I Read Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange &

The Process Of Learning Is A Nonstop Orgy Of Wonderment.

It Was So Much Easier To Be Angry. Being Angry Made Him Feel Strong, Even Though-- And This Contradiction Did Nothing To Diminish His Anger-- He Was Angry Only Because His Position Was So Weak.

That’s What Death Did, It Treated You Like A Child, Like Everything You Had Ever Thought And Done And Cared About Was Just A Child’s Game, To Be Crumpled Up And Thrown Away When It Was Over. It Didn’t Matter. Death Didn’t Respect You. Death Thought You Were Bullshit, And It Wanted To Make Sure You Knew It.

My Book Group Has One Rule: No Books For Adults. We Read Young Adult Fiction Only.

Escapism Has Value, Even If I Don't Know What Its Value Is, Exactly. Maybe It's Just Part Of Some Healthy Way That We Deal With The World.