeness are 'heroes.'  The best and most interesting of grey area came in the first section involving deities where all were presented as neutral in terms of morals.  

I've gained new respect for Zeus and Thor, the former of whom I always thought to be boring while the latter had never previously impressed me.  While it's nice to be given reason to appreciate old hats, better still was the discovery of so many unknown-to-me badasses.  Rama, Oya, Bradamant de Clairmont and others all left their mark.  Additionally Thompson provides a ridiculous amount of information of similar beings of different cultures, regional variations on popular myths, background and context that is nothing short of staggering.  

Not everyone lives up to the title (and it is with no small measure of fear that I call them out).  You're only as badass as the opponent you take out and so Mr. T, King Minos, Professor Moriarty, Finn McCool, and Captain Kirk came up a bit short, not because they weren't awesome but because they were being held in the same light as Beowulf, Darth Vader and Sir Mordred.  Other's like Surt have unrealized potential because we have to wait until Ragnarok to see them in their full glory, by which time we'll all be dead…  I'll send a message through the proper channels to the author (not my blog) but we need a definitive measure: that's right, a NCAA basketball, single elimination Clash of the Tightest to determine who is the baddest badass of all time.    

I couldn't read it straight through; it's not that kind of book.  A chapter here and there, a lot of laughs in between and some truly inspiring exploits and you'll be tempted to craft the legend of your own personal badass on paper.  I plan to read the other book in this series.  I hope Thompson writes many more with more of the non-traditional badasses like the previously mentioned Moriarty.  Even if you're not a fan of humor sites such as cracked I can't imagine someone not liking BADASS.  Oh, and as for the tournament I suggested, all smart money bets point toward Samson who not only "pulled it (a lion) apart with his bare hands like it was a piece of paper made out of beef" but also managed to kill a hundred men with a donkey's jaw bone and The Archangel Michael, aka "The Chief Justice of Wrecking Evildoers' Faces" who wasn't content to "curbstomp the the Prince of Darkness into the ground with a sandaled foot" but proceeded to power-bomb the arch-nemesis of the three abrahamic religions spine-first into a fire hydrant.  Internet humor, pop culture awareness, and video games knowledge will increase your enjoyment, but all you really need to do is read the words on the page to be blown away by BADASS The Birth of a Legend.  

Breakable You by Brian Morton

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The Year's First Defeat

I did not finish Slaughter House Five by Kurt Vonnegut.

I read fifty pages as I customarily do with a new book to try to get a feel for things; nothing.  I read another fifty pages due to reputation and all the praise I've heard.  It wasn't for me.  Furthermore this isn't one I plan on re-visiting.  I'll be trading it in tomorrow morning.

It's easy to read and I could have powered through, but there was nothing of remote interest happening for me.  That book nearly killed me, "So it goes."

It had to happen sometime.  

Blue and Gold by K. J. Parker

I was so ready to not like this book.  To say that the last few pages 'redeemed' the story would be a bit too strong, but it did take the last few pages to put things into focus.  As with Purple and Black, another short novel by Parker, to discuss the plot would give away the aforementioned redeeming surprised.  I won't indulge any spoilers, but the material that moonlights as 'plot' was my primary contention.

Saloninus is the narrator and certainly a unique enough character to merit first person narration.  He is one of the more self-serving and quasi larger-than-life characters you'll encounter in any book.  He is completely devoid of the scruples of conscience, and while not quite a criminal mastermind he is somewhat of an expert crook among many other things (alchemist, sculptor, poet, academic, etc et al).  He is also a liar and extremely entertaining to follow around for one-hundred pages.

Saloninus is in the employ of a prince who gives him unlimited funding in the pursuit of turning base metal into gold.  We never see this process happen as Saloninus preaches it's impossibility.  We do see Saloninus murder, lie, deceive, steal and be a general not too nice person.  

