the corrections

there is a book that sits on my shelf and mocks me every single time we make eye contact. it is perched there, always reminding me that i never made it past page 113 and have picked it up on occasion and then replaced it with the sigh that comes naturally with frustration and failure. this book is called "the corrections" and it has been somewhat the bane of my existence. i first picked this book up a few years ago after my sister finally trudged her way through it and flung it across the room in victory upon finishing the last word. and i started to read. and i started to hate this book. and i vowed that it would not get the best of me, that i would finish this damn prize-winning book even if it killed me.

i don't know what it was about the story that caused me such anguish. i think it was just the fact that it didn't grab my interest or intrigue me from the beginning. i remember not really wanting to read more about one of the characters because he was such a mess and it was like witnessing a trainwreck. and so at page 113, i called it quits, put it on the shelf for another day, another time.

that time has come. my dear friend gary and i have formed a support group of sorts because, you see, gary has had the same frustrating experience in trying to read this book as i have. so we have vowed to read it at the same time, discuss, yell, encourage and do whatever is necessary to finish this. it has become a personal goal for both of us. i even referred to finishing the corrections (rather self did that for me) in my very first blog post and so now i plan to mark it off the list of unfinished things in my life. it may seem minute, but those 557 pages will be conquered, once and for all.