Tuesday, October 12, 2004

A word about reading

I know I must be drained, because everything I pick up to read is blah. Everything but one book. Claudia Dain's THE FALL. Brilliant, lyrical writing, clever witty dialogue that reminds me of Shakespearean plays, and a strong-willed hero and heroine. It's the only book holding my interest. Normally I devour books when I have time, but not right now. Even books that look interesting I'm reading a few pages and putting them down with a sigh. A chick lit that makes me want to sleep, an historical that's rather dark and supposed to be sexy, but I'm finding it boring. It must be me. Only Claudia's book holds my interest right now. How could I go wrong with writing like that? Some people are truly, truly gifted. She's one of them. I read her books and I aspire to be a better writer. I know I'll never get to her caliber. All I can do is try to be the best writer I'm meant to be.

Just be. How utterly Zen. I should go contemplate my belly button now and life. Instead, must write again about sad sad sad orphans. sigh...

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