Returning to the Tower IV.A: I do not aim with my hand

So I finished Wizard and Glass weeks ago, but I didn't even write an in progress post on what met my expectations or seemed memorable. That would be because of my hand.

I'm turning 50 this year, and the funny thing about these later ages in life is that they have a way of hitting you early if they don't hit you just on time.

I was at a friend's 50th birthday celebration, and it happened to include bowling.

Now, I've been a bowler in the past. I own my own ball actually, and made the mistake of getting a hook ball when I spent my bowling league points at the pro shop. When I went to bowl for my friend's birthday, I brought that beautfiul green 13 lb hook ball. On my way south on the highway, I even found myself contemplating buying a Midworld Lanes patch for my bowling ball bag.

That afternoon, and arguably well in advance, I decided to warm up with a 12 lb lane ball.

That, my friends, was a profound mistake. It was probably an especially stupid thing to do while reading this book, because these spheres we cast have a personality, do ya ken?

It's all to say that I badly damaged my right ring finger on that lane ball, and suddenly, on the cusp of 50, I developed a whole new perspective on Roland's relationship with his mutilated right hand.

I was certainly not a magically gifted gunslinger to begin with, but I am a pianist, a keyboardist, and otherwise a person who is used to their hands being one of, if not their strongest, capabilities as a manifest being. I was left reflecting back on that scene in The Wastelands where Roland is climbing a ladder, and it weirdly felt relatable. I went to the gym (when I probably shouldn't have) and made sure I was isolating that finger to lift, and every time I did it I thought of that scene. It's an odd moment, because it made me think about how any of us would be able to climb a ladder with half a hand if we had to.

More importantly, I do not aim with my hand, and I do not shoot with it. I shoot with my mind, whether those are the words on the page or the notes in the air, I shoot with my mind.

Sai King teaches me anew on this reading, as I enter the heart of my own middle age. King was 50 when Wizard and Glass dropped. I have many more thoughts about this book, but for now it's sufficient to say that my second read of the fourth book left me with a different perspective even if my younger self is absolutely right in that this is a slow ass book, and a rough transition after the wild ride that is The Wastelends.