|I know I put Angela’s
Come again? What was that?
I am always, I think, amazed by the inconsistencies in my ability to remember. This comes to mind because for the first time since, well I’m not sure, I am rereading a book: Angela’s Ashes.
I am astonished when I flag a page in a novel and flip back to it weeks later and know exactly where to begin on that page. This sentence is intended to elicit such a sensation. I scan the page and tell myself, “I have already read those bits, ah there I am.” Isn’t that cool? Actually I feel like a dork for even thinking about it (hey, this is my stream of conscious – welcome). But for someone who doesn’t even know his own phone number (yes, I have one now but it is such an odd combination of digits), it is a good feeling to know exactly where my reading begins on page 323. I will spare you an analysis of how this phenomenon plays out on a Kindle.
So let’s see where this re-read takes me, will I remember complete passages? Will I recall the good bits? It has been years since I read Frank McCourt’s gem. Do you know that it was his first book, a memoir, which he published in his sixties? There is hope.
I considered creating a “dork” tag for this post, but then realized I would have to go back and tag all 23 posts with it. I must revise my book, quit worrying about the novel on my bedside table (if I had one), and stop procrastinating. Who cares if I remember particular parts of Angela’s Ashes? This sentence is intended to elicit such a sensation.
Happy procrastinating, whoops I mean revising…