Reading the Lines
Early cave woman wasn't content with her cave man's rendition of
"home" -- dark, blank walls that provided no ambience
whatsoever. So, one day, when he grunted, she grunted back and
soon there were linear drawings adorning their cave. These
sketches were not exactly what she had in mind to brighten up
their lives (animals and spears staring at her as she did her
daily dirt floor tamping down), but they made her cave man
happy. They gave him and his buddies the opportunity, whenever
they got together, to retell of their great hunts and narrow
escapes. Writing and story telling without an alphabet.
Boggles the Mind
How many stories, poems, articles and essays have been written
since then using the alphabets of the world? My mind misfires to
even try and imagine the number. Stories have been published in
small, struggling-for-recognition publications, or sent out but
returned as rejections, never to surface again. Poems have been
written, carefully releasing emotions kept deep within the heart
and soul, but never shown to anyone, as if the words were too
close to that heart and soul to allow them to be completely
released. And rant opinions have been penned, complaining that a
company's product failed to live up the its advertisment when
two of its knobs fell off and the one that did remain wouldn't
turn. And then there are the countless essays and articles,
researched and filed away in a cabinet, never to see the light
of day again. How many pieces have been written throughout the
course of history? It falls into the category of questions like,
"How many tears have been shed or how many smiles have been
formed. There's no way of knowing.
A WORTHWHILE SKILL
Many, many written pieces, however, HAVE been accounted for and
kept track of, much to the delight of readers everywhere.
Reading is a joy and a pleasurable addiction for a great number
of people. I admire these people -- those who can
enthusiastically call themselves "readers", those who can curl
up in a chair or stretch out on a sofa and become so engrossed
in a piece of writing that they don't emerge from their reading
until several chapters later or the short story's ending. I
admire them because I'm not a reader. I've always disliked the
task and never acquired the skill. I do read though...anything
and everything...in bits and pieces...kind of like a TV
channel-surfer clicking from one program to the next. Short
attention span? Sometimes. Speed reader? Hardly. I'm simply not
a reader. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed reading at times.
I have. It just doesn't come naturally to me.
KICKING IT UP A NOTCH
Reading well is a skill. Reading well, comprehending what was
read and being able to dissect it in order to find its strengths
and weaknesses is an art. Reading well and being able to connect
with the essence of a piece and then express that feeling and
connection to its writer is an art. This art comes naturally to
some, but has to be learned by others. I'm in that "others"
grouping.
I've recently learned that a reader is incomplete until they've
at least tried their hand at writing and a writer is incomplete
if they're not reading.
But, I'm not sure yet if I'm up to tackling the "Map of the
World" by Jane Hamilton or the "Ender's Game" by Orson Scott
Card (both books have been on a desk, patiently waiting for my
attention). And I'm not sure if I can return and attempt
finishing "The Idiot" by Fyodor Dostoeyevsky yet. I've begun
reading that book so many times and left it mid-read, that I'm
certain the main character, Myshkin, feels as if he's been
experiencing the same phenomenom as Bill Murray in "Ground Hog
Day". Poor guy! Maybe someday.
In the meantime, though, perhaps those of us who shy away from
reading will continually push the word and page limits until one
day we can retell some of the great stories we've visited. Or
recite a few lines from some of the poems we happen to have
discovered. It's more than likely going to be worth the effort.
Besides, we have to make that cave woman proud!