1. What is your favorite type of literature to read (magazine, newspaper, novels, nonfiction, poetry, etc.)?
hmmmm . . . . i'd have to say fiction . . . preferably horror & dark stuff. I simply love to read however, and have been known to just grab anything nearby to satiate my thirst. A fave story of my mom's is when i was little and we were on a road trip one summer for vacation. All there was in the van to read were those Shell car guides you would get for free from the gas station. I musta read each of those about 12 times!! i (theoretically) knew everything one could possibly know about cars ;)
2. What is your favorite novel?
WOW! my favorite novel??? hmm . . .well, i really really liked A Prayer for Owen Meany . . . and of course i LOVE just about anything from Anne Rice . . .but i'd have to say probably Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk. (he's the guy who also wrote "Fight Club"). It's just such an interesting book with it going backwards and all. It starts at the end and goes backwards to the beginning . . . even the pages are numbered backwards.It's a very cool book . . .albeit a little "weird" for those of you into John Grisham & V.C. andrews etc.
3. Do you have a favorite poem? (Share it!)
My Last Duchess
Robert Browning
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will `t please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, `twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much," or "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart -- how shall I say? -- too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, `twas all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace -- all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men -- good! but thanked
Somehow -- I know not how -- as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech -- which I have not -- to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark" -- and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse
-- E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will `t please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innshruck cast in bronze for me!
1842
There are far too many books here to name, for reading is indeed a apssion of mine. Let's just say that a goal of mine has been to go to the neighborhood library and check out and read every single book they have there . . . preferably in order as they are on the shelves ;)
5. What are you currently reading?
Currently I am going between 2 books (dependant upon my mood) Wobegone Boy by Garrison Keillor and Lord of the Flies by William Golding
