High Fantasy
I boarded the plane on yet another trip to California. I sat down on the Southwest flight in my window seat that I obtained only because I frantically checked in exactly 24 hours prior to the flight to ensure a good boarding number, and got out my Kindle ready to read. Had this been a Delta flight I would have looked forward to watching movies and tv on the cross country trek with a window seat already secured, but it's Southwest. You have the option to watch live TV which consists of ABC Family, the network that takes a 2 hour movie and spreads it out into an all day event, HGTV which consists soley of marathons of Love it or List it or the Property Brothers, then various news shows where you can watch America fall further into decay as presumably Donald tweets out Hitler art then calls his former prostitute a horse. That just makes you a horse-fucker you moron. If those channels don't get you then you have a few versions of ESPN where you can watch real time development of CTE. On Southwest you may not have change fees, but when you check in determines when you board and pick your seat out on the plane. I've sat middle many times. I managed this time to get spot A-53, meaning I should be the 53rd person on the plane. But again it's Southwest. They allow families with young children and people who need extra time to go first. In essence this is lovely. You allow families to presumably all plot down together in one row and of course people who aren't as physically able to not be ushered in with the rest of the herd. On this flight there was one boy in a wheelchair who clearly had a dire physical condition and his mother seemed to be attending to him quite well. The rest of the wheelchair bound individuals were 100% physically capable to stand up and walk at any pace down the jet-bridge. I was somewhat amazed by their sense of entitlement to be sat eating Chex-Mix with their rollerboard bag, feet wiggling freely in the wheelchair waiting special treatment next to a kid who clearly will never feed himself much less walk on his own.
After witnessing ten miracles of people arising from their wheelchairs and making it to their seats and one awesome mother assisting her son it was my time to settle in the plane. I got window, a woman picked the aisle, then she immediately invited a man to sit next to her. I don't know if it was flirting or what, but she chose him to sit in between us. He was small thankfully, but being a man who seemingly needed to assert himself in his space, he puffed up like an adder snake. This man was no taller than me and immediately did his best to make his knees touch the seat in front of him and starfish his arms out. The result was his butt on the very edge of his seat he slumped down and flopped his legs to the side ready to sleep. I imagine he has lived his life like Kevin Hart but views himself more as the Rock.
After seeing Love it or List it was on for the next three hours, I turned on my phone and began reading my new book. I have been on a fantasy kick lately and began a new author who is highly recommended. I went to his website, followed his guide of which book to pick, and bought it. I read the first few paragraphs and was intrigued. The genre was 'high fantasy.' I just finished a book about a man who can control the wind and other earthly elements by learning their names so he can avenge his parents who were killed by cursed immortals, and another book where a girl grows up to be a witch and joins forces with Russian nature spirits. Fantasy. I assumed high fantasy would be similar. After a few pages with names that could only have been created by a cat walking across a keyboard I began to realize I am not ready for high fantasy. Parshindi Szeth (can I just call him Seth) runs down the hall towards Galvilar with his Shardbearer that he may have inhereted from Tahn where Jezrien ditched the Oathpact with Kalak after realizing Talenel may have died. Next thing you know its a new chapter an Cenn is being told by his dad Dallan that he got picked for Kaladins Stormblessed. Not to be confused with Kalak of course.
If that last sentence seemed like an exaggeration it is not. This is taken from the first line of Wikipedia about this book "The story rotates between the points of view of Kaladin, Shallan Davar, Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Dalinar Kholin, and several other minor characters, who lead seemingly unconnected lives." Page 24. I made it to page 24 of 1124 pages. I realized high fantasy means you need a freaking notebook, paper copy of the book for highlighting, ancient weaponry and armor dictionary, cartographer, and patience that I just don't have to read these books.
I closed my Kindle app and looked at the Southwest tv website, took a Dramamine, and tried to sleep. High fantasy I learned takes place in a fully magical world with entirely different laws and beings like Star Wars. Low fantasy is a world at least relatively familiar with magical elements intruded within it, like Harry Potter. After watching the depressing news and being in California, a state where gas stations have no space whatsoever to drive through so if there is a car parked getting gas and there are open pumps in front of them, there is no way for you to get to them and you just have to wait while the man goes to the convenience store, smokes a cigarette, makes out with his child bride who looks 12 to his 34, while you stare daggers at him hoping he will drive the eff forward I decided maybe I am meant for high fantasy. I'd rather read about GazorpGazorp running through the fields of Latharian-el-elastraya with his plant based ghost sword of valor after all.
After witnessing ten miracles of people arising from their wheelchairs and making it to their seats and one awesome mother assisting her son it was my time to settle in the plane. I got window, a woman picked the aisle, then she immediately invited a man to sit next to her. I don't know if it was flirting or what, but she chose him to sit in between us. He was small thankfully, but being a man who seemingly needed to assert himself in his space, he puffed up like an adder snake. This man was no taller than me and immediately did his best to make his knees touch the seat in front of him and starfish his arms out. The result was his butt on the very edge of his seat he slumped down and flopped his legs to the side ready to sleep. I imagine he has lived his life like Kevin Hart but views himself more as the Rock.
After seeing Love it or List it was on for the next three hours, I turned on my phone and began reading my new book. I have been on a fantasy kick lately and began a new author who is highly recommended. I went to his website, followed his guide of which book to pick, and bought it. I read the first few paragraphs and was intrigued. The genre was 'high fantasy.' I just finished a book about a man who can control the wind and other earthly elements by learning their names so he can avenge his parents who were killed by cursed immortals, and another book where a girl grows up to be a witch and joins forces with Russian nature spirits. Fantasy. I assumed high fantasy would be similar. After a few pages with names that could only have been created by a cat walking across a keyboard I began to realize I am not ready for high fantasy. Parshindi Szeth (can I just call him Seth) runs down the hall towards Galvilar with his Shardbearer that he may have inhereted from Tahn where Jezrien ditched the Oathpact with Kalak after realizing Talenel may have died. Next thing you know its a new chapter an Cenn is being told by his dad Dallan that he got picked for Kaladins Stormblessed. Not to be confused with Kalak of course.
If that last sentence seemed like an exaggeration it is not. This is taken from the first line of Wikipedia about this book "The story rotates between the points of view of Kaladin, Shallan Davar, Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Dalinar Kholin, and several other minor characters, who lead seemingly unconnected lives." Page 24. I made it to page 24 of 1124 pages. I realized high fantasy means you need a freaking notebook, paper copy of the book for highlighting, ancient weaponry and armor dictionary, cartographer, and patience that I just don't have to read these books.
I closed my Kindle app and looked at the Southwest tv website, took a Dramamine, and tried to sleep. High fantasy I learned takes place in a fully magical world with entirely different laws and beings like Star Wars. Low fantasy is a world at least relatively familiar with magical elements intruded within it, like Harry Potter. After watching the depressing news and being in California, a state where gas stations have no space whatsoever to drive through so if there is a car parked getting gas and there are open pumps in front of them, there is no way for you to get to them and you just have to wait while the man goes to the convenience store, smokes a cigarette, makes out with his child bride who looks 12 to his 34, while you stare daggers at him hoping he will drive the eff forward I decided maybe I am meant for high fantasy. I'd rather read about GazorpGazorp running through the fields of Latharian-el-elastraya with his plant based ghost sword of valor after all.
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