A post about nothing at all. Plus a little writing inspiration.
I ran a Twitter poll recently asking if you wanted more or fewer book not-reviews.
The results were:
11% think I post too many not-reviews
19% think I post just enough reviews
11% think I should post more reviews
and 59% want chocolate.
I interpret these results to say that I can keep posting about whatever comes to mind as long as I give you chocolate.
What comes to mind right now is that I’ve drunk too much port. It was very good port, which makes the whole thing somewhat better.
At the vet today I met a crazy chicken lady. She had a sick chicken, and she explained how she’d been comparing its poo to the chicken poo she looked up on the internet. It turns out there are a lot of different ways chicken poo can look.
Figuring out what it means sounds like reading tea leaves, except you might not want to do it at the dinner table.
Or drink from the cup afterwards.
You probably don’t want to read about chicken poo. I didn’t give you enough chocolate for that. So, a book…
I’m reading another book by Jodi Picoult at the moment–it’s called Plain Truth and it’s about an Amish girl who gets accused of murdering her baby.
I picked it up because Jodi Picoult’s writing in Leaving Time was so smooth and touching, and I have a certain interest in non-mainstream lifestyles.
Plain Truth reads like earlier work. Acccording to Amazon as I look right now, it was published in 2009, whereas Leaving Time was published in 2014.
The difference hits you in the face. Not that Plain Truth is bad, but the writing is vanilla at best and jarring at worst, and I’ve been thrown by a number of head-hops.
Again, there are no dragons, but there is a hint of the supernatural.
I think I’ll stick around to the end, but I might need to wash my brain out after I finish.
Plain Truth is a bit of a disappointment, but in some ways it’s encouraging. It shows how much writers improve over time.
Maybe right now your writing isn’t as compelling as the writing of the masters and you can’t figure out why.
Sorry, I don’t know why either.
What I do know is that it can improve if you keep at it. Read good books. Pick apart why they work. Dissect the sections that bring tears to your eyes and bribe the dragons in them to abscond and come play in your world instead.
Your writing will get better, and one day it may even attain the heights you aspire to.
I feel like I ought to write more, but I’m not going to because I’m sad because we had to get one of our chickens put to sleep today. I’m also sad because it cost $110 dollars.
Hubby keeps asking if I’m okay about it. I am, I think. I grew up surrounded by chickens, and you know how the old saying goes: sometimes monkeys die. It applies to chickens too.
Sorry this post turned into a bit of a downer. Have some cute kittens.
Kittens fix everything, right?
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