"Levy, Robert J - Jack Stacey ASBR" - читать интересную книгу автора (Levy Robert J)

"It's not as simple as it sounds," I began. "The first thing is to admit you're
suffering from reader's block. You've already taken that step. But now I'll need
to learn what makes your literary clock tick, what sort of prose style quickens
your pulse, what kind of plot twists give you cold sweats. Finally, I'll write
you a list. My selections may seem odd, even perverse. You may say, He doesn't
understand my whole literary gestalt, I'm going to hate these books. But you
have to put yourself completely in my hands. And even then, there's still no
guarantee."

I paused. "Are you ready to do all that?"

There was a moment of indecision as she rolled her unread copy of The New York
Review of Books into an even tighter tube.

"Yes," she said. "I'm desperate."

I discovered my unique talent early on. A precocious kid, I always had my nose
in print. Anything at all. Dictionaries. Encyclopedias. Comics. Recipes. Laundry
tickets. Ingredients lists on cereal boxes. I loved words. I ate them for
breakfast, lunch and dinner. But it wasn't just that.

I remember the first glimmer of it in the school yard behind P.S. 220. Mikey
Warshawer was sitting near the swings, looking pretty hangdog. So I asked him,
What gives? Mikey coughed up the whole story. Seemed he couldn't find any comics
to read. Said he would open up a Superman or Green Lantern and nothing happened.
He wasn't being transported outside of himself. No magic. Zero. Zip. Nada.

Now I'd known Mikey through three grades. He was a good sort, a little prone to
mischief, but with a notion of the transcendent and a sensitivity to the great
themes. Life. Death. The ultimate meaning of it all.

"Mikey," I said to him, "Ever try reading the Dr. Strange comics?"

He looked up at me, suddenly interested, new life in his expression. "Any good?"

"Well, "I said, "They're not everyone's cup of tea, but I think you'll really go
for the unique melding of stylized adventure and occult symbolism."

And I was right. I've always been right. It's-- for want of a better word-- my
genius. I can size up a person and immediately know what they'll love to read.

Sounds wonderful, right? A great way to win friends and influence people? Sure,
but it's also a way to alienate folks. It frightens them, the second sight.
Maybe they accept you for awhile, but soon they start to act kind of prickly
when you're around. They feel like you're reading their minds. And the thing is,
you are.

I lost some buddies this way in my youth. Gus "Great Books" Wolinsky got so
frustrated with my unerring ability to choose volumes he loved that he purposely
began reading novels I assured him he would hate. The last time I saw him he was