Reading on....
The other day I sat back and counted the number of books that I’ve read so far. The list mostly boasted of the names of very selective authors, the likes of SIDNEY SHELDON, JOHN GRISHAM, JEFFREY ARCHER and DANIEL STEEL. And let’s pretend that I didn’t name DANIEL STEEL there as it is as bad as admitting that I also watch OPRAH. Damn it.
Anyway, ever since the time I remember having picked up my first book, I’ve always had a hearty dislike for the non-fiction genre, whereas fiction was something that caught my interest almost instantaneously. Even though I may come across as a complete maverick in this case, as I do in most cases, there is a valid reason behind this school of thought that I follow.
I’ve always maintained the fact that reality is ubiquitous and one doesn’t have to go looking for it, let alone spend around 300-450 bucks for reading a book based on the same. It is sometimes hard to believe that some people actually do spend a pretty penny on these books and claim to have drawn some inspiration from the same. Personally, I feel that most of these books are boring enough to be the perfect substitutes for tranquilizers or remedies for insomnia. All the reality that one can and needs to face is presented to us, neatly packaged, by the newspapers and the television news channels on an infuriatingly-daily-basis. And that’s all I can take. I always try to keep myself away from realities as much as possible.
The difference between the non-fiction-fans and the fiction ones is quite simple.
The former want to get inspired; while the latter want to be entertained. The former may love to study the journey of another person’s life by reading his autobiography; whereas the latter are too busy enjoying the journey of their own lives. While the former like to learn; the latter like to imagine. The former live inside the realm of reality; while the latter want to power through the same and travel into a whole different space of their own once in a while.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I fall in the second category for sure. I’m on my 24th novel at present. And I sure am no ‘Alice’, but I do love to be in my own ‘wonderland’ of sorts every now and then.
They say that truth is ‘stranger’ than fiction, and I’ve always preferred being on the simpler side of life. I hope you get the picture.
The other day I sat back and counted the number of books that I’ve read so far. The list mostly boasted of the names of very selective authors, the likes of SIDNEY SHELDON, JOHN GRISHAM, JEFFREY ARCHER and DANIEL STEEL. And let’s pretend that I didn’t name DANIEL STEEL there as it is as bad as admitting that I also watch OPRAH. Damn it.
Anyway, ever since the time I remember having picked up my first book, I’ve always had a hearty dislike for the non-fiction genre, whereas fiction was something that caught my interest almost instantaneously. Even though I may come across as a complete maverick in this case, as I do in most cases, there is a valid reason behind this school of thought that I follow.
I’ve always maintained the fact that reality is ubiquitous and one doesn’t have to go looking for it, let alone spend around 300-450 bucks for reading a book based on the same. It is sometimes hard to believe that some people actually do spend a pretty penny on these books and claim to have drawn some inspiration from the same. Personally, I feel that most of these books are boring enough to be the perfect substitutes for tranquilizers or remedies for insomnia. All the reality that one can and needs to face is presented to us, neatly packaged, by the newspapers and the television news channels on an infuriatingly-daily-basis. And that’s all I can take. I always try to keep myself away from realities as much as possible.
The difference between the non-fiction-fans and the fiction ones is quite simple.
The former want to get inspired; while the latter want to be entertained. The former may love to study the journey of another person’s life by reading his autobiography; whereas the latter are too busy enjoying the journey of their own lives. While the former like to learn; the latter like to imagine. The former live inside the realm of reality; while the latter want to power through the same and travel into a whole different space of their own once in a while.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I fall in the second category for sure. I’m on my 24th novel at present. And I sure am no ‘Alice’, but I do love to be in my own ‘wonderland’ of sorts every now and then.
They say that truth is ‘stranger’ than fiction, and I’ve always preferred being on the simpler side of life. I hope you get the picture.
then can it be said once again...to each his own?
ReplyDeleteI dont read much...but given a choice I'd prefer fiction.
Nice one.....
ReplyDeletei cant even bear the non fiction one's
sadly we have been compelled to read a Management book and make a prsntn on it...God I knw wat an ordeal it was !!!
n guess what - i swapped it for
RICH DAD POOR DAD
Ppl who read fiction are starry eyed while ppl preferring non fiction are pragmatic.....