Monday, October 20, 20083:45 p.m. Today’s discussion in my History of Literary Thought class gave me much to think about. We talked about text being an open conversation between the author and every reader who encounters the text by interacting, digesting, evaluating, and discussing it. The conversations are never ending; because of the longevity of printed material, texts come into the hands of people from different locations and ages, bringing with them varying perspectives and ideals. As a writer, this idea brings me both feelings of comfort and insecurity. I wonder if what I’m writing now speaks to anyone. Who is my text reaching through the course of time? And what do you have to say back?8:16 p.m.I’m taking notes in Senior Seminar with Dr. Farrokh. His lecture is on Aristotle, which sends my mind back to my History of Lit. class. It’s amazing how, though thousands of threads of time and miles of space separate us, here we are “conversing” with an ancient Greek philosopher. The lecture leads to a discussion of Samuel Johnson’s work, “The Preface to Shakespeare.” Dr Farrokh reads, “As among works of nature, no man can properly call a river deep or a mountain wide until he has experienced many rivers and many mountains, so in the production of genius, nothing can be stiled excellent till it has been compared with other works of the same kind.” That knocks me out. Johnson’s a wise dude. 11:37 p.m.After class, a friend and I discussed the tragic lack of bookstores in this city. I remember practically living in B. Dalton’s when I was younger, and for birthdays and Christmas, I always received B. Dalton’s gift cards. I miss the days of reading for pleasure. My reading “frenzy” took off around the time I moved to Laredo at 6 years old. When I got here, I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t speak any Spanish, which made it difficult to connect with family and friends. As cheesy as it sounds, books became my best companions. With each new book came new people, places, and adventures. The discussions in my classes earlier today got me reminiscing about those good old days, and I’ve come to understand what it means to engage in a conversation with a text. Reading is a way to experience the world as presented by the text that otherwise would not be available to us. We can never visit Plato’s cave in ancient Greece or have tea in 18th century London with Samuel Johnson, but we get to know them and their worlds through reading. It’s unfortunate that so much time has passed since my B. Dalton’s days, and it’s still the only bookstore in town. If reading does not become a bigger part of our lives, we risk being left out of the conversation and never experiencing “many rivers and many mountains.”
Tuesday, October, 21, 20089:30 a.m.As I’m parking in front of Cowart Hall, the deejay on radio station 94.9 is signing out. “Have a great day Laredo! Read a book, and-” I turn off my car and smile.