sometimes quiet is violent

Maybe the books in our life wait for the right time for us to read them. This thought came to me as I sat on my floor having just finished writing in my diary for the day. I've spent the last three evenings reading a few chapters of The Fellowship of the Ring to help me get to sleep, and the ease at which I read this book has surprised me. I remember taking up the same book six or seven years ago and having to stop reading it before I even got a hundred pages in, because the language was too difficult and too boring for me to be entertained. I'd seen the movies many times by then, so I assumed I wasn't really missing much anyway (I was wrong). Over on Christmas holiday I saw the book on my parents' bookshelf and decided to take it with me, "for the flight" I told myself. I'd been avoiding the book for a while, thinking it was just too difficult for me to read, but as I opened it again a few days ago, just trying to find something I could read before be...

I don't know if you know this, but I read a lot. I read a lot (past tense). Fantasy, young adult, classic. All kinds of literature. And I don't really see how something can be more valuable that the other. People go around speaking of classic literature. J.D. Salinger, Charles Dickens, some other smart white dude. I know that these authors are respected and that their works are considered classics because they are good. They are well written and have gained merits over the years that allow for them to be inserted into the educations of people all around the world. If I'm reading a classic book I feel like holding it out for everyone to see. That I'm smart, educated. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed 1984 by George Orwell. But I didn't have to explain myself to anyone while reading it. But when I'm reading a piece of so called "young adult literature" (mostly aimed at girls of 13-17), I feel the need to constantly explain myself . I found my...