McKillip, Catch 22, Other Things

Yes, I'm still reading. I'm actually just now itching to start picking up new, random books once more. I'm not entirely sure why, but I needed a hiatus. Perhaps I was focusing more on the craptastic story I'm writing myself- for fun, you know, something I might enjoy reading but I wouldn't necessarily expect anyone else to. I wish I could remember the exact quote, but you know, 'books are for writing, not for reading,' said someone once. And I firmly believe in that. Yes.

Anyway, what have I read in the past few months? Actually I was feeling in need of inspiration recently, since I am really officially starting my photography business, and so I grabbed one my my college books from my shelf and read through it a couple times: Why People Photograph by Robert Adams. It's an interesting look into, well, why people take up a camera and point it where they do, and click the shutter when they choose. It's more of a compilation of philosophical essays and musings concerning personal motivation and also what you are communicating.
It helped.

I was also recently handed a small book titled The Changeling Sea by Patricia McKillip, which was really beautifully written, but that didn't prevent my from rolling my eyes at the three grown men tripping over themselves for the 'unattractive' fifteen-year-old protagonist. The person who gave it to me to read said McKillip seems to have a theme in a lot of her books where the protagonist is dealing with death in some way, which I think is interesting, because that can be a fascinating tunnel to explore- the way the death of your father, mother, friend, or maybe even king can affect one's mind.
The protagonist of The Changeling Sea is Peri, whose fisherman father has recently drowned in the sea, and she must come to terms with it. There might be a fairy-tale ending that Peri has done absolutely nothing to deserve, but somehow it's still a sweet story with characters that are simultaneously one-dimensional yet also realistic.

You know what else, I tried to read Catch-22 by Joseph Heller, and have deemed myself intellectually unworthy. I think I'm at a weird point in my life where I can't deviate too far from thinking about myself, which is how I can get through bits of fluff like the story above, or books about photography, but something like Catch-22 makes me go WHOA whoa whoa, guys, where the HELL am I right now??! But that's probably good for me. Maybe I'll try again sometime.