The Library

ashley: So basically I brought a ridiculous amount of books for the trip. I can get bored with reading one book at a time, but I think I went a little overboard. Here is the list of the library:

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving

Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts

Speaker For the Dead by Orson Scott Card

Shadow Catcher by Marianne Wiggins

The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis

The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G Wells

So there’s that.

I brought… A Farewell to Arms by one Mr. Ernest Hemingway (he’s a lesser known author). Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. The Chess Machine by Robert Lohr. And we (and by we I mean Ashley) bought 1984 by George Orwell (so I can read it again cause I love it).

mila: I have this problem. Psychologists commence your analysis. I have an issue with good things ending. I have read many books. I used to actually be obsessed with reading as a youngun. I would come home from school and immediately pick up a book and read and read and read until bedtime. I would even be so annoying as to whisper read and my sister, all the way down the hall, would yell, “Shut-up!” and that’s how I knew it was time to sleep. Being an avid reader planted the seed of imagination, fueling my desire to write. I would write these amazing epic stories at the age of seven, but there were never any endings. (I’m already beginning to analyze myself at this point) When I started college at the age of fifteen (yes, I’m a genius, whatever) I had to read so much and memorize loads of information just to score high on tests that would determine my future of getting into U.S.C. Reading for pleasure was a thing of the past… When I finally got to cinema school at the university, I decided I wasn’t going to read anything anymore- this included assigned reading material; somehow this dumb-brained method worked, I got As and Bs and graduated. It took sometime post bachelor degree for me to pick up my old fiction hobby. And with the urging of my best friend (that’s Ashley in case you haven’t gathered that by now) I started reading again. I would go really fast up until I saw the end approaching and then I would interrupt my pace and put it away. This made my frustrated my bookworm friend because as she puts it “There’s so many good books out there. The sooner you finish this one the sooner you can start another one. Why waste time with just this one.” (I’ve completely butchered what she advises, but you get the point)

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