Bridging the gap
by morgan on Aug.07, 2009, under Karen Miller
People don’t read. Novels are for school. Fantasy isn’t real, so what’s the point? Isn’t it more fun to watch a movie or play video games?
Well, that’s what I’ve heard anyway. I bet that you have, too.
It surprises me how many people don’t dig into good books. I’m not just talking about spec fiction books. Some folks don’t read anything longer than magazine length. A rare few even have a belligerent animosity to reading.
So, what’s the answer? Is it even a problem? Is anyone else troubled by friends or family members that treat reading like an alien activity?
Assuming that it does matter, then how do you turn those movie buffs & video game aficionados into readers? I propose that you bridge the gap with media tie-ins. Get them reading a Buffy graphic novel or a Halo novel, and you’ve set them down the first few steps on the road to libraries and book shops everywhere.
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August 7th, 2009 on 6:00 pm
I agree absolutely that anything to get ‘em reading is a good thing! Some people were put off reading in school because they were forced to read ‘worthy’ texts that bored them rigid. So any kind of story that can rekindle a love of adventure between the pages is to be applauded, not derided. Sure, some folk don’t move past tie-in works because it’s only that world they’re interested in — but even so. A sale is a sale, and tie-in writers have bills to pay too, and just because some people are static readers now doesn’t mean they’ll be static readers forever.
I’m just ranting against literary elitism, basically. Elitism of any stripe is a curse.
August 8th, 2009 on 6:05 pm
http://theamericanapocalypse.blogspot.com/
Go and read
My intention was to pull the Ruger, go around the side of the outbuilding, and kill every motherfracker I saw. Today had not really been working out as planned, and what happened next should not have come as any surprise. I got hit by what I later estimated as 75lbs of muscle and teeth. It knocked me back down on my ass, and then it clamped its teeth down on the outside of my right leg. The hungry sonofabitch was growling and shaking its head without letting go. My immediate problem was I am left handed. I was down on my holster side. The Colt was gone. Shaken loose probably in my first fall. Sometimes life is a bitch but sharp carbon steel can fix a lot of problems. I grabbed the hilt of the bayonet. pulled it from the sheath with my right hand, then passed it to my left. Doggie was sending intense flashes of pain through my nervous system, and his eyes, which I had no problem seeing, were staring at me with evil doggie hate. So I cut off his head. A K98 bayonet is 16 inches long, and mine was made early on in the war so it was quality steel. I kept it sharp too. The hardest part was the spinal column, but that only took an extra couple seconds, and a few more pounds of pressure.
I safed the shotgun and tried standing up. I reversed it, used it as a crutch, and tried again. Then I started walking around the outbuilding. Jeebus, I hurt. I grayed out for a second but stayed on my feet. About 15 yards from me a man was exchanging rounds with someone over by the house from behind the older truck. I blew his head off. There were two bodies lying in front of the barn. One had a pair of mangled legs. I saw Diesel coming towards me at a run. He was moving pretty fast for someone who was running crouched. I kept walking towards the barn. I took a fast look over at the house. Someone was down. It looked like Old Guy. I stopped at the white truck, dropped the shotgun, and used my free arm to brace myself against it.
“Jeebus Gardener. You have a dogs head attached to your leg!”
“Yeah. No shit. It hurts too. So what do we have?”