The innate powers of literature and poetry have been haunting me. I blame it on my AP Literature homework and the book that I'm currently reading about literary analysis and interpretation. It's Thomas Foster's How to Read Literature Like a Professor, and I think I'm enjoying it far too much. (I mean, intertextuality? Yes, always and forever!) When I was little, I used to dress up in blouses that were way too big for me to play either hospital or school (or occasionally "newspaper" and "store") with my brother and misfit dolls, and I'd always get very emotionally involved in whatever role I was playing, but, regardless of whether or not we were in outer space or in a 1820s schoolhouse, books and reading were always involved. They've been constant friends, loved to the point of torn pages and stains and memorization. What's unfortunate, though, is that, no matter how much I love stories and books, there are still so many people in the world who don't have them. I've mentioned this before, yes, but the whole back-to-school (almost) thing has been reminding me of it because, while we're all seeing our summers wind down and wishing they'd last longer, there are whole villages of people that are starving and will never get to go to a schoolhouse or learn to read. It's a true tragedy. I hope maybe one day I'll be able to do more than just write about it, but writing is a start.
<3 Frances
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