The Emperor Of Dust

If you have time and had a few minutes to slumber, grab a cup of coffee, nibble Oreo, sit and lets talk. I’m not discussing on writing. I think I just want to alleviate the dawning literacy on our society by just a piece of writing.  I will not dissect peoples lives either nor event. They had suck the whole world already, believe me.

We do read.                                                        Yes, am sure of that.

Whatever our occupation, reading is essential on our daily life. We read E-mail, Text msgs, food menu on some Korean Deli, our daily devotions or maybe our favorite sports section in daily paper. (  Someone wrote about that already and I just plagiarized) Guilty beyond reasonable doubt, your honor.

Reading is part of our life, ‘ don’t ignore the red light on traffic post. It will be painful or worst once some punk behind the wheels may hit and run your ass’… 

Reading makes you who you are.         I’m a reader too like everybody does. Just a man who love Literature and any other way I won’t give a —

Being a reader, I considered myself slow although I’m trying to challenge myself to increase the book count per month. I only read 30 – 60 novel a year, a dozen non fiction, poetry, trivia and current event. I was amazed, there are challenge reading program that targeted a hundred novel a year. It was 8 books per month or more. 

Recently, I finished reading movie screenplay of Finding Forrester.             It was quite fast.  Really enjoyable.   Pure dialogue. 

This time I’m reading Salem’s lot by Stephen King which I’m halfway to finish. Maybe I can grab another novel of some thriller author before the end of this month, a legal drama perhaps. 

Salem’s Lot and the author himself, why I do read him.

Salem’s Lot is a second novel of Stephen King after Carrie. The story is vivid and seem I’m drawn at the place. He tried to recreate Bram Stokers Dracula. I am a huge fan of him, although he been branded as horror novelist. I had a paperback novel of Bram Stokers I read back in college, which I presumed as bizzares allegory of homosexual antagonist but prince Vlad or Dracula were in love to Jonathan Harker fiancee, then he is not. (obviously) There is no comparison at the two book. It had different voices of its own.

I still don’t get what Steve King made on his characters but I did seen a picture of character slowly and firm. The buyer of Marsten House who happened to have a long finger nail and bald cue ball head for instance.. The Susan and Ben Mears love story and their struggle from the people around. For me, it is the best part I like that stuff… honestly… It broke my heart…Her mom don’t like Ben for her. After long years of absence in the place, he seemed a stranger.  ‘It’s for the best of you to stay away on Sissy boy Susan’. Her mom wanted Floyd for her, and told her how the boy cried like a baby on her, begging for Susan, that he loves her after all the things happened. Susan told her mom that Floyd is a thing from the past. 

Floyd don’t want to give up her that easily and then he surprised Ben one night at the parking lot. Ben were beaten to death by Floyd Tibbits, a cry baby. Susan ran into the hospital after the telephone call, informed her that the love of her life were battered badly. She wanted to be at the side of Ben. My God, how many girl like her on this world. Women who love their men, mould them to be a man, from their care and tenderness. maybe, that’s the reason why I still read Steve King… Despite the fact that he was a sleep grabber. Those novel he wrote in a thousand pages like “The Stand”. 

He wrote horror flick but beneath the tranquil from the evilness everywhere, there are people living, and dying and laughing and of course showing love and tenderness.

There are two types of writer as GRR Martin Said, author of a blockbuster HBO series Game of thrones.

‘The architect and a gardener.

The architect author prepares his writing plot well, like outlining, researching, etc. everything been planned ahead.

The gardener author planted his plot on the pot and watered them everyday and let it grow.’ Both of this is effective, one way or another. But I like the idea of caring and loving.

Stephen King belong to —

The gardener…

He wrote like you were on the corner, witness how the character move and behave on their own way and you drink cola and listen a song.

When I started to collect books for my own library (which until now still a dream library).There was these two guy yelling at each other. The other one were skeptical holding the Danse Macabre. His friend, the fat one yelled that it was cool! Out of my curiosity, I listened on their argument while I’m holding The Hunt for Red October by Tom Clancy. “Unintentional” eavesdropping, they were practically shouting to each other. I did not buy his book at that moment. I took the defect Soviet Sub  that I luckily fished out beneath the dust hard bound shelve. 

First, Stephen King was expensive even it was a trade book. Second, I don’t know if I’m ready to engage on another game although I enjoyed the Gothic tale from my English major subject.  I read legal thriller, espionage, science fiction, or historical. To be a professional reader you need to read all types of books. Novel, textbook, the complete idiot’s guide for gardening, etc, and of course more importantly, the Bible. 

