Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald

I finished Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler. I thought it was very interesting. When I first learned of Zelda, I thought she was a bubbly, social, entertaining and happy woman who didn't care what others thought of her, and though the author might not have depicted Zelda exactly, she colors her a softer, more motherly, caring, emotional woman than originally thought. I also thought in the beginning of the book that I somewhat related to her, and how she imagined life would be. By the end though, she is so depressed and unhappy, and the author shows how one can become that way. All in all, a good book that is so utterly depressing.

While reading this, I have felt a lot of things. Mostly, though, is that always searching for success and never feeling that you've achieved that goal is the worst way to live, and a one way ticket to unhappiness.

Another thought occurred to me. Have you ever felt while reading some book like it is down pouring outside in the middle of autumn. Or it's lightly snowing the week of Christmas and you're holding a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows? During this book, it felt like seasons that weren't actually happening, it was weird.

Isn't it so sad to think of a person a certain way, think that they are genuinely good, then see or read something and feel so utterly wrong? That's what I find to be so annoying. I see a movie about someone or read a book about someone, believing they are one thing amazing, and it turns out that they weren't all that incredible. So disappointing. I just wish there were people who you believe to be good, and are genuinely good. Yes, I know there are a lot of those people, I just wish I could find more, and actually have accurate first impressions.

Well, sorry for this somewhat saddening post today.
Lets hope for happier days and sunshine throughout!
Mercedes