I put it back on the shelf and reached instead for The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. A few chapters in, however, I found I was dragging myself through paragraphs, bored with the prose and the characters. I first picked up an old Stephen King paperback, a novel I devoured on the first read and figured would be fun to revisit. Having finally exhausted the bookshelf (and lacking the funds to purchase new books) I was forced to do some re-reading. In the way that although you know that one day you will die, you live as though you won’t. You know how they end, yet you listen as though you don’t. They are as familiar as the house you live in. They don’t surprise you with the unforeseen. They don’t deceive you with thrills and trick endings. The ones you can enter anywhere and inhabit comfortably. The Great Stories are the ones you have heard and want to hear again.
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