Essays and Eggplants
Snuff (Chuck Palahniuk, Doubleday) was slightly underwhelming. I'll read it again to be sure, but I wasn't in love with it. If you're a fan, obviously you're going to go out, pick it up and read it, but if you've never read Palahniuk I'd suggest you start with Invisible Monsters or Survivor or Choke. I've started Alone In The Kitchen With An Eggplant, and so far I'm enjoying it immensely. It is everything I was expecting. I like collections of short stories, but I love collections of essays. I couldn't even begin to explain why, especially because I don't particularly care to read non-fiction. Perhaps I just like it in smaller doses. Last night I was talking to Josh, and I mentioned how much I used to love writing. Ten years of engineering school and nothing but technical writing has beat that particular talent out of me, but I certainly miss it. I enjoyed essay writing in particular. What I liked about it was mixing the pragmatic and factual with the creative and subjective. Planning and structuring and building a deliberate collection of words in the most effective manner, designed to convey a particular thought or feeling or opinion. I never could write fiction, even then; my brain is not inventive, but simply narrative. My English teacher in high school, the way his face fell when I told him I'd be attending engineering school instead of endeavoring in more creative pursuits, was maybe one of the best compliments I've ever gotten. Since hearing this, Josh has been really encouraging me to give writing a second chance. Frankly, he's pretty encouraging about everything, all the time, but this topic has really seemed to spark his interest. I'm thinking about it, but I certainly draw the line at sharing anything I write here on the blog (his suggestion), I don't think I could ever do that. I'm an engineer, not a writer after all.
Labels: Miscellaneous



