Reading Writing
I am reading books again.
I stopped, for a while. The reason doesn’t matter. According to Stats Can over 50 per cent of Canadians sit down to read a book at least once a week. That doesn’t mean they finish it, but hey – at least we are reading!
Earlier this evening I cracked Richard Wagamese “Medicine Walk” published in 2014. Found myself loving this description of male conversation:
“He heard them as soon as he entered. Man talk. Deep, rumbled voices that had no pitch or sway, just a long rollout of words that left him knowing that what they discussed had weight to it.”
A passage just preceding describes the chickens:
“He liked the hens. He liked their bobbing, pecking scurry and the old lady sort of attitude about their roosts. He liked eggs too, so it didn’t feel like a chore to him.”
To my ear, that’s writing for reading. I could say a lot more about this writing, this book. But I think the best thing is just to keep reading the book. That is the experience that matters here, reading real writing that is, which prompted the desire to share. So I’ll keep doing that for now – reading, reading real writing. Perhaps you’ll join me?
