It's not me; it's you: on breaking up with a book
We need to talk. There's been some distance between us for some time now. I've tried many times to bridge that gap, but it just seems insurmountable. You and I, we come from different worlds - I'm from Venus; you're from Barnes and Noble. I know all my friends love you, but we just want different things right now. I want to be entertained; you want to annoy me. In the past it might be trite cliches, forced dialog, or unbelievable scenarios, but in this case I just can't put my finger on it.
I know what you'll say: this is a pattern of mine. First there was The Foundation Trilogy. I know the only reason I balked at that relationship was because it was my dad's favorite and at the time I just wanted a rebel - a book dressed in black leather, riding a Harley. Foundation was like all those other books in high school, just another book someone else chose for me, and I wanted to make my own choices. You're going to point out that I hated The Hobbit the first time I read it and look at us now. I eventually found a place in my heart for one of my dad's favorites, Thomas Sowell's Basic Economics. You can argue that if I found a place in my heart for them, there should be room for you, but trust me, my heart is all booked up.
It's not that I think you're vulgar and tasteless like American Psycho. You don't offend me so deeply I had to kick you out of the house. Nor are you as boring as Riders of the Purple Sage. I swear I've never heard anyone drone on so much over riders and purple sage. Not a paragraph went by without a mention, so much so that I began counting them. I still think that would make a good drinking game, but you'd be plastered by the end of the first chapter. You're also not schticky like Riddley Walker or even, to some degree, The Book Thief. Some books need a good filter.
But like The Book Thief, you've been praised to the skies by people I really admire and respect. The chemistry between us is just off. Maybe someday I'll return to you and see the error of my ways, but for now, Station Eleven, I think we need to just part ways. It'll be better for both of us this way. I know you'll find love elsewhere, but just not on my shelf. It's not me, it's you. It's so totally you.
I know what you'll say: this is a pattern of mine. First there was The Foundation Trilogy. I know the only reason I balked at that relationship was because it was my dad's favorite and at the time I just wanted a rebel - a book dressed in black leather, riding a Harley. Foundation was like all those other books in high school, just another book someone else chose for me, and I wanted to make my own choices. You're going to point out that I hated The Hobbit the first time I read it and look at us now. I eventually found a place in my heart for one of my dad's favorites, Thomas Sowell's Basic Economics. You can argue that if I found a place in my heart for them, there should be room for you, but trust me, my heart is all booked up.
It's not that I think you're vulgar and tasteless like American Psycho. You don't offend me so deeply I had to kick you out of the house. Nor are you as boring as Riders of the Purple Sage. I swear I've never heard anyone drone on so much over riders and purple sage. Not a paragraph went by without a mention, so much so that I began counting them. I still think that would make a good drinking game, but you'd be plastered by the end of the first chapter. You're also not schticky like Riddley Walker or even, to some degree, The Book Thief. Some books need a good filter.
But like The Book Thief, you've been praised to the skies by people I really admire and respect. The chemistry between us is just off. Maybe someday I'll return to you and see the error of my ways, but for now, Station Eleven, I think we need to just part ways. It'll be better for both of us this way. I know you'll find love elsewhere, but just not on my shelf. It's not me, it's you. It's so totally you.
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