One time I went to trade book shoppe, my usual mundane during break hour at Chowking as a cook, I talked to a friend which is an avid collector of books, more compulsive than I was. He was an attorney who doesn’t practice law, and he wants to be called “Nap”, just Nap! he insisted. Nap for Napoleon? you got it, he said laughing on his 6′ stature and fierce eye. Nap or just Nap laughed easily on his joke he made. His voice boom at the crowded mall and called me by my name HERBERT!!!. He had a dim skin, brain protruded over his skull, and curled hair, a sign of great intellect. He read voraciously.

One time, Nap slammed the Hearts in Atlantis on the rack right infront on my face, that creates a tiny wham enough for my eyes to peek the cover and took my attention, as I unearthed some author I hadn’t read yet. He laughed, heads bent up. WTH you scared me I said and he laughed even harder. Lol, this friend of mine is just funny and I wanted to tell him that his saliva sprayed all over my face. Damn!

Try it.– he said. The giant regained his composure and I still on last mirth.  I looked at the book, smiled and shook my head. Tales from the crept that tingled spine.

He asked me if I’ve seen, (movie) The Green Mile and I said yes. The Shawshank redemption, yes. The Body or Stand by me, no. How about Carrie, yes. Fire starter; Drew Barrymore, yeah. You like that stuff, I guess so. I lied (just a little) but the Green Mile is my favorite, Tom Hanks leads the role and I watched it more than a dozen times.

Are you sure, he smiled. Okay I like movie as I love book. Then that is your man, he said.  I looked at him walked away toward the cashier and paid the soiled edition of Ian Flemming’s James Bond. He waited outside the book shoppe if I’ll buy the book. When he saw me tacked it on my palm and speaked “okay!” audibly beyond the glass panel wall, he gone smiling and thrown a thumbs up at me.

(I thought) why don’t I give a try.

I read it after work when my kids and wife were asleep. The first part of the book was, Low men in Yellow Coat. 

Okay and okay…

Low men in Yellow coat. I am thinking of people working in a green house or a farm and it rain often (all day and all night) and they had to be in yellow coat, oversized mud boots and transparent eyeglass protector.

That’s the first book of him that I read, 

Hearts in Atlantis, 

and that begun of hundreds of unrested night after night after night of reading his stuff. The man is prolific, and he even started writing as early on his childhood.

Some readers just read and said okay after finishing the book, but some put author a special place on their heart. Stephen King sat there along with Tolkien, Hemingway, Michael Crichton, Emily Dickinson, Jose Rizal, Garcia Villa, to mention a few, on mine.

 He did very well and he mastered his craft,  like some kind of an ice cream for a kiddo to stopped stammering from someone who annoy them. .

Everyday I read. I’m not a genius and that  is why I’m doing it. I read book written with flowery words.  They spit those complacent scowl on the crowd and pretending. What they give me, nothing.

They bore me, most of the time. Honestly. They do, a lots of them out there —

and I throw their book on the table and I say really? I love book who are simple, readable and had a sense of humour. Author who made point a great deal for the reader to understand clearly

It’s been 4 years I never saw my friend on that trade book shoppe. I know he was still there buying those books twice a week like we did. Put it on his hand, those books been untouch with the ages, polishing the cover that fade through the back of his palm, pausing, thinking like an emperor of dust on his horn-rim glass, that hunged loosely on his Turkish nose.

 Someday when I’ll decide to stay on my place, and stop to work abroad for good. I’ll unearth again those books and put it on my palm that now covered by dust. Reading and forgetting the world in just a snap of a page —

like goodnight kiss and a goodnight sleep beside my kids and wife, where you could smile with contention.

God, I miss those time.

Those years gone…a pretty nice part from the past, when my family were on the bed and I stayed late at the table pouring some coffee and dissolved like abracadabra from some magic trick, while rain tap gently on the roof and the wind whispers and the chirrups sings uncease.

Right now, I’m blinding myself on ebooks here on my aldiko bookshelf app (a library on my palm) and sometimes listened to audio book. I know how much boredom you spend the night away from your own reading table. Panting on desert heat. Drunk a thousand glass of lemonade. It’s a necessity that I had to self thought myself and to humour my anti-social life.

I am not an intellectual man or pretending like one. I am just a typical man you may bump on the crowded street who flunk my math subjects and don’t give a shit about it. One thing for sure, I treasured those stories that show me about little things that make me smile and it is free.


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