This week I’ve been reading a book by a rabid gun nut (his words not mine… well, his words AND mine), Monster Hunters International by Larry Correia, and I realized something: While I don’t give a crap about guns, I certainly don’t care about the details of guns. Don’t care how many magazines a handgun holds (Us weekly or Time), the type of sights, the stock, the bore, the finish, the oil, whatever – it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me. If he had only said it was a damn big gun I would have gone along with it anyway.

But there is something to be said for passion. The fact that I glaze over those details is immaterial in that I don’t need to know those details but I do need to know that the character and the writer knows those details. The more the character gushes over his new gun, the more the writer clearly enjoys writing about the new gun, the more passion he exhibits the more sense it makes to me.

It tells me that the character exists in a certain way, that he understands the business he’s in (shootin’ stuff), that he enjoys his work and has a meticulous and detailed mind.

In the end those details are important and I say the more details the better.

But I’m still going to skim right over them.

I’m a bit of a bastard that way.