I found this book in 11th grade when I was required to select from a long list a book by an American author. I can remember the exact setting in which I finished reading this book. And let me tell you, it is heartwrenching. Absolutely devastating.
I have read many books, and I have cried many times. But for some reason, this book was different. For some reason, this book hit a spot that no other book had. I must have finished it during a study hall I was spending in the Commons or a lunch period, because I remember walking from the Commons up to Reim Hall in a daze. Shannon was walking with me, and I simply recall babbling on to her about how beautifully tragic the story was... how much I loved it... how deeply it touched me... and how at this moment I knew, that whatever I did in my life, I wanted in some way to affect others. Just like that book had affected me, I wanted to affect others. I remember saying that I wanted to make others feel things. Feel emotions! Whether good or bad, I didn't even care. I just had to impact others. I knew I sounded like a complete hopeless and ridiculous mess, but I didn't care. I wasn't ashamed.
Even now, years later, I can still feel what I felt on that day with perfect clarity. And so, when I picked up an old used copy of The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by Steinbeck that Saturday morning, I knew I had to take it home with me. I felt I owed it at least that much. Every time I think about my future, about what I could possibly do in my life, I remember that book, and the way I felt when I finished it.
How's that for over-dramatic?
