Certain things just set me off. I don't know exactly what to do about it, because even when I can recognize the source, and objectively sit back and say - "This is why you feel this way, don't let it get to you." - my emotion still has near complete control over me. I find I can't get work done, I don't act like myself. Of course, I write more when I'm in a mood like this, so maybe its not all bad. Anyway, I started reading Captain Alatriste, Jack, and, though at first I wasn't too impressed because the writing itself wasn't anything special, I'm starting to get hooked now. To be fair, it could easily be the translation that makes the writing flat occasionally, but actually the more I get into it the more I like the simplicity of it. There are some noble, deep, strong, human sentiments expressed very directly - I've come to appreciate raw writing more than I used to. Its great if one can get both into a novel (see Dostoevsky) but if you have to choose, clarity is better than cleverness. I especially liked this bit:
"'We have no choice but to fight,' the poet added after a few seconds. His tone was pensive, as if for himself only; one eye was swimming in wine, and the other had gone down for the last time. Alatriste, still holding his friend's arm and bending over the table, smiled with affectionate sadness. 'Against whom, don Francisco?' The captain seemed almost not to expect an answer. Quevedo raised a finger. His eyeglasses had slipped from his nose and were dangling from their cord, nearly dipping into his wine. 'Against stupidity, evil, supersition, envy, and ignorance,' he enunciated slowly, and as he spoke, he appeared to regard his reflection on the surface of the liquid. 'Which is to say, against all Spain. Against everything.'"
All any writer can really ask for is a chance for a few good lines like those. They struck a chord with me at least.
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