All seems right, you know? (Famous last words, egads). Winter TV is gut again - Revenge and Nashville are back on, Brooklyn Nine-Nine fills in for the chortle quota of the week, My Little Pony FIM new series and writing is going along with a precise efficiency. (Aside - that's another great thing about living in your own place: complete monopolistic control of TV viewing. I never have to be assaulted with the grey and dreary tele-visual style of the 80s that still dominates British soaps such as Eastenders et al. US TV looks so pretty, y'all). Of course, I'm not really reading though.
Does anyone else get that? The more they write, the less they read and then vice-versa? So that reading becomes what I do in those respites between prose-penning. Usually reading also helps me to get fired up about writing again but if I'm already fired up, reading doesn't have that much significance.
Gosh, that doesn't sound good, even for a bookworm like meself - that I view reading as a kind of plug, a dependency to inspire and ignite again. I use reading. Then I acrimoniously push her aside when I'm engaged to writing. And then when cleaning my room I notice the pile of 'books yet to be read' and a pang of guilt sweeps over me. Reading knows and she sits there, staring...
But seriously, my commute is not long enough to get into a book, you guys!
**FUN FACT**: The Japanese have a word for this unread pile of books - tsundoku. (n.) the act of buying books and not reading them and/or letting books pile up unread on shelves or floors or nightstands.
|'Needle in the Blood' was some random book my boss gave as a gift to|
my colleague who insisted it wasn't 'her thing.' I doubt it's mine either...
I think my next posts will all about 'fave' moments from books and perhaps TV shows. I happened to r-read quite a bit of Potter over the Christmas period and I forgot how funny it can be. A laugh a minute...! Oh, J.K...!