The Love Behind The Work

Napoli, Italy, 2017

  Happy Saturday, lovely people!
  We'll forget the corniness of it all. I've been reading On The Road by Jack Kerouac and to be honest, it just isn't my kind of a book. I appreciate the free-flowing, musical writing style that he has adopted, but the story, in itself, is lacking something - a certain depth. While reading I don't find myself rooting for any of the characters and that, I think, is a problem. A good book should make you root for someone; you should be invested in their lives, in their wins, in their losses. It should make you feel. This is what I've learned over the past decade or so of reading: the only books which are imprinted in our memories are the ones which made us feel the most; the characters were our very own friends. 
  I have also been quite conflicted about my love for Harry Potter. There is a certain reverence that J.K. Rowling has inspired in me; I mean, good God, a woman constructed all that - an entire world - in her mind, and then had craftily enough introduced us to her world. She did it with so much dexterity that it has become absurd to even imagine someone not knowing who Dumbledore or Snape is. I have an immense admiration for her, but recently while reading the books, it occurred to me that the writing in itself isn't that proficient, rather it is the movies and the fact that millions of us grew up with the books - with the characters - that has instilled this curious nostalgia in us about this enchanting world.  
  Regardless, what really strikes a chord within one is watching her interviews and one can clearly see that Harry is her baby, her life's constant - perhaps, her best friend in many ways. One sees the passion and the love when she speaks about the books. That is how everyone should feel about their life's work, no matter what it is. There has to be love behind the work; the work has to be the baby.