I realized today that it has been nine years since I read a book with an introduction in it. I’ve read lots and lots of books, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like I got out of college and the nonfiction part of the bookstore magically disappeared. Barnes&Noble was suddenly half the size, Borders … did it have nonfiction in it? … The Library … well, aside from going there for researching the Nellis project, I totally avoided the place. (I swear, it smells like learning in there. If learning had a smell, its right there in between the bookshelves, mingled with the scent of unwashed college students nearing finals week.)
I feel very wimpy. There’s a lot of great nonfiction out there. It’s just that, when you’re going through the school years, it’s like the teachers get together and pick the driest, most terrible, longest books possible to torture students with. For that matter, some nonfiction authors could try to spice up their work. I’m not saying they should suddenly write about an alien invasion during the Civil War, though that certainly would have perked me up in History 101, but they could try to use some action words. Verbs, people! Learn your verbs!