As much as I love to read, I have begun to obsess about long chapters. I don’t like them. And I don’t know why.
Reading, to me, is both the desire to never have the story end, to not lose the characters you have invested time and interest in, and also the need to get to the last page to find out what happens. I want to savor the delicious meal but I always look forward to dessert. Lately, some of the courses, yet tasty and filling, seem to go on forever.
It is a mystery, ironically a genre I do not read, a newly developed tic with no origin and no The End in sight. It sounds like the front flap summary of this summer’s hottest beach read. Each chapter would be just one page, of course. In other words, it’d be a blog.
Oh. Mystery solved.
