Over the past week I've been expending my literary energy in slightly different ways. First, I've been posting on another site's bulletin board - trying to gain inspiration for the DIE-IT. It's going pretty well, you need to find a category and then they get to know you and you get to know them and then you need to settle in. My niche is out there somewhere. Where is the grumpy, approaching-middle-age place?
Secondly, I've been reading, other people's blogs, published books and even newspapers. You should take a look at Plotastic; I've been doing the opposite but it's still interesting to read. I wrote a few days ago about the gray haired women. I finally got the book (Amazon's no cost delivery costs lots of time), and I'm disappointed. I feel like the author is name dropping; which is something I really, really abhor. I'm sure it's my own thing but I'm wondering if anyone else felt the same. If she's making such a personal statement of empowerment, why do I need to hear about a Genius Grant winner's opinion of said author. Of course, the author is published and I am not. Something to think about. I'll continue reading. Oh, the book is physically deformed.
I'll take a picture for you (soon). You have to see it to believe it. First the publisher let it out of China or someplace. The people at Amazon unpacked it. Then they repacked it. All of this happened with no one stopping to say, Hey is this defective? I can still read it, but it looks odd and feels odd in my hands.