I read far, far more than I blog about it.
If you follow my Goodreads profile, you’ll know that I’ve read 44 books this year and I’m in the middle of a few more. And I’ve blogged about perhaps 4 books on the site. Last year, I cleared 95 and blogged about perhaps 10 of them, if that.
On the bright side, I guess I’m doing better this year.
I’m apparently terrible about actually keeping this up to date. It’s a weird tangle of events that lead to this, I think.
One, I’m terrible – terrible – about keeping a journal or notebook in which to keep track of my thoughts and book quotes. I tend to read when and wherever I can find the time. I’m often reading during lunch at work. Last year, I carried about a book journal and I was determined to take notes on every single book I read. That lasted for about perhaps 3 months.
Secondly, I read a lot of literary fiction and classics and it seems that people just don’t get excited about reviews of those things like they do for YA. But perhaps that doesn’t matter. My enjoyment of YA seems to be waning, for the most part, and the classics and literary fiction are seriously my wheelhouse.
Also, there’s a general malaise which sets in and affects me. I’ve mentioned before that I suffer from depression. I also suffer from anxiety and a personality disorder. It’s difficult, at times, to get things done – even if I may actually really want to get it done – as the energy simply isn’t there. When it’s there, there’s typically also a healthy dose of doubt. This is one of the reasons I have yet to finish my novel and why I have about 5 screenplays in various stages of completion. The lack of energy makes everything super difficult to complete – basically, it takes all I have to get out of bed and go to work each morning.
But I want to do this. I don’t really have a lot of joy in my life – there’s that depression! – and books and reading a few of those things that give me joy. I want to talk about books; I want to share my love of them with others. I’m want to do better about updating this – I have to do better. I’ll be better.
It’s been years since Suzanne Collins’ “The Hunger Games” trilogy ended. As such, it’s been a while since the final book, “Mockingjay”, was released.
If I remember correctly, upon it’s release, “Mockingjay” received a fairly mixed reception. Many hardcore fans felt nothing but hatred and disdain for the book, along with a healthy dose of anger at Collins for writing what she did. ‘She’d let them down’, they’d say. I recall people saying that the book read as though it Collins simply threw it together, simply to be done with the behemoth with had eaten her life. Many people said that Katniss was no longer a badass heroine.
My feelings differ. Continue reading
So, I applied for an MFA program at Hollins University and was rejected.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.
It’s obviously a bummer, of course – because who likes to be rejected? – but I’m not over here rending my garments over the decision either.
When I received the news, I was out having an early dinner with my mother and little brother. I checked my email as I’m wont to do and found an email from the university. I opened it and read it and thought, “Oh, okay.”
That’s essentially it.
That’s really about all I can say at this point, honestly. I never meant to be so silent for so long, but that’s what happened because life likes to be difficult.
I’ve been in the process of job hunting, which is never, ever fun and always, always a pain. Then I took on NaNoWriMo for the first time (and no, I didn’t win. More on this at a later date). The holidays came along and ate my life as well, so here we are.
As 2016 kicks off, I’ve made a promise to myself to be far better about actually been active here and writing. After all, if I want people to read my blog, I should probably give them something to read, right?
So, I’m doing that. I’m gonna keep on keeping on.
Shortly (in a few days, perhaps?), there will be a post on books that need a second read before you actually like them. I’m working on a few other things as well – a post about a book I’d been avoiding for years but finally read and also a review of Katarina Bivald’s The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend, which I finished last year.
Most likely, while I continue book reviews and posting about books in general, I’ll also go into my own writing process and my trials and tribulations. Right now, I’m about 35,000 or so words into a novel. Only about 50,000 left to go!
So this is me saying mea culpa for the radio silence and promising that I’ll be better.
I’ve always found the word “lyrical” interesting. It refers to both literature and music, according to the OED, it means “expressing the writer’s emotions in an imaginative and beautiful way.”
Isn’t it funny, then, how so many songs can be completely and utterly devoted of any sort of lyricism?
Growing up, I was never a huge consumer of music. I listened to it, of course. It just never really moved me the way it seemed to move other people. I’d often hear people proclaim that they had to have music, that they would just die without it and I didn’t get it. I didn’t feel that way at all. I thought people were exaggerating when they went on about how a song or an artist touched them or meant so much to them.
Music was fine. It was just something that was there. I listened to it and, for the most part, forgot about it when I wasn’t listening. This relative indifference to music continued for an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time. Until after I’d graduated college.
A month after I’d graduated college, I began working a mind numbing job at an insurance company. About two or so years after this, I ended up working in a department that handled translations of medical records and whatever other flotsam and jetsam came across our desks. Since I spent all day staring at computer screens and no longer had to talk to our policyholders, I was somewhat bored. I asked a friend what she did to make it through the day.
She listened to Pandora. Continue reading