Writing out of boredom

Everytime I read a book I have this urge to write. I finish the book and have a few moments of "Wonderful!" or "Dreadful." or "Blech at that ending." and it's never the same with books as it is for movies, but reading a book takes so much more time.

After my moment of book review to myself, I sit or lay wondering why I haven't bothered to write one. Perhaps it's because I can't put myself out there. I think it's more to do with the fact that a giant "Ah ha!" Idea has yet to hit me, and the ones that do never quite make it further than the first few paragraphs.

Short stories have always been easier for me, because somewhere along the pages of a long story I lose interest. And if I, the writer, can't remain interested then who else is going to? I wouldn't ask anyone to read something even I couldn't finish.

It's been a while since I've written anything fictional. But to fill that absence I have blogged more here, which is a bonus for you. I promise. I want to be creative, I want to write. I want someone to read what I write and have a moment of contemplation, and then perhaps I in turn can inspire them.

The Smart One

Just finished reading another book, The Smart One, by Ellen Meister. It's a story of three sisters, Claire, Beverly and Joey (Joanna). It follows them through love, life and lots of trips to the hospital. They find a Metal drum under their neighbors house and when they open it there is a body of a girl in there. I won't ruin the story for you, but it's damn good.

So I have two books down and three to go. I'm sorely tempted to stay up tonight reading "Serendipity" but then again I'm also tempted to get a full 18 hours of sleep. Only time will tell what this night has in store for me.

Things I should have learned by now

Tonight at work I had an hour lunch and like all of my hour lunches I headed outside to smoke, then stopped at subway and finally hit up the book section of the store. I picked out a book by Johanna Lindsey, a favorite of mine ever since I was younger. I had about 30 minutes left and headed to the break-room to read. Managed to get 77 pages in and knew it was going to be hard to put down.

I got through the rest of my shift and headed home knowing full well that I was going to read some more tonight. I forgot, that when I start a book I can not pause in the middle of it only to pick it up again later. I immerse myself in the book, envisioning the characters, feeling their emotions and rooting for good to win over evil. Every time, and you would think after 16 years of reading I'd have learned this by now, but no.

So here I sit at 2:30 Am smiling over the romance and the happy ending. Thrilled that Tristan turned out to be a great guy (Although I knew he would...even if I had my doubts in the start.) and that Bettide lived and so did her daughter. And I've realized that every time I put one of these books down after finishing it, I'm happy but then I am instantly hit with sadness.
Because if theres anything these romance, love filled books make me want to do, it's hug John.

Now I am filled with a strange mixture of emotions not really sure which one is the most important. (Probably the sleepiness) but on the upside, Walmart has caused me to start reading a lot more!