Despite myself I can’t read bad fiction anymore. I’ve been trying to lose myself in a crime fiction novel, marketed as Amazon Number 1 bestseller and all I can see are the extra adjectives, the spurious descriptions and how S ... L ... O ... W it is.
This is probably progress, though it means I am now spending a lot more on fiction, as the good stuff values itself more highly than the pulp fiction. I’ve just bought Anne Tyler Redhead by the Side of the Road, having confirmed through the free sample that it is a joy to read.
Most days I wake with inertia, then by mid morning I remember that to be a writer you have to write. And write. And write. Which leads me to my desk, which is where I wanted to be all along, really. I read through some of my notebook from earlier in the year and was pleased with some of it, which is heartening. Writing complete pieces has slowed, but I managed a rhyming poem last week and am planning on another this week, to wake my rhyming muscles up. There’s a local poetry group that seem to demand a rhyme if you want to get your poem distributed in their newsletter, so I figure it will pass the time to try and get one sent every week. Deafening silence after last weeks entry though, but now I see it as a puzzle to crack and am not disheartened.
My mind has been improved
Despite myself I can’t read bad fiction anymore. I’ve been trying to lose myself in a crime fiction novel, marketed as Amazon Number 1 bestseller and all I can see are the extra adjectives, the spurious descriptions and how S ... L ... O ... W it is.
This is probably progress, though it means I am now spending a lot more on fiction, as the good stuff values itself more highly than the pulp fiction. I’ve just bought Anne Tyler Redhead by the Side of the Road, having confirmed through the free sample that it is a joy to read.
Most days I wake with inertia, then by mid morning I remember that to be a writer you have to write. And write. And write. Which leads me to my desk, which is where I wanted to be all along, really. I read through some of my notebook from earlier in the year and was pleased with some of it, which is heartening. Writing complete pieces has slowed, but I managed a rhyming poem last week and am planning on another this week, to wake my rhyming muscles up. There’s a local poetry group that seem to demand a rhyme if you want to get your poem distributed in their newsletter, so I figure it will pass the time to try and get one sent every week. Deafening silence after last weeks entry though, but now I see it as a puzzle to crack and am not disheartened.