NO MORE! FOR NOW...
Ugh, I have to lay off the politics for awhile...at least until the first debate on 9/26. All this time spent watching the polls, scrutinizing the electoral maps, listening to commentary after commentary after commentary...I can't take it anymore! I lose sleep at night and don't do my job during the day (well, I'd avoid that regardless, but still).
All is well for the moment. Reading Water for Elephants for the book club and really enjoying it. Also reading Moorcock's The Metatemporal Detective...not enjoying that one as much. It's a little...I dunno, too British for me, I guess. Which is kind of the point, I know, seeing as it's an homage to the Sexton Blake stories that Moorcock grew up on, but it feels a bit too aware of itself as an homage as lacks more of the intelligent fantasy and adventure that I've come to expect and enjoy in his books. I don't want to go so far as to suggest he phoned this one in, but...
I shouldn't be this tired, seeing as we didn't do too much what with the rain and all, but I am, so there you go. And the coffee hasn't kicked in yet, so my brain still feels sluggish.
I really, really, really need to start writing again. I know, I say that all the time, and will probably continue to until I die, but it's true. I've got a stable of ideas I'm waiting to bring to life, and even an idea for a self-published book that I really think can work if I apply myself, but ugh, Life gets in the way as it always does and before I know it I'm lying in bed wishing to God I could go to sleep and not wake up for a month. Maybe if I stuck to some kind of schedule...one page writing exercises during the work week, things to get me in the habit of writing, without the added stress of feeling like they need to be masterpieces, and then save the *real* writing for the weekend? Need to think on that.
All is well for the moment. Reading Water for Elephants for the book club and really enjoying it. Also reading Moorcock's The Metatemporal Detective...not enjoying that one as much. It's a little...I dunno, too British for me, I guess. Which is kind of the point, I know, seeing as it's an homage to the Sexton Blake stories that Moorcock grew up on, but it feels a bit too aware of itself as an homage as lacks more of the intelligent fantasy and adventure that I've come to expect and enjoy in his books. I don't want to go so far as to suggest he phoned this one in, but...
I shouldn't be this tired, seeing as we didn't do too much what with the rain and all, but I am, so there you go. And the coffee hasn't kicked in yet, so my brain still feels sluggish.
I really, really, really need to start writing again. I know, I say that all the time, and will probably continue to until I die, but it's true. I've got a stable of ideas I'm waiting to bring to life, and even an idea for a self-published book that I really think can work if I apply myself, but ugh, Life gets in the way as it always does and before I know it I'm lying in bed wishing to God I could go to sleep and not wake up for a month. Maybe if I stuck to some kind of schedule...one page writing exercises during the work week, things to get me in the habit of writing, without the added stress of feeling like they need to be masterpieces, and then save the *real* writing for the weekend? Need to think on that.