March 24, 2010
“feeling unalone”
Or what I like to call the “holy shit” moment, a moment that often happens at two in the morning when I am in the thick of a really good book and need to go to work in the morning:
Sometimes this process of resizing and refitting is easier than others. And sometimes, the prolific (or just incredibly fortunate) reader will stumble upon a sublime moment in a particular text in which the need for translation seems to disappear altogether. At these points, the reader suddenly feels that he knows exactly what the author is trying to articulate; and the amazing part is that he knows these things because he has experienced them himself without ever putting a name to them. For a chapter, a page, a paragraph, or even just a sentence fragment, it is as if the writer and the reader share one pair of eyes, one mind.
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