Nothing Thrills Us Anymore, No One Kills Us Anymore, Life Is Such A Chore, When It's Boring

--"Boring", The Pierces

Thirty-six hours after I bought White Knight, the newest book by Jim Butcher in The Dresden Files, I finished it. It wasn't a conscious decision. I thought I would have all this weekend to leisurely lose myself in that world once again. But, alas and alack, that wasn't to be. I bought it last Tuesday night after work and had it done in the wee hours of Thursday morning. Now I'm only left with the saddened thoughts of a guy who has to wait another eighteen months before the next installment comes out.

I don't know how to explain my fascination with the book. I can only chalk it up to two aspects that I've always had a lifelong affinity for. One, it involves the supernatural, which is one subject matter I can always get into. The story basically centers around one Harry Dresden, Wizard-for-hire, but is set in basically our world. The only difference is that everything mystical or supernatural you ever read about or heard stories about is real--ghosts, werewolves, vampires, &c.... In this respect it reminds me much of Laurel K. Hamilton's Anita Blake series--at least, the early installments, before they became romance books with a dash of mystery and horror thrown in. Two, Harry plays like a detective in a film noir story right down the wisecracking hard-edged dialogue to the great personal sacrifices he undergoes throughout the story to protect the innocent and do what he thinks is right. If anything, this side of the stories appeal to me even more than the supernatural stuff because I'm constantly finding myself amazed at just how much he loses in his personal life, in his professional life, and himself just to uphold his ideals. I am telling you right now, there is no way I would be able to lose half as much and still remain relatively upbeat about it.


everything I ever wanted
boring

I also like the series because Jim Butcher has a real knack for plotting. Not only does he have one main plot carrying throughout each book, but there are several sub-plots going on throughout each book and throughout the series. If I had to number the amount of threads currently the reader has to keep track of by the time you get to White Night, which is book nine, it would probably number at least two dozen. So richly complex and rich is the narrative that I can only read in awe at how Mr. Butcher ties them altogether. It's like watching a master juggler handling eight pins without sweat and then audibly gaspin as he adds a couple more to his workload. These books are what imagine Lost or The X-Files could've been like if they had managed to expand upon their mythos without losing track of the questions they had already asked.

However, they bring up another issue with me. These books have probably replaced my social life to a certain degree. Reading these books, along with staying on top of my fantasy baseball league and real baseball as well, is probably the activity I enjoy the most right now. Sure, writing here and my screenplays probably fulfills me the most, but it's still hard work comparably. And, sure, I still love going out to try out a new restaurant or catch the latest film playing, but, again, that is more active than reading a good book.

Time was I hated being stuck indoors. All I did was sit at home waiting for plans to develop or someone to call me with something to do. Time was I would do anything to get out and about. I would stoop to actually calling people and announcing I was bored. I would drive around with no apparent destination. Sometimes I would even make plans with people I totally hated because I hated being cooped up even more.

Now I think I've mellowed with getting older. I've started to relish the quiet times more than the exciting times. This is not to say I don't enjoy a night out on the town, but I know now that those times are special when they can be done right. I would rather have one or two good nights out a month where everything is awesome than a few kind-of-fun adventures every weekend. In that regard, I identify with Harry's plight in the books. The course of the books winds its way through about a year apart between stories, during which Harry states emphatically that nothing of great import happens. He is clear to warn the reader that just because the stories contained within are fraught with danger and peril, seemingly suggesting a life of constant excitement, does not mean that's how it is all the time. He suggests that his life is like a baseball game, a lot of standing around with occasional flurries of all-out effort.

I think that's how my life is now and I'm kind of comfortable with that idea. After all, no one wants to have adventures chasing after mad sorcerors and avenging the deaths of one's friends and family everyday.

Sometimes you just want to read a book.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers