Imperfect

My heart, it keens.

While on vacation with Danica in early August, I picked up The Book of Speculation on a whim. The book promised me mystery, circuses, mermaids and libraries, and the price was right, so I grabbed it, and… well, it wasn’t perfect. But holy shit, was it perfect for me.

The main thrust of the story concerns itself with a young man holding onto the past while the world begs for him to get the fuck on with things. As his life begins to crumble around him in both literal and figurative ways, he is given countless opportunities for change. He instead tries to let things wash over and away. Interwoven in this narrative is the idea of a curse or a coincidence that plagues a family. It’s a story about letting go of the things that hurt you, and loving the potential of what can be. It is also clunky and unsubtle as hell in such a way that made it beautiful.

Everyone is so god damn concerned with perfection these days. Things that are air tight, that exist without fault, platonic ideals manifest in prose or film or paper or whatever. This book… this book isn’t a classic. It has flaws and in this case, flaws built perfectly for me. The lilt of the prose slowly sunk its hooks into my skin. The story itself built in my guts and helped me transition into sleep and dream on many nights in the best of ways. It has a heart and it beats, and it filled me up for two weeks or so.

I loved it.

Have you ever had a book that did this to you? Or a TV show, or comic or anything? Has anything walked up to you at the perfect time, flawed though it might be, and spoke to you quite directly? Let us know. The comments are open, and we’re all over social media. I’m interested in hearing what you have to say.