I've got a cold. I know, I know, it's not your problem. I get it, but could you just be a bud and make it your problem for just a second?
In addition to the goo, the sneezing and the near-sleepless nights spent cough-cough-coughing, being sick is causing a much bigger problem for me: I can't read. Though I can't sleep at night because (as we all know, if not from life, then certainly from commercials) colds inexplicably get worse in the evenings. However, the second I try to get any reading done during the day I find that my eyes burn, my nose clears up a little bit, and then all of a sudden it's three hours later, my book is all bent up and under me, and I didn't get a single page read. Lame city.
Alright...to be fair, books don't just make me feel sleepy when I'm sick. There are other times, when I'm not sick, that reading makes me sleepy. For instance, although I didn't find it to be a particularly terrible book, I fell asleep multiple times while reading Carter Beats the Devil. It's a heavy book, and therefore a liabilty when reading it if you're prone to falling asleep (guard your nose).
This sleepiness got me thinking about other ways that books make me feel: happy, angry, sad, mopey, furious, meh... As a human woman, I have such a horrifying, and dizzying spread of emotions, that I figured it would be good to, for the blog, narrow it down to discussing these feelings in terms of the Seven Dwarfs. (I'm sick, and not really thinking clearly here, guys. Sorry.)
As far as books go, there are a couple ways that dopey could be interpreted. Have I ever felt stupid after finishing a book? Sure, although I don't really finish books that I suspect might make me feel that way — call me a quitter if you like — I'd rather have those hours to do other things. A book that made me feel dopey in a way where I was kind of romanced out, dazed, and felt like my brain might be a little mushier than before is One Day. It didn't add anything to my life except for tears at the end, and a ready-made hatred for the movie adaption.
This isn't an adjective. I didn't think this blog through. Ummm. There have only been a few times that I've picked up non-fiction books about science. One of them was The Best American Science Writing 2007. I bought this book so that I could talk about more interesting things with my boyfriend at the time (who is now my husband, so I guess it worked). This book is full of articles from different sources including The New Yorker, the Philadelphia Inquirer, Popular Science, and the New York Times. The pieces are (for the most part) pretty darned accessible, and interesting as hell. The article I remember most from the book, however, was taken from Esquire magaine. It's all about the Theory of Everything, and what scientists hoped that the Hadron Collider would tell us about the universe. I've never felt as smart as the moment I grasped, even in the most abstract of ways, what String Theory is all about.
This should be easy, but it's kind of not. Most of the books that make me happy in the end have also made me feel a myriad of other ways, which is what makes them so good. There might not be a book that has made me feel only happy from beginning to end. This silly exercise is surprisingly hard.
I don't know what this means in terms of books. (Why did I choose this as my blog today? Curse this sickness!) Leaving a book feeling bashful? Is this like, I was a kid and I found the sexy parts in Clan of the Cave Bear and felt weird? Or, is this like I read a book like Rules of Attraction and found myself unable to form any realtionships in college because they all are doomed to fair/inherently misguided? I'm not answering this one because it doesn't make any sense.
A book that's made me feel grumpy? Jesus. You know what? It's not one book, it's a type of book. I get really grumpy after reading a book where someone good has to die just so someone who isn't as good can learn a lesson. This happens all too frequently, and it drives me insane. This isn't a lesson to take back to the world (I'm of the mind that books should generally be didactic in nature, and that a conversation I don't really like to get into). You can't see it, but I'm pacing around, sweating and swearing just thinking about books that do this. The list is too long.
What? When I think of books that would make me sneeze, I think of old books that are covered in dust, or books about pepper. There are plenty of old, dusty books out there to make you sneeze, but only one book that I can think of with pepper, and I've been thinking about it all morning for some reason. In that kids book How to Eat Fried Worms, just description of eating that nightcrawler makes me hungry. Is that gross? He fries it up and covers it in salt, pepper, and ketchup, and it makes me think of a hot dog, which is delicious. Not to mention that worms don't get disease, and they are insanely clean, so eating a big, fat, band-aid colored worm is probably better for you than a hot dog.
Courtney Algeo feels terrible (from the cold, and about this blog).