At first, the book of my choice was Rebecca. However, after the first night (when those who had their books had to read 30 minutes for homework), I decided to switch to a shorter book. After much calculation, I knew could not make the deadline. By my calculations, I had to read at least thirty pages each time we had to read for thirty minutes (which would be three classes a week; ninety minutes a week), and at least ninety pages a week, if I wanted to finish the 380-paged book in four weeks (and at ninety pages a week, I would still have twenty pages left over). As I later realized, I was pretty much an exceptionally slow reader; this time, I finished reading ten pages – and some of these pages were “chapter pages (which are shorter because of the space the chapter number takes up at the beginning of each chapter, and the occasional extra space left over at the end of the chapter).” At this rate, I would definitely not be able to finish in time.
Thus, I switched to a shorter book on Anxiety, called The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. First, a small introduction: my book is about a guy called Christopher John Francis Boone, who is really smart. He “knows all the countries of the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057. He relates well to animals but has no understanding of human emotions. He cannot stand to be touched. And he detests the color yellow.” In this novel, Christopher acts as a detective who tries to solve the murder of a “neighborhood dog.” Though the storyline is a bit unusual, I was immediately captivated – not only by the curiosity of why he was doing such a thing, but also because in some ways, I found that Christopher was a relatable character. He makes timetables (I tend to occasionally skip around, even though I try not to in order to be surprised when something exciting happens), and he makes timetables because he “likes to know when everything is going to happen.” I, too, make timetables – and for the exact same reason. Though I am pretty terrible at geography and math, I am also a borderline germaphobe, and am an introvert. Though these comparisons may be slightly juvenile and a bit trivial, this is part of what drew me in. To me, a connection with the main character shows me that if I continue reading, I might just learn something new about myself.
Anyhow, as mentioned previously, I am a slow reader. In the thirty minutes I was given, I only read 15 1/2 pages (it’s a half because the chapter ends in the middle of the pages, and starts in the middle of the page). I also mentioned in a previous blog that I prefer print books (which is why I acquired the hardcopy), because without “a tangible book (with tangible pages), the experience is too different. I like holding a book, turning the pages, placing it on and taking it off my shelf. I need to visually see the printed words and not-completely-white pages, and hear the pages crinkling.”
While I was reading the novel, I was neither just sitting nor just lying down. I am the type of person who likes to move around; I can’t sit still for long, even if I am completely concentrated on doing something. Thus, I was both sitting and lying down. On the subject of movement, I also unconsciously do things when I am reading. During not-so-entertaining parts, I tend to twirl my hair. During suspenseful parts, I tend to sit up straight, widen my eyes a little, hold my breath, and start skimming really quickly. During parts I don’t like (when people yell at the protagonist, for instance), I glare at the book. During funny parts or happy parts, I smile a little. During sad parts (or parts I do not like), I frown a bit. Naturally, reading a book while having facial expressions that respond to the events is a bit embarrassing, so I try to hide this when I’m in public. You could say that I treat my book like a person with many faces. It’s a little exaggerated of course, but that’s how you could see it.
Even though I do not give myself permission to skip pages, chapters, and take a peek at the end, I do so anyway. I just can’t help myself. Sometimes, the suspense gets the best of me, and I just can’t resist skipping around. I just feel satisfied after I know what will happen; without this closure, I would probably not stop reading at thirty minutes...and do homework meant for 4 weeks in a day. Another thing I tend to do when I’m reading is I tend to go backwards a lot, which happens when I forget something that has happened, or when I start wandering off by thinking about something else as my eyes move across the lines from left to right, top to bottom. Which contributes to the time it takes me to read. I also make comments in my head on what’s happening in the story…which is useful when annotating, but not useful when I’m not. This also contributes to my slowness in reading.
