I'm going to finish reading Case Histories by Kate Atkinson today. And then I'll read what I have so far of my own novel. I will especially hate it after reading the Atkinson because she's so good you could never bother writing again.
Every once in awhile I read a book and think, I wish I'd written that one. It doesn't happen often. And the only other ones I can think of are Before and After by Rosellen Brown, In the Cut by Susanna Moore (forget the movie) and Looking for Mr. Goodbar by Judith Rossner. I know these are three women. There are also a few by men, but they escape me now.
Anyway, the beginning of writing again is less than twenty-four hours away. I have to get my head back into the world of 1943. And I have to go back to figuring out what the hell is going on. I'm hoping after reading the eighty-some pages I'll have a better idea. Or any idea of anything.
As trying as this period has been it was nice not setting an alarm clock and staying up past ten. Now I have to go back into training as though I were an athlete. My focus has to change. And I hope I won't be too distracted by the "discussion" about my book jacket. They've put it up on Amazon which really makes me irritated.