I’m not sure why, but since I listened to these paragraphs last week, I’ve come back to them a few times. Sure, Gildart Jackson’s narration was part of it, but I just really liked this. We tend to focus on plot, magic systems, characters, and whatnot–but it’s the little moments like this that really make a book stand out. They don’t advance the plot, they don’t really reveal a lot about the narrator, but they shed a little light–adding flavor to someone we know.

from:

Burned
Burned

by Benedict Jacka
Most people in the world don’t travel much. In a lot of cases, it’s because they just don’t want to. Either they don’t have any real interest in seeing other places, or they’re too occupied with the life they’re living already. But for a lot of people, it’s not a case of not wanting to, it’s that they can’t—either they don’t have the time or the money, or there’s something actively preventing them from leaving. When you’re in that second group, you usually have fantasies about getting to travel and see the world, visiting different cultures and having new experiences. There are people who spend their whole lives dreaming about journeys overseas.

So it’s really kind of sad that once you finally do get to spend a lot of time travelling, you tend not to appreciate it very much. Take me, for instance. I’ve visited more countries of the world than I can easily remember. I’ve even visited places not in this world, from bubble realms to shadow realms to the dreamscapes of Elsewhere. I’ve stood upon the tops of towers and looked out over castles the size of cities, walked through ancient forests where the trees have passed hundreds of years without hearing a human footstep, seen impossible alien landscapes that could never exist on Earth. Unfortunately, in pretty much every one of those cases, I’ve generally had more pressing concerns to worry about either there are people trying to kill me, or people who might want to kill me, or things that aren’t people that might want to kill me, or people or things that don’t necessarily want to kill me but nevertheless are important enough that it’s highly advisable for me to pay attention to them instead of spending my time sightseeing. Usually the place I’m visiting becomes a blur, a few brief images standing out in my memory while I spend my time dealing with various threats and problems. And by the time they’re all sorted out, it’s time to move on.