Saturday, August 24, 2013

Peanut Butter and Books

Two of my favorite things are peanut butter and books. There are no words to sufficiently express my sentiments of the former, though, so I'll move on to the latter. I find great joy and solace in a good book. In other words, reading is a large part of who I am. So I guess that would mean it's worth a mention.

Fantasy will always be my all-time favorite, go-to genre. This love of fantasy began when I was a small child. And I'll thank my dad for that. In fact, one of my earliest memories is of my dad reading The Hobbit to me as a bedtime story. And then there's the fact that I grew up with a map of Middle-earth hanging on the wall in my playroom. Doesn't get much cooler than that. When I grew older I read The Hobbit on my own, and then I of course moved on to the epic tale that is The Lord of the Rings. Sure, sometimes Tolkien's works can seem rather bogged down with lengthy descriptions that are sometimes best described as tedious, but I've come to realize that Tolkien's inclination for heavy detail is one reason why he was such a literary genius. Tolkien built a world on an epically grand scale, fleshing it out with nitty-gritty detail so that the reader could enjoy this world to its fullest. Yes, that means that the reader sometimes has to trudge through paragraphs or even pages describing various landscapes (right down to the pattern of that there leaf's veins) in order to find his or her way back to the story at hand. But, in the end, it really is worth it.

Although he is more or less the ultimate fantasy mastermind in my book (pun not intended, I guess), Tolkien is not the only author of fantasy that I enjoy. I have become a great fan of Jack Vance's works, especially his Lyonesse trilogy. L. Sprague de Camp is another author near the top of my list, my personal favorite work of his being The Compleat Enchanter: The Magical Misadventures of Harold Shea. There's also Karl Edward Wagner, who gave life to the anti-hero known as Kane. See a pattern? I do. All of the aforementioned authors are, sadly, deceased (Vance only recently so). I in earnest have no intention of sounding heartless by saying this, but it is tough being a fan of of the non-living, because there is no longer anything new to look forward to from them. But, I still hold some hope, since a handful of my favorite authors are actually still with us. Neil Gaiman, to name one. Neverwhere was a profoundly fun read, and I am currently waiting to get my hands on a copy of Gaiman's new novella The Ocean at the End of the Lane so that I can properly devour it. And I can't forget to mention Patricia A. McKillip, with her multitudinous fairytale-esque works of fantasy.

More recently, though, I have discovered a new, fun, exciting fantasy series to read. And that is the Monster Hunter series by Larry Correia. In short, these books are action-packed horror movies moonlighting as urban fantasy novels. There's never a dull moment in this series, what with the entertaining characters and well-played humor, all topped off with massive expenditures of ammunition and explosive (literally) action. And they're chock-full of fantasy creatures and monsters galore. I mean, there are even orcs. And trailer trash elves. Fun, fun. There is one problem, though. There are currently four books released in this series, with more planned for the future. And therein lies the problem. It has been a long time since I've had to eagerly await the next installation in a series, and I'd forgotten what that felt like. It's unnerving. So please, Larry Correia, hurry. Pretty please. Although, to tide me over I will soon be starting another urban fantasy series by Correia, his Grimnoir Chronicles.

Besides fantasy I am also a fan of the horror and thriller genres. Needless to say, in the world of horror and thrill it simply does not get much better than the great master H.P. Lovecraft. He wrote countless unsurpassable tales of profound fright, and while I have thus far found all of them satisfactorily terrifying, I am quite partial to his quaint little story called "The Hound". In addition to Lovecraft there is Edgar Allan Poe. I have never been a keen fan of poetry, yet I have a deep fondness for that of Poe. How can you go wrong with "The Raven"? In terms of modern tales of horror and thrill, Dean Koontz is one of my main go-to authors. I won't lie, Koontz has written some books of which I am not so fond, but he has also written a number of books that are high on my list of favorites. The first work I ever read by him was Watchers, and it is also my favorite of his. It's a well-told story with plenty of chilling excitement and intriguing concepts. Furthermore, a certain canine character named Einstein caters perfectly to my animal lover's heart.

I even enjoy a handful of the so-called classics. As much as I love to read, I honestly never much appreciated being force-fed such books in school, especially since, in truth, I found a good portion of them downright torturous to read (The Scarlet Letter really isn't that long of a book, so why did it feel like I was trudging my way through an endless tome of bloodcurdling misery?). But, I can't deny that there were at least a handful of these so-called classics that I actually liked reading. To Kill a Mockingbird is a real gem of story, one of the truest classics, at least the way I see it. I also rather enjoyed Frankenstein. And I don't know how many fellows I have with this one, but I actually had a lot of fun with Gulliver's Travels.

Me oh my. On this topic of books, I could go on and on and on. But I won't. After all, if I'm not careful, this post will get out of hand and acquire a mind of its own. Anyway, it's feeding time. Peanut butter it is.

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