This morning, I downloaded all of Dostoevsky's novels on my Kindle in one file for .99 cents. Gosh, I love that I couldn't care less about bestselling books, and that I still prefer Thomas Hardy to Dean Koontz. It makes me a nerd, but one who can support her reading habit without going to the library and checking out other people's books. Ick.
I was rereading "A Pair of Blue Eyes" this weekend. It's an obscure Hardy novel, but it's one of my favorites because Hardy tries to end it happily, but then nope, that pessimist has to come out somewhere -- but as a reader I am never disappointed. Even in "Jude the Obscure" though you might not want to read this one if you've ever been suicidal. Hardy is the guy yelling "JUMP!" behind you if you're on the ledge.
What I love about Hardy and other classics is they don't have this ridiculous show vs. tell thing as authors. They can just save themselves a few pages and tell us someone's personality. They don't have to "Show" everything in a scene. That's my pet peeve. How today's novels all start with the same crap "show" scenes:
"Titan Manning watched the doorknob turn slowly. Her throat tightened and she clutched at her chest. Her ears filled with the pounding of her heart. He wouldn't get her this time, she vowed." Yeah, yeah. Okay, now Hardy:
"Elfride Swancourt was a girl whose emotions lay very near the surface...one point in her, you did notice: that was her eyes. In them was seem a sublimation of all of her; it was not necessary to look further: there she lived.
These eyes were blue; blue as autumn distance -- blue as the blue we see between the retreating mouldings of hills and woody slops on a sunny September morning. A misty and shady blue, that had no beginning or surface, and was looked into rather than at."
Sigh. And double sigh. My soulmate has been dead for three hundred years. LOL