|photo by Enzo Muno|
Writing my latest. There’s a story there somewhere as opposed to dramatic unrelated actions, but I’ll have to eliminate some blabber to get there, wish I could send it to Maxwell Perkins or someone and have them fix it.
I’m reading my junky horror novel quickly.
I’m reading Hamnet slowly.
And I’m also enjoying the second edition of Forest for the Trees. Not much seems to have really changed since the first. I think the 2nd edition for the 21 century is just a gimmick to get people to buy it again, but it's been long enough since I last read that every statement seems newish. It's all over the place like a distracted fascinating conversationalist (or this blog). Some of it I relate to, some of it I don’t, but the book is good as well as more fun then I remember.
My junky horror novel is… junky. But exciting. I know how hard it is to write exciting, so I appreciate it.
|photo by neonbrand|
Hamnet I’m savoring like a fine wine if I drank. I feel like a hypocrite talking about fine wine, because when I did drink, cheap sangria was about as sophisticated as I got. That and alcohol mixed with chocolate. I thought of it all as candy. I gave that up and began a two gallon a day diet coke habit which I dropped and now I just drinking water and my strange cayenne pepper, lemon, and maple syrup tonic.