I am delighted once again to have chanced upon another good book, “We are all completely beside ourselves” by Karen Joy Fowler, which has made me see life from a different perspective, as should all good books. The only tiresome thing about it is its long-winded title, one of the many similar titles with which new books are often for some reason now burdened, perhaps to make them stand out from the crowd, but which, because of their long-windedness, slip from my memory immediately.
Apart from being beautifully written, it is also beautifully
constructed with a startling shift of perspective midway through it which sent
me straight back to the beginning again to see whether I had missed some
pointers which should have alerted me to this surprising development.
I learn about life as I read, and I also learn about life as
I write. My writings, as for example of
this blog, do not merely repeat thoughts I already have, but form stages in the
process of developing these thoughts, which would not therefore see the light
of day without the act of writing them down.
It feels as though I am drawing these thoughts from within me as I
write. Each then becomes a tiny act of
creation, so that often as I read afterwards what I have written I surprise
myself, as though I am reading something new written by somebody else.