#formative reading

[lover-of-the-starkindler]

Wonder what kind of hat this is...

(Original strip 10-24-1982)

[wordsprevail]

“…that is his nature … But you’re all different, you know. You are as different from each other as a fish is different from a bird and a bird is different from a bear. Could a bird swim? Could a bear fly? Don’t try to make other people like yourself... Try rather to discover who you really are...Then you will be like yourself – and no one else...You will be…yourself. When that time comes…then the alchemy will have taken place. Then you will indeed be…gold.”

— William Corlett, The Magician's House Quartet

[bimbonaparte]

[thedanackerman]

Formative reading - Tithe

Tithe by Holly Black was one of the first urban fantasy books I’d ever read. The world, the characters, the magic of it, as well as the overall trashy/spooky tone of the story had me right away.

This book showed me that fantasy isn’t always neat and clean. It opened up the world of fairytales in a new away.

[thedanackerman]

Formative Reading - Alexandre Dumas

As a child, I read. I read now, too, but less than I did when I was still very young. I read as though I needed it to live. One of the first authors I can distinctly remember reading is Alexandre Dumas.

This interest came, in no small part, from the movie adaptations. I saw them first, I won’t lie, but they birthed a fascination with the French novelist that persisted for many years.

From Dumas, I gained a love for historical fiction, for embellished versions of history, and for the political landscape of monarchies and revolution.

[femchef]

OH GOD THAT WHOLE CONVERSATION BETWEEN MARCO AND JAKE ABOUT CHEESE TASTING GREEN ONLY BEING MENTIONED IN PASSING THAT WAS LIKE MY FIRST FANFIC EXPERIENCE EVER I WAS ELEVEN AND I WROTE IT ON THE INSIDE OF MY SCHOOL NOTEBOOK I WISH I STILL HAD THAT FUCK

[literarypiano]

I am a woman going mad. I am a woman hallucinating. I imagine I am huge, raw, a giant. When I am a giant I go out with my sleeves rolled up and my skirts swirling round me like a whirlpool. I have a sack such as kittens are drowned in and I stop off all over the world filling it up. Men shoot at me, but I take the bullets out of my cleavage and I chew them up. Then I laugh and laugh and break their guns between my fingers the way you would a wish-bone.

From Sexing the Cherry, by Jeanette Winterson