Sunday, March 11, 2012

Books and Writing


It's a day of rest. We stopped in Wanaka for the day.

Exchanged three books for three. I have Seabiscuit— hopefully I'll actually read it by the time we finish with the camper van. There's a used book store in Christchurch I'm hankering to set foot in.

I was actually on StumbleUpon today, searching the book category… so many. So little time. I tried to write a bit so I could visualize the layout of 'the house.' It's just a project now, this planning of the house— I highly doubt it's ever going to come to fruition, merely because it's very unlikely to ever get a dream house built. I tried to visualize it merely so I can make a plan of it and learn to use Google SketchUp properly.

But I couldn't quite do it. I was vacillating between Nora Roberts and StumbleUpon (the result of that is another 200 books that sound really interesting and necessary to read) and writing. Writing lost, mostly because I can't get a proper spatial direction on anything without having it drawn or really thought out. And drawing it out takes a level of detail I don't have yet. It's one of the reasons I can't draw maps properly.

Does this world sound disjointed and silly and absolutely pointless?

Good. My thoughts today are jumbled and absolutely pointless. I don't think I've thought a single sensible thing today, unless it's the fact that I don't need to write one million words in a year.

Hmm. Once I would have been annoyed at anyone who said it was a bit ridiculous to be writing them. Now… it's a bit of a relief to not worry about it at all. I'll still be writing— I have two books to finish— but I won't be imposing such a limit on it. Not yet, anyway. 

I'll still be reading those 204 books though, and perhaps I'll  even increase that, seeing as I'm so ahead of schedule.

And it's not as if I'm not writing. I'm reviewing the books… and I should be writing blog posts.

I just kind of can't muster the energy for creativity any more. I wish I could. It would be nice to be able to. But I'm not going to force myself until June. That's Camp NaNoWriMo, and I'm not going to miss out on that. It will be interesting to see if the quality of the stories goes up or down during that time. Certainly the books I'm writing now will be finished about twenty times faster than they would be otherwise.

And back to books for the last 60 words.

I finished An Outback Marriage. I loved the last few pages. I'm finishing Arabian Nights. Then Pride and Prejudice, and finally Oliver Twist. I'll be interpersing that with Adam's Tongue and The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (someone has to set Ioan a good example! He's been reading paperbacks about alternate 15th magic centuries and a secret fake German organization during WW II. Naturally they will spark a lifelong interest in history?)

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