imagine reading a book of all the lies you’ve told
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IDK what kind of lives you all are leading, but this sounds like the boringest shit. “Yes I sent that email.” “Yeah, I like your outfit.” “I was sick.” “My mom said no” “No I wasn’t crying.” “Yes I read the Terms of Service”
what about a book of all the lies people have told you
Oh how the tables have tabled
Tables have tabled
imagine reading a book of all the lies you’ve told
IDK what kind of lives you all are leading, but this sounds like the boringest shit. “Yes I sent that email.” “Yeah, I like your outfit.” “I was sick.” “My mom said no” “No I wasn’t crying.” “Yes I read the Terms of Service”
what about a book of all the lies people have told you
Oh how the tables have tabled
Tables have tabled
I firmly believe that there’s a “right” time to read a certain book. It’s okay if you’re interested in a book and it sits on your shelf for years. Maybe it didn’t call out to you when you wanted something to read because it was waiting for the right time to mean the most to you. Not saying this is always the case, but this has happened enough to recognize the magic.
me: able to read a book in a day
also me: unable to read 10 pages for a college class
Rick Riordan: *makes a character gay*
Some fans: oh god this is trash, it ruined the entire series.
Rick riordan: oh I’m sorry let me fix that.
*creates a new series with a bisexual main character featuring a gay couple*Some fans: Are you kidding me!? I’m not even going to read this series, Im going to read this other one. The first book seems harmless.
Rick Riordan: *Writes second book and reveals main character is pansexual as well as writes in a nonbinary character.*
Some fans: … ಠ_ಠ
Rick Riordan: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
(via cas-afras)
Concept: I finish school. The job I work isn’t my dream job but I enjoy doing it greatly still. It pays enough to cover everything I might need. My bills are never overdue. Money is not a thought in my head. I have a place to live. So do my dogs. It is nice and warm, I have some plants, my bookshelves are full, my sheets are always clean. There is time to read at the end of a day. I read a lot. Thinking is a good thing. I meet up with friends regularly, old and new. They love me. We make memories. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I travel a few times a year, always different places. The places I see steal my breath away. The people I meet teach me of life. They are good. There is no war. The sea calls to me and pay visit. I am independent. I am content.
we are such a sad generation. the dream is a modest and decent life.
It’s like this…
You’re fourteen and you’re reading Larry Niven’s “The Protector” because it’s your father’s favorite book and you like your father and you think he has good taste and the creature on the cover of the book looks interesting and you want to know what it’s about. And in it the female character does something better than the male character - because she’s been doing it her whole life and he’s only just learned - and he gets mad that she’s better at it than him. And you don’t understand why he would be mad about that, because, logically, she’d be better at it than him. She’s done it more. And he’s got a picture of a woman painted on the inside of his spacesuit, like a pinup girl, and it bothers you.
But you’re fourteen and you don’t know how to put this into words.
And then you’re fifteen and you’re reading “Orphans of the Sky” because it’s by a famous sci-fi author and it’s about a lost generation ship and how cool is that?!? but the women on the ship aren’t given a name until they’re married and you spend more time wondering what people call those women up until their marriage than you do focusing on the rest of the story. Even though this tidbit of information has nothing to do with the plot line of the story and is only brought up once in passing.
But it’s a random thing to get worked up about in an otherwise all right book.
Then you’re sixteen and you read “Dune” because your brother gave it to you for Christmas and it’s one of those books you have to read to earn your geek card. You spend an entire afternoon arguing over who is the main character - Paul or Jessica. And the more you contend Jessica, the more he says Paul, and you can’t make him see how the real hero is her. And you love Chani cause she’s tough and good with a knife, but at the end of the day, her killing Paul’s challengers is just a way to degrade them because those weenies lost to a girl.
Then you’re seventeen and you don’t want to read “Stranger in a Strange Land” after the first seventy pages because something about it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. All of this talk of water-brothers. You can’t even pin it down.
And then you’re eighteen and you’ve given up on classic sci-fi, but that doesn’t stop your brother or your father from trying to get you to read more.
Even when you bring them the books and bring them the passages and show them how the authors didn’t treat women like people.
Your brother says, “Well, that was because of the time it was written in.”
You get all worked up because these men couldn’t imagine a world in which women were equal, in which women were empowered and intelligent and literate and capable.
You tell him - this, this is science fiction. This is all about imagining the world that could be and they couldn’t stand back long enough and dare to imagine how, not only technology would grow in time, but society would grow.
But he blows you off because he can’t understand how it feels to be fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen and desperately wanting to like the books your father likes, because your father has good taste, and being unable to, because most of those books tell you that you’re not a full person in ways that are too subtle to put into words. It’s all cognitive dissonance: a little like a song played a bit out of tempo - enough that you recognize it’s off, but not enough to pin down what exactly is wrong.
And then one day you’re twenty-two and studying sociology and some kind teacher finally gives you the words to explain all those little feelings that built and penned around inside of you for years.
It’s like the world clicking into place.
And that’s something your brother never had to struggle with.
This is an excellent post to keep in mind when you see another recent post criticizing the current trend of dystopian sci-fi and going on about how sci-fi used to be about hope and wonder.
No. It used to be about men. And now it’s not.
do u ever just think about the fact that molly weasley saw HARRY POTTER, the boy who defeated voldemort, and went “i’m gonna knit this kid a christmas sweater”
“I always wanted a non ginger one”
what i love thinking about is
in the book ron says he told his mum that harry wasn’t expecting any christmas presents and that’s why she sent him them
and knowing ron can be a bit scatty/oblivious he probably didn’t mention it til like two days before christmas
so i just like to think of molly sitting up all night knitting harry his sweater and baking him homemade fudge or whatever because she’d be damned if she’d let harry go present-less at christmas
when i was in 5th grade we were reading books to preschoolers and we were reading the book about gay penguins and we asked if anyone knew anyone that was gay and one girl raised her hand saying that she had two moms and then from the back of the classroom a boy started crying and when we asked why he said it wasn’t fair because he only had one mom and she got two and he wanted two moms also
One more bit of adulting advice
Don’t hate-read. You know what I’m talking about. Are there blogs or people who automatically make you clench your jaw and roll your eyes? Or always trigger a reaction of “Oh dear angels and spirits, not them/this AGAIN?” Stop reading their stuff. Don’t seek it out, no matter how much ranty entertainment you feel it may be.
Hate-reading is a drain of your time and energy.
(Note: I am posting this as a REMINDER TO MYSELF, because I fall into that trap, too.)