My story ‘The
Lonely Drifters’, written in my teenage hood by a careless, and yet developing
individual at the time, by me, is a non-typical book. Why do I say it that way,
it’s not because I feel that all books are typical (however one could interpret
that), and mine is not, so – boom! – it’s special; no, I say it that way
because my book is a short-read, it doesn’t have too many pages, and it is the
most standard example of what is a story. It is explicitly and simply a story.
In essence, books are mostly longer, and they are not merely stories. They are
someone’s life, a lesson or a movie. My book, although it has all those common
traits to a book, somehow makes me feel about it among all the other literature
as if it’s a stegosaurus in the safari (if anything, that’s not the most
impressive dinosaur, he eats herbs…).
However,
after reading my published book, to my surprise, it revealed to me that my
perception of books is obscure. A book is not A, B and C, it must have this, it
shouldn’t have that. Even the content of the book we cannot gauge as how much
talent it has, uniqueness, novelty, intelligence, etc. A book is like a
painting: each reader, as each viewer, sees in it his own. His own to like, his
own to dislike.
The topic that
I am pinning down in this blog, is reads that leave us a pleasant after-taste.
I must add that my encounter with this term was as related to cinema, and most
recently I have learnt that it’s used in wine degustation, although if the
official term’s in French, then that’s not how it sounds… Anyway, after
rereading my story with a fear what if I won’t like my work, in the case of
which the devil on one shoulder would say to me: ‘… just don’t tell anyone
about this’, and the angel on the other, boosting my spirits would say: ‘It’s
ok, you are still a good person…’ (funny, how for the first time they both seem
to have the same opinion…), anyway – I liked my book! And the proof to myself
that I liked it was the first impression that came to me after reading the last
sentence. It was positive. It was this after-taste… And nothing explains better
what an after-taste of a book is, than the comments of readers. In the case of
my story, some readers told me this taste was the joy to live, the expectation
of love.
And what
pleasant after-tastes from reads experienced you?
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