You Gotta Read It

It’s no secret I spend a lot of my time reading. Reading, I find, is a lot like checking the mail. A lot of junk, a goodly number of bills (why’d I spend money on that?), a few surprises, and, once in a cold blue moon, an honest-to-god, whowouldathunkit winning lottery ticket. I don’t say much about most of what I read, but when I come across that rare winner, the action I find most appropriate is to stack up milk crates on the busiest corner in town and scream and shout at every person who passes that they must, they absolutely must read this book (following which they would get head-tagged with whatever literary miracle I’m peddling).

Suggesting books for others to read is a delicate art. People are constantly asking me what to read, as if I walk around with a list of Everybody-Must-Read-This books (actually, I do, but that’s not the point). Each reader is unique, and generally I must spend a lot of time discerning a person’s particular tastes. I prefer to suggest something I’m certain they will like before handing them something I loved but which may not be their, as they say, cup of tea.

However, some books leap across boundaries. They fit right in with every crowd. They nestle into every soul, regardless of background, belief system, economic situation. These books are rare, but when I find them…well, I go looking for milk crates.

So I’m standing in the library the other day, perusing the shelves (yeah, I know, hard to believe, right?) and I fingered out a colorful spine I’d not seen before. A new book called Absolute Brightness by a man James Lecesne. The flap is intriguing, and I decide to give it the Test.

The Test:

Open to page one, begin reading.

If not interested by first paragraph, back on the shelf (the Test is particularly brutal for those books which open with one-line first paragraphs). If first paragraph suffices, keep reading.

If find suddenly losing track of the time, pages flipping by, book goes home.

I hate to admit it, but it is extremely rare these days for a book to pass all stages of the Test.

Absolute Brightness was one of those surprises. I was on page 8 before I even knew I was reading. The voice, fluid and immediate, was lively, entertaining and brutally honest. Like a well-trained band the narrative marched straight forward, never hesitating, never detouring, never shocking you out of the story. It captivated you, this narrator, held you steady, made you forget there were things to do in your life, appointments to keep, jobs to go to, beds to sleep in. What did it matter? There was a story being told here. A damn good one.

I want to tell you about this book, but there’s one problem. I don’t want you to have any preconceived notions about it either, because this is a special kind of book, and special kinds of books have a way of turning away folks with preconceived notions.

So here’s what I want you to do. Go to your local bookstore or library. Ask for Absolute Brightness by James Lecesne. I don’t know where you’ll find it, but it’s possible it will be in the young adult section. Don’t let that fool you. When you get it in your hands, don’t ponder the cover or read the back flap. In fact, tear the cover off (perhaps do this away from bookstore clerks and librarians). Crack it open to page one and start reading. Read the first chapter.

Stop.

If you feel I’m wrong, then so be it. Put it back (put the cover back on first). But if you think I’m right, or if you suddenly feel like nothing else in your life is important until you finish this book, then keep reading.

Buy it. Steal it. But damnit, read it.

You’ll thank me.

Promise.