Literary fiction often comes under fire for being beautiful writing, engaging and entertaining with no plot; such was my initial complaint with Blue and Gold.  We see the various degrees of Saloninus' character in his past, and present but there was never a reason given, or even one to discern, for his actions.  He had a great job with amazing pay and benefits, a pretty wife he didn't like, but it wasn't as if he snapped and went crazy, rather it is presented that his behavior is the only way he could possibly act given his nature.  Happily, (not 'luckily' Parker seems too good a writer and in too much control of plot events to say 'luckily') the shared events of Saloninus' life are too much fun to read about and ultimately the novel too short for for me to call it flawed.  We are given reasoning and grounding for Saloninus being Saloninus at the end in a fun surprise that Parker seems fond of and expert in conceiving.

The novel is set in an antiquity of Parker's creation but the language used, particularly Saloninus' voice is contemporary.  It was a bit jarring at first but I was able to get over today's profanity and vernacular quickly.  

Subterranean Press continues to confuse me as they contrast the quality of their books with a lack of copyediting or even general proof reading before printing.  It's more than a handful of errors and in a book this short they are all highly visible.  Unfortunately, it's a befuddling, consistent issue I've had with Subterranean Press.

Blue and Gold is quick, dirty, and a whole lot of fun.  Find a copy.  Buy it.  Whenever there is nothing worth watching on TV (and when is there?) or it's raining outside, or you're bored and need to kill an hour; read and enjoy.    

New Year's Reading Rut

I don't feel pressured to read.  I do it because I enjoy reading.  But for the past week or so it's been a chore.  I completely blame Charlotte Brontë.  Jane Eyre almost killed me.  I told myself I'd finish it before 2011 got here... that didn't happen.  I've completed five other books in the time it took me to knock this 19th century British behemoth out.  It's over and done; I've turn the last page.  The final word was, "Amen" and in response all I could say was, "Hallelujah!"


I liked it better than Wuthering Heights but thats not say much.  I'm glad I read the book.  If nothing else, it proved that 19th century British lit ain't for me.  Dickens, Eliot, pick a Brontë, I'll throw Conrad into the pot, and damn near anyone else other than Jane Austen you can think of I'll pass and say their work is not for me.  I can admit that there is quality there, I'd just rather contemplate the sharp end of a Bowie knife on a tender spot on my body than seek said quality out.  


It's odd as I love Russian 19th century writers so much: Turgenev, Tolstoy, Checkov, Dostoevsky, Lermontov, and probably a host of others I don't know and can't pronounce.  German writers from the same time, Goethe, Schiller, Heine also make me very happy.  I've even come across some French writing for the time that I've thoroughly enjoyed though I'm not well versed enough to even drop names.  I'm sure some bright, literature person could tell me what that means about me and my reading preferences but I don't know such people...    


So Jane Eyre is over and done with, problem solved right?  All-kinds-of-wrong.  I'm reading Middlesex, which is possibly the most compelling thing I've ever come across--and it just won't end.  It never ends... and I've no clue where it's going.  It's long to def: i.e. really long.  I like it better--much better--than The Virgin Suicides, but at least that one was terminal.  Middlesex feels indefinite.  (Commentary forthcoming)  Jeffery Eugenides is quickly joining the ranks of the previously mentioned British authors from yesteryear.      


I'm also reading The Mammoth Book of Merlin figuring super awesome short stories will help pick up my reading pace.  Normally this is true, but this collection has very few redeeming qualities to speak of so far; I've about a hundred pages to go.  It's not bad; all the writing is very competent.  It is however, the most uninteresting compilation I've ever come across.  Considering the subject matter I'm amazed at the blandness of the stories included.  It makes me believe in the power of some of those 'name brand' editors I see on regular fiction anthologies and collections.  I'm not even sure that Michael Swanwick, with the last story in the book can save this mammoth book of trite banalities.   


I want to read something fabulous at this very moment and at the same time, my disenfranchisement with reading makes me not want to open a different book, but rather turn to the unthinkable: renew my World of Warcraft account after four long years of dormancy.  


My favorite hobby somehow got tedious. 


Help.