Everything is going well. I’m still excited about reading these books even though very few have them have been worth my time. I like having to read out of my comfort zone and I’m sure a few of these will be brilliant. I have read and written a couple of blogs that I haven’t posted yet on books that I was surprised to find decent reads, but I won’t be posting them until there book comes along in the order. I have fallen behind in posting because it took me a long time to get Gone (Number 96), but I now have it. Another problem I am going to face is that school starts next week, so my reading will slow down quite a bit, but I will try to get a book done every few weeks.
There are times when I think that maybe I am being too critical toward certain books, but then I pick up a book and the narration flows perfectly and the story falls into place before I’m even aware that I should be critical it reasserts my view of books and expectations. Its times like that that I know there are authors out there that are worth my time. I know that I am kind of being an ass about it, but it takes several hours to read a book. at least a two days, or even a week in some cases if it is the only thing that I am doing. It is different from a movie that is only a couple of hours and even if it isn’t perfect, it can still be fun. But, for a book to be worth my time it needs to be 90 percent amazing and 10 percent good, all of it; the writing, the story, the creativity, the characters, the dialogue. I have to be blown away, and I don’t think that is asking for too much.
As far as my own writing, I’m still not doing it, but I am craving it (which is the goal). It feels good to brainstorm and think of stories and dialogue and possible situations all of the time and with no expectations. Though, ideas were never my problem, it was mainly me just giving a shit. I got to the point where I would sit down and write and just not give a shit about what I was doing. I have four different novels that I would like to write and I have worked on all of them over the last few years, and I was to the point with each of them where I didn’t know if they were good anymore. I forgot what I was doing. I didn’t think they were worth it. With distance, my view of those stories have clarified what I want from those stories, but I am still not going to write. No yet. I am going to concentrate on school and keep from stressing myself out. I am confident that my love for writing will return to me. I was concerned there for a while that I would never write again. I thought that it was just another thing that I tried and failed and would never pick up again.
I’m not sure how much my reading will slow down, because I’ve switched graduate schools so I’m not sure how easily I’ll pick up the new material. It should be easier than what I was doing, but it is graduate school, so it should still take up quite a bit of my time.