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July 1, 2015 / Meredith

Reading and Writing

I’m back.  The thing is, I’ve been doing a lot more reading than writing lately, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but my blog(s) have gone to hell lately.

I’ve been exploring more writing in the blogosphere.  One thing I’ve become painfully aware of is that I’ve been bombarded with way too much with estrogen in my blog reading.  Too much mommy, too much touchy-feely, too much lady stuff.  There’s nothing wrong with mommies or feelings or ladies, it’s just that I’m one of those women who needs a little manliness in her life.  Oh yes, Knicky provides much manliness in my daily life, but I wanted to read some male blog writing for a change, and I have been.  Pretty good ones too.

I’ve been reading some really bad books lately.  The last one I read was A Confederacy of Dunces.  This thing was one of the most tiresome things I’ve read in a long time.  OK, so the author committed suicide at a young age and I suppose that grants him some recognition in that his life was over far too soon.  On the other hand it’s kind of a good thing he’s not around to write more books if they were to be anything like this one.  It’s one of those books that a person either loves or hates, so don’t take my word for it.  It’s a bizarre story about a bizarre man in New Orleans.  That’s all I’m going to say.  Except that I’m not going to keep this book on my bookshelf for a reread in the future.  The author wasn’t a bad writer, but I think I’m just too dumb to get the humor of this story.

The book I’m reading right now is a real turd, but I’m determined to finish it.  It’s called  The Dark Heroine.  Ho hum, another vampire book.  I didn’t realize it was about vampires when I bought it at Half Price Books and totally wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known, especially after reading that other piece of vampire crap, Twilight.  I’m in love with old school vampires like Vladmir and Lestat.  This current day, teenage bloodsucking drivel is such a bore, and so badly written.  The only reason I’m going to finish the book is because it gives me hope in my own writing abilities.  If books like this can get published then I should have no problem.

Here’s the thing.  I’m coming up on a time where I can spend a lot of time writing and I want to be able to do it well.  When I read bad writers I feel confident.  When I read good writers I feel inadequate.  My new mantra is a quote from Mark Twain:

Comparison is the death of joy.

In these days of self-publishing nearly anyone can have a book out there, good or bad.  I have to remember to write for the joy of it instead of anticipating the profit or notoriety that may or may not result.

The End


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