If I’ve discovered anything about myself in college, it’s that I honestly and truly love research. I suppose if I think about it, it’s really not that surprising, seeing as how I have always been in love with reading any and every thing I get my grubby little hands on, but it’s almost always been fiction. Research is all about non-fiction (or, it should be…). College has taught me that nonfiction can sometimes be as fun as fiction – the truth is stranger than fiction and all that jazz.
I’ve also discovered that I’m really good at coming up with research ideas/questions to explore that a) morph into questions concerning human identity and what is means to be human and so on and so forth and thus b) have no definite answers. Which also means that all of my papers end up influencing each other and giving me new perspectives on / problematic interpretations of the question at hand. Fun times.
But that’s not the problem I speak of in the title of this post.
The problem that prompts the post (alliteration FTW!) is the tangential books one finds in the library when doing research.
I am currently writing a paper for my children’s literature English senior seminar about daemons in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and Animagi and Patronuses in J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. Thus, I went looking for books on metamorphosis…
…and found a book on grimoires!
Seriously! How awesome is that!?
(And yes, I do get tween-fan-girl-giddy about books)
Back on topic: does anyone else have this issue? That sometimes the books one finds tangentially are at least as interesting or even *gasp!* more interesting than the topic one is supposed to be researching?
Hmmm… Perhaps this explains my groaning bookshelves and overflowing blog reader…