For several days on this blog, I talked about my progress reading Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa, Or, The History of a Young Lady as if I was some sort of explorer on an expedition to uncharted regions. Real age of exploration sort of stuff. You may wonder why I did that instead of posting about my real progress reading the book.
For anyone who missed it and actually wants to see this, here is a link to the initial progress report, a link to the first full day’s progress report, a link to the second full day’s progress report, a link to the third full day’s progress report, a link to the fourth full day’s progress report, a link to the fifth’s full day’s progress report, and a link to the final progress report.
Well, there is a very simple answer. Me talking about reading Clarissa while reading it would probably have bored all of you more than you all actually having to read Clarissa for yourselves. Let’s just take a look at what my real posts would have looked like if I hadn’t started screwing around:
See? Until I got done and wrote my review, there just wasn’t much to really talk about. It would have been boring. As such, it was a far better thing to make a bunch of shit up. Frankly, it helped me get through the book.