When I finished "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle, I was all gung-ho to run out and buy some other spiritual book to feed my frenzy of this genre of book I seem to be enjoying lately. Before I could, however, Richie pulled "Big Sur" by Jack Kerouac out of the closet and said, "how about this one?" I was extremely apprehensive at first since I normally don't get too in to the biographical or autobiographical novels. But, to my surprise, my eyes were glued to the pages as often as humanly possible for about 3-4 days until every last juicy word was consumed. Kerouac is quite possibly my favorite author now. Maybe that's pretty intense, but seriously, I've never read anything as perfectly laid out introducing layer after layer of an unfolding story of his going insane. His descriptions of his thoughts about mortality and God evolve in a beautifully poetic rendition of a couple months spent in Big Sur. I will have more essays on this book in comparisons to other works, etc. later. For now, wow, now I'm off to buy "On the Road" by Kerouac. I'm addicted. I relate to him. Kerouac is extremely spiritual and he completely satisfies that craving in me.