Every two or three months, James favorite hobby changes. Now it was literature, so I began reading the paper's culture section to learn about what the author was in vogue. One day, he ran a banner headline announcing that in a month, a famous writer would visit their city, on the occasion of the presentation of his latest novel. This writer, reviews highlighted the simplicity and elegance of his writings. Jacobo smiled, decided to read all their literature, because it had not been a very prolific author, had published only five novels, but all high quality, to the comments of critics. Began to dream of intellectuals attend meetings and participate in their gatherings which scholar, showing others that he was a connoisseur of this author as relevant.
Went to the library next to his house and ordered all the books they had in stock that were born from the mind of that great. However, to their disappointment, they had exhausted all his novels, and possessed only a copy of his autobiography, though he promised that within a week reach volumes requested. James decided to read the reports would give a new face on the reading of the works, a rich interpretation of each sentence. According
turned the pages, James was feeling more and more distress, to see how his dreams fell apart. The writer had been in his childhood a sickly child, in a timid teenager and adult in its day was a hypochondriac, a smug and ... a crook. I could not possibly read any of the works of this monstrosity he said when closing the book.
James was terribly distressed. But since they had invested their time to get to know this to be terrible, came to the meeting dressed in his best suit, accompanied by a round hat and granny glasses she had bought for the occasion, and that gave a true bohemian, and the question time, raised his hand to express, in a solemn manner:
- I hate you.
