i just finished a steinbeck book.
and i feel liberated.
not because i liked the book.
but because i didn't like it.
i've tried to like steinbeck before.
i've come across two really special
men in my life who are steinbeck fans.
and wanting to relate and bond a bit more
with them, i have read some of his works.
i just finished another. i picked it up
for that very reason. someone dear to me
suggested him to me.
man. i'm just so not into him.
and i'm thinking there's a good possibility
he's a guy's writer.
both guys who have suggested him to me
love his characters. i just can't get into
obviously, he's a great writer.
obviously he has tons to offer people.
obviously gazillions of people appreciate him.
and i'm not one of 'em.
and i'm grinnin' from ear to ear.
see, in my family there was some weird snobbery
i can't even describe.
my dad never read fiction. he would try a classic
here and there, but he just couldn't do it.
and my mom would only read the 'best' of literature.
she's prolly a steinbeck fan.
i always felt like if i didn't like the good stuff,
i was a clod.
and if you could get any sense of the depth of
that stuff runnin' thru my background, it would make
sense why i have never honestly called myself a
it's some weird icky undercurrent stuff that's
run thru me forever.
and i think that's why i feel liberated today.
i see that it's totally okay not to like steinbeck.
say i'm a pea brain.
of course it's okay , girl.
but i didn't know that all growin' up.
i always thought i was 'less than' with this kinda
ya know what?
maybe steinbeck just doesn't talk to my heart.
and maybe i wouldn't even like steinbeck in person.
maybe he was an ol' bore.
or maybe he was a really cool guy who just relates
different to things.
maybe i'd love him in person.
it doesn't matter.
what matters is......i'm okay. and i can like or
dislike whatever feels right.
how come i didn't know that til recently????