But I really like the book so far. It’s very “logical,” logical in the way that it is written, which is a change for me, but it’s a nice sort of change. It’s told in a simple, straightforward way, in a different, refreshing point of view. It’s interesting because I think I write (blogs and creative writing assignments for instance, but not formal essays) in the same way. The author/main character also occasionally goes on tangents…and I understand why, because I do too (when I have a million things I want to say and I start rambling). It’s hard to explain, but once you’ve read it, I think you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.
I really want to know who committed the murder, but I think I’m going to try not to spoil the surprise this time. A bit of mystery is always good, right?
Thus, I switched to a shorter book on Anxiety, called The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. First, a small introduction: my book is about a guy called Christopher John Francis Boone, who is really smart. He “knows all the countries of the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057. He relates well to animals but has no understanding of human emotions. He cannot stand to be touched. And he detests the color yellow.” In this novel, Christopher acts as a detective who tries to solve the murder of a “neighborhood dog.” Though the storyline is a bit unusual, I was immediately captivated – not only by the curiosity of why he was doing such a thing, but also because in some ways, I found that Christopher was a relatable character. He makes timetables (I tend to occasionally skip around, even though I try not to in order to be surprised when something exciting happens), and he makes timetables because he “likes to know when everything is going to happen.” I, too, make timetables – and for the exact same reason. Though I am pretty terrible at geography and math, I am also a borderline germaphobe, and am an introvert. Though these comparisons may be slightly juvenile and a bit trivial, this is part of what drew me in. To me, a connection with the main character shows me that if I continue reading, I might just learn something new about myself.
Anyhow, as mentioned previously, I am a slow reader. In the thirty minutes I was given, I only read 15 1/2 pages (it’s a half because the chapter ends in the middle of the pages, and starts in the middle of the page). I also mentioned in a previous blog that I prefer print books (which is why I acquired the hardcopy), because without “a tangible book (with tangible pages), the experience is too different. I like holding a book, turning the pages, placing it on and taking it off my shelf. I need to visually see the printed words and not-completely-white pages, and hear the pages crinkling.”
While I was reading the novel, I was neither just sitting nor just lying down. I am the type of person who likes to move around; I can’t sit still for long, even if I am completely concentrated on doing something. Thus, I was both sitting and lying down. On the subject of movement, I also unconsciously do things when I am reading. During not-so-entertaining parts, I tend to twirl my hair. During suspenseful parts, I tend to sit up straight, widen my eyes a little, hold my breath, and start skimming really quickly. During parts I don’t like (when people yell at the protagonist, for instance), I glare at the book. During funny parts or happy parts, I smile a little. During sad parts (or parts I do not like), I frown a bit. Naturally, reading a book while having facial expressions that respond to the events is a bit embarrassing, so I try to hide this when I’m in public. You could say that I treat my book like a person with many faces. It’s a little exaggerated of course, but that’s how you could see it.
Even though I do not give myself permission to skip pages, chapters, and take a peek at the end, I do so anyway. I just can’t help myself. Sometimes, the suspense gets the best of me, and I just can’t resist skipping around. I just feel satisfied after I know what will happen; without this closure, I would probably not stop reading at thirty minutes...and do homework meant for 4 weeks in a day. Another thing I tend to do when I’m reading is I tend to go backwards a lot, which happens when I forget something that has happened, or when I start wandering off by thinking about something else as my eyes move across the lines from left to right, top to bottom. Which contributes to the time it takes me to read. I also make comments in my head on what’s happening in the story…which is useful when annotating, but not useful when I’m not. This also contributes to my slowness in reading.
But I really like the book so far. It’s very “logical,” logical in the way that it is written, which is a change for me, but it’s a nice sort of change. It’s told in a simple, straightforward way, in a different, refreshing point of view. It’s interesting because I think I write (blogs and creative writing assignments for instance, but not formal essays) in the same way. The author/main character also occasionally goes on tangents…and I understand why, because I do too (when I have a million things I want to say and I start rambling). It’s hard to explain, but once you’ve read it, I think you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.
I really want to know who committed the murder, but I think I’m going to try not to spoil the surprise this time. A bit of mystery is always good, right?