Books

On my trip across America, one of my favorite stops was in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Coming fresh from the streets of New York City, I think I used to say R-Can-Zas, like Kansas with an R in front. Rocks and boulders lay strewn all over the sides of the road. Every so often a huge gaping canyon had been dug into the earth to excavate limestone, sandstone, granite or marble. There was a lot of rock quarrying going on. Some canyons were full of fresh, clear water, looked like small lakes, and were tempting enough to invite summer frolicking under the hot sun. The air is so dry that it will rob the moisture from your skin. Arkansas may be rock country, but it’s not barren of books.

There is an old adage that when a writer writes fiction, everyone thinks it’s true and when a writer writes non-fiction, people think some things were made up. Readers tend to think that writers only write fiction about the things that have happened to them in real life. However, that is not entirely true. Mr. Pamuk’s book brilliantly explores the truth underlying the magic of storytelling.