I’ve decided to try to read more. More is pretty easy since that means going from 0 books a year to, well, more than that. But, being the ridiculous person I am, I decided I should read 36 books by the time I turn 37. That gives me a year and one month to make that happen.
I don’t like fiction. You might be surprised by that fact since when I write anything I tend to write descriptively, as if inspired by the floweriest of fiction writers. But, I guess, deep down, I’m not interested in made up stories or people. What I am interested in is how fiction can be used as a tool to explain what makes people tick. Most fiction, at least literary fiction, seems to do this somewhat — but most of it also doesn’t get philosophical enough for me. That’s why I liked Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being (as much as I can like made up stories about made up people) and also why I have failed to get into most fiction books that I’ve picked up.
Continue reading “I Hate Fiction. True or False?”
life with interest 