At SF Novelists, the post author says he can't read for pleasure without analyzing the book for writerly flaws. That makes me sad, and it obviously makes the author sad as well, since he's vowed to read a book for fun by the end of the year. Hurrah! Although...just one book? Good Lord, if I don't have the joy of reading once I'm a "real" writer, do I want to do it?

Perhaps the reason why I haven't exactly gotten anything in publishable form yet is because I read too much for pleasure. I always have a book with me. You could truthfully say that I am addicted to reading. I hope I never lose the joy of marveling at an author's ability to manipulate my emotions and show me a different world. I hope you all have that pleasure.

Kelly McCullough says the best way to write is to write. He's right (haha, I'm punny), but there are certainly days when that doesn't seem possible. I'm a little run down right now, what with getting ready for Wrockstock Spooktacular (which includes a heck of a lot of laundry, knitting/fringing/probably not blocking a PoA scarf, and packing) and my cousin's wedding (which includes sewing a dress and retouching photos and dealing with all the attendant issues of putting many people in a small space) and NaNoWriMo (of which I am co-Municipal Liasion of the St. Louis Region and therefore need to get people to come to write-ins and make them fun, and I need to get a pair of knitted mitts done so my hands don't freeze in the apartment during furious writing episodes). Oh, right. Can't forget about Artists Boutique, the art show that has my lovely momma on committee. Whew. Wish me luck.

I hope you all are getting more sleep than me. It's a bad thing when you're sleep deprived before NaNo...