Viva the Hobbit!

Lately, I've had occasion to revisit The Hobbit. Yes, that hobbit. Tolkein's creation whose story serves as the precursor to the classic, now moviefied Lord of the Rings. I read The Hobbit years ago when I was busy devouring many of the classics and I hadn't given it much thought over the years at all. Didn't love it, didn't hate it.

But this year, my 13-year-old son's summer reading list included The Hobbit and for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being it was August and he had yet to pick it up, we decided to read it together.

Throughout June and July, I noted that among the boy's friends who have "friended" me on Facebook, a few were already reading and pretty much hating on the poor little hobbit. I saw him referred to as the stupid hobbit, the freaking hobbit and in one case, that I hope was caught by a parent, that f****ing hobbit. One girl wrote that she was three chapters into the book and had no idea what was going on. Really???!!!

The boy, a fabulous person, is not a tremendous reader. He can read, comprehend, even enjoy a book, but will not pick one up without the proverbial gun to his head. I am the exact opposite and will not put my books down unless I'm under the gun myself.

It was tough at first. We realized early on as we alternated the reading, that as easily as the words rolled off my tongue, they stumbled, fell and staggered off his. For both of our sanity, we settled into a pattern of 10 pages narrated by him to every 25 of mine. But I knew we were on to a good thing when I closed the book after the chapter where the hobbit faces down the trolls and the boy, smiling and eyes alive, teen-age apathy momentarily forgotten, blurted out--"that was a great scene." He got it--humor, visuals and all.

And it was a great scene. It's a great story. I had forgotten or never fully realized how good and funny it is. The emphasis on turn of phrase and nuances of behavior fully delivers. For me, this shared episode reawakened the excitement I get whenever I read great writing. The boy couldn't help but respond to the quality of the literature. I'm glad I didn't leave him on his own to experience it as drudgery and despise the little hobbit like the other kids did. Over at the Middle School year, the God-forsaken Hobbit is sure to be much maligned. But, he'll also have at least one big fan--whether or not that fan chooses to admit it.

To Blog or not to Blog . . . . . .

That is the question. With me, the desire to write, ruminate, natter on, even, is there. But in lock-step with that desire is the nagging idea that to do so is rather self-indulgent and any resulting prose will be tedious drivel to the reader. That said, I like a lot of other people's blogs and wonder if I may not be judging myself a tad more harshly than I do others.

For a long time, I've struggled over subject matter. What perspective can I bring to blogging that will make my musings engaging and fresh. Should I do a mommy blog, a writer blog, a reader's blog, a decorating blog? Should my focus be my experiences as a lung transplantee, a step-mother, a traveler? How about a political blog? God knows I have enough to say on that topic! The possibilities seem, and as the blogosphere demonstrates, are in fact, endless.

So I've delved into the vast and varied world of blogging and have determined which blogs I like best as a reader. Here's what I find. I like blogs that are funny, but not trying too hard to be funny. I prefer bloggers who write on a range of subjects rather than sticking to one theme. I enjoy posts that feel fresh, honest and authentic. I can take pointed, but I don't like preachy.

I've settled on a series of slice-of-life snippets from a 40-something, writer, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, patient, and dog benefactor (I hate the word "owner"). It will be all of the aforementioned blogs and then some. It will be my take on experiences that I hope broadly relate to my reader's world. In the scheme of things, despite all the disunity we perceive in the world around us, we are far more similar to one another than we are different. I hope to find and strike those chords.