It's Terminal
Day two of my semi-vacation and my room's a mess. There are books and papers and records and coffee cups everywhere, even on the floor. Oh, and a cereal bowl. It's disgusting, I know. I'll clean it up later.
Read two weepies in a row, from Sunday night to Monday afternoon: I have finished Shadow Puppets by Orson Scott Card and A Very Long Engagement by Sebastien Japrisot. Great reads, good cry. I'm such a wuss, even science fiction makes me cry. (Another example: I cried after watching National Geographic's Megastructures program. So what if I love buildings?) I'm a few pages deep into David Mitchell's Black Swan Green. I'm thinking of putting it down and finishing Emma, although I don't want to see myself getting defeated by another David Mitchell novel (I didn't get to the end of Number9Dream, even though I told myself that it has a bit of Haruki Murakami atmosphere.) And Black Swan Green is a brand new, quite expensive book, so I'm really pushing and telling my stubborn self that you really have to hunker down and get right to its end.
Read two weepies in a row, from Sunday night to Monday afternoon: I have finished Shadow Puppets by Orson Scott Card and A Very Long Engagement by Sebastien Japrisot. Great reads, good cry. I'm such a wuss, even science fiction makes me cry. (Another example: I cried after watching National Geographic's Megastructures program. So what if I love buildings?) I'm a few pages deep into David Mitchell's Black Swan Green. I'm thinking of putting it down and finishing Emma, although I don't want to see myself getting defeated by another David Mitchell novel (I didn't get to the end of Number9Dream, even though I told myself that it has a bit of Haruki Murakami atmosphere.) And Black Swan Green is a brand new, quite expensive book, so I'm really pushing and telling my stubborn self that you really have to hunker down and get right to its end.