Independent Reading Reflection

The past nine weeks I began determined to read a collection of books I'd been hoping to get to for a very long time..The majority of which were funny, yet could not be altogether deemed juvenile. Not to say I read Shakespeare for pleasure, but rather I wasn't reading books specifically targeted for teens. This, I came to find, was a most rewarding decision, as teen books tend to pose a threat to me, in that they probably decrease my attention span due to the fact that I so quickly think them dull and cannot grant much of my attention at all to the text. I mean no ill intentions; I am not saying I am too superior for teen books, but a book about more than jocks, nerds and cheerleaders does typically prove so much more enjoyable.

With that said, I must point out that it would have been even more beneficial had I read a couple more nonfiction books, as they are so vital to ap english as I've heard. Alas, I did read one, of a topic I knew would be my very favorite. This book was about slaughterhouses, and seeing as how I am most opposed to the horrendous places, I read it furiously, and I mean that as both quickly and angrily. Yes, it incited a fury in me. And whether it was indulging to be accompanied by such rage, I only have a vague idea; anger is, obviously, an upsetting, harmful emotion. Yet, I enjoyed the book particularly because I felt my anger was shared by the author, and that was such a beautiful justice. I plan on reading a plethora of books dealing with the same subject during this new nine weeks. Most will be Ingrid Newkirk's.

But, I did excessively enjoy the other books I read. I knew at the start they would be euphoric reads, considering most were Christopher Moore's, and he is a genius of a writer, every character and story of his being both the most unimageanable and believable once you have delved into them.


Despite my satisfaction in my reading, or perhaps because of it, I didn't write much at all in my reading log. Once a good story has enveloped me, I cannot emerge enough to recall that I need to be writing about it. That was too difficult, and terribly aggravating. In my annoyance, I was reluctant to halt my stream of engulfed thoughts and attempt to trigger any new ones regarding what I could write, although I must admit it seems awfully lazy of me considering it wouldn't have been that hard to write really. It was mostly because I didn't wish to waste my reading time writing things that really wouldn't be beneficial to me. I say the reading log is unbeneficial in utter honesty and truth. Copying thoughts is not necessarily going to make them any better than thinking deeper about them alone. Time-wasting, unhelpful and annoying was the writing, so I think there is justice in having neglected my log.

But, but but but, the reading was superbly fun, educating, and worthy of my time, and I shall be reading much, much more in my near future.