I go three days, hair sprouts from under my collar and I snarl. This poor woman, in the name of writing:
So, if there are any remaining readers of Book World still out there after the lack of posts recently, you may be wondering how my week of reading deprivation was.
Bloody awful is how it was. A truly vile week in which we had exams
(yes, the whole family participates, with revision anyway), builders
randomly plastering ceilings in rooms which I had foolishly believed to
be on the verge of being habitable again and creating endless mess in
the process, hot weather taunting us with the fact that the garden
resembles a bombsite on the previous location of a builders yard, then
rain taunting us with the fact that we spent the hot weather in the
office and are now spending the long weekend staring out at the rain
with the heating back on. And of course my sole consolation of being
able to escape it all with a good book was denied me.
I have not found any inner enlightenment. On the contrary, I have
found myself with useless corners of time too small and awkward to fill
with anything practical. Instead of spending them pleasurably with a
few pages of a thought-provoking book, I have found myself staring
aimlessly out of car/train/kitchen windows brooding on the week’s
annoyances. Thus all the petty grievances which should have slipped
away were simply magnified and I have been in a vile temper. I declare
reading deprivation an utter failure.
I declare! You know, it does make sense, in a way – I often think that if I cut out my Google Reader I.V., put a vacation notice on my e-mail, stopped reading, stopped listening to music, all of that input, if I turned it all off, that maybe those ideas bubbling around in the back of my mind would surface. Plus, without reading/music/etc., I’d probably be homicidal, which would land me in prison w/plenty of time to write! The plan is foolproof; expect my novel in 2010.
Have a look at her other posts regarding The Artist’s Way (apparently, a cottage industry of sorts). Interesting stuff.
*And yes, I’m listening, so expect continued oblique references. It kicks ass. I’m home alone with a pot of iced coffee in my boxers, so consider the obliqueness to continue into absolute obliquity.
Actually, I’m in my boxers, the coffee’s in my cup. OK, that’s all.