The Call of the Wild

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I have great memories of the books we read, as a class, back in high school.

The Yearling

The Outsiders

The Catcher in the Rye

To Kill a Mockingbird.

The Call of the Wild.

Of Mice & Men

Well, a strange thing has happened because I recall being blown away and loving all of the stories mentioned above.

Over the last couple of years, I’ve read each one again, and it’s saddened me to realize that they didn’t have the same impact.

Other than ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ and ‘Of Mice & Men’ I found them to be disappointing.

It took me just two nights to read ‘The Call of the Wild’. I was excited to start it, remembering it as non-stop drama. Jack London was an author that I thought a lot of…

…mainly based on the memory of that story.

As a writer, I was disappointed.

I found the transitions clunky, the language elementary, and the descriptions lacking.

“You have the nerve to criticize Jack London?” I thought, but I said what I said!

I felt the same after rereading ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and ‘The Outsiders’.

Then I recalled that they were written for young adults…

…I’m now an oldish man.

Yet, I’m glad I have reread each.

Kathy mentioned the other day:

“You have to get rid of some books! They’re everywhere.”

And I thought about it for about 6 seconds.

“They’re staying,” I said.

“Why?”

“I may read them again.”

She knew the argument was lost. She just laughed.

I looked at them stacked up.

“Maybe I can donate a couple,” I thought.

But I don’t wanna’

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