More, more, more.

     It was just a few years ago that I first encountered her writing.  At the time the name Oates meant nothing to me,  but now, now it holds the promise of delicious depravity, mesmerizing malice, heart-wrenching honesty.  She reveals the true nature of men, the hidden thoughts that are told to no one. 

     I knew none of this that day, browsing my favorite bookstore with a hunger that had nothing to do with my stomach.  I was searching for something.  Undefined, but I would know it when I found it.  I needed something beyond the common drivel I sometimes cowered behind.

     I combed through Fiction, looking for something to fill my shriveling intellect.

     The title drew my attention:  BEASTS roared at me in fierce red script.  I took it gingerly from the shelf, held the small black book in my hands as if it would bite.  I opened to a random page somewhere in the middle, read a few paragraphs.  Became entranced.  I wanted this book, I felt a need for this book, I craved it.  But I was jobless and had little money.  Jobless, with books as my only solace.  Yes, I thought, I need this book. 

     I checked the back of the book-- less than ten dollars! There was no question now, this book would be leaving with me.  

     I devoured BEASTS and have since gone back for more, more, more.  I added others to my bookshelf:  Black Girl White Girl; Faithless; The Falls; The Female of the Species; Foxfire; i am no one you know; Middle Age; Missing Mom; Sexy; We Were the Mulvaneys.  Lying next me to me, read and used, is Little Bird of Heaven.  These have not satisfied me. On my long "to read" list are more titles:  The Gravedigger's Daughter; Blonde; Rape: A Love Story.  More, more, more.




Have a favorite Oates novel?  Drop me a line at crackingspines@hotmail.com