Caught Red-Handed

I have a secret. I don't tell many people...not because I'm ashamed, but because I don't like having to explain myself. See, I know a lot of people who love to read (as I do), and this particular secret upsets them the most.

I'm a to-the-end-flipper.

That's right. I flip to the end of books and read the last page (or more). And I was caught red-handed, by the author of the very book I was reading.

Let me explain.

First of all, I don't read the end of books before I start the book. I've never really understood that. Reading the end of a story where you don't even know the characters or plot would seem very confusing and pointless to me. So I read about 80-100 pages and then I flip to the end. By that point I already know the characters and I have a sense of where the story is going. When I read the end I either think "YES! I can totally see where this is going!" or "HUH? Wow, I can't wait to see how we get there!"

I can't really tell you exactly why I have this habit, but I think it's mostly curiosity. It's also because I have given up on many of the "rules" of reading (like I mentioned in my post about "reader's independence"), such as feeling like you have to finish every book you start, or that you can only read one book at a time. And I enjoy reading the end of books while I'm in the middle of them, so I just continue to do it.

I don't think that I ever "ruin" the book I'm reading. When my sister gave me the book My Sister's Keeper, she made me promise that I wouldn't flip to the end because there was a big twist and I wouldn't see it coming and it was so good and I would just ruin the whole thing if I flipped to the end. So when we were sitting on the dock later that day and I said "Oh my goodness, that is a crazy ending!" she said "You finished it already?!" and I (sheepishly) said "no...I flipped to the end....". And I swear, it didn't ruin the book for me!

ANYWAY. On to the real reason for this post.......

I was reading Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson (which I recommend) and I flipped to the end. I skimmed the final few pages (it's not a novel, so I was just poking around the end of the book) and I decided to read the "gratitude" section. Imagine my surprise when I read the following:

"Thank you for spinning with me, for sharing in the dizziness, and for making it this far. Assuming, of course, that you got this far through the traditional means and not by villainously flipping to the end first. If you are a to-the-end-flipper, then my thoughts about you are dark and my feelings to not involve gratitude."

AHHHH! The author totally called me out! I am the villainous to-the-end-flipper. I laughed out loud. Since I thought this was hilarious, I started to tell people how the author caught me red-handed for being a to-the-end-flipper while I was to-the-end-flipping, and I've been met with much animosity from my reading-loving friends. People are shocked that I would be a to-the-end-flipper (which is why only my sisters have known of this habit until recently).

So, now you know. Don't hate me. And in order for you to not hate me, I will leave you with a few more of my favorite sections from Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl.

"What is the best of all possible feelings? What is the best of all possible things? The best of all possible creatures? Clearly, the best of all possible feelings is the one that comes when the agony of too much time in the car with an overextended bladder has finally been alleviated. Such sweet relief remains unparalleled."

"[My son] cannot think of a way to express himself, and so he takes out the wallet we gave him to hold ice cream money from his grandmothers. He takes out his dollars and throws them in the grass. "They're not important," he says, and shrugs, blinking. He's right. I help him pick them up. Paper and ink are not important. Wealth is unimportant next to souls. So are legs and fingers, all five senses. So is life. But gratitude is all-important. Everything is a gift. Every smell, every second, every ice cream dollar. Gratitude for the whole story, from beginning to end, gratitude for the valleys and the shadows that lead us to the novel's final page. Take a step and thank God, for He holds you in His hand. Never ask to be put down. Never struggle for separation or for worth apart from His gifts. Breath, taste His world, His words, and marvel that you are here to feel the blowing swirl of life. To be blown by it. Enjoy your ice cream."

"And I move on, with the sun on my face. Clouds are growing in the west, glorious clouds piled up with rowdy care and sparked with electric life. I fill my lungs with the world, with this life, with this gift beyond containing. There is only one thing I can say. Thank you. And I must say it with my life. Through my life. To the end of my life. And after."