This is a little unfortunate.

Posted: November 24, 2010 in proselytizaytion
Tags: , , ,

I told myself, after several years harboring the nasty habit of picking up countless books with a complete inability to finish them, that I would correct the trend now by force.

I’ll force myself to finish what I start to read.

The assertion wasn’t even this simple. If it had been, maybe this wouldn’t have ended so detrimentally to my psyche. I not only burdened myself with these rationales to respect the authors by reading until they chose an ending rather than truncating their thoughts where I felt most fitting, I also took on the additional task of revisiting those authors’ works that I’d already mutilated out of some subconscious necessity.


I just finished reading James Baldwin’s, Nobody Knows My Name, and whatever reverence I previously held for the author (as this is not the only Baldwin work currently–and nowhere near previously–I have had in my possession) dwindled as the page numbers passed.

How many more authorial “friends” will I kill in my own head by adhering to this new conviction to finish where the author intends?

Perhaps, I should go back to reading unfinished works that were never intended to be published at all.


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