That’s what it feels like today.
Last week I did pretty well with this thing I’m writing. But, of course, as predicted, by this Monday I hated it.
I wrote a paragraph that day. Nothing Tuesday. Another page today. I feel stuck. My mind is all over the place except on the novel. Instead of writing a book I’m buying books. From everywhere. Especially England. I know this is an addiction because there’s no way I will ever read them all. But it isn’t the reading, is it? Although I read plenty of them. It’s in the ordering, the arriving, the opening, the smelling of the book, the reading of the quotes, the dedication, the first line.
The above almost sounds like a drug addiction. I don’t know this first hand, but it seems that drug addiction has rituals unlike drinking. Yes, drinking has some, but not like shooting up. At least it’s not that way in what I read. The drugs, I mean. Heroin. My heroin is books.
But I’m supposed to be writing one. Today I feel that I’d be happy if I never wrote another word. Maybe I won’t.
6 comments:
i support you either way but god i hope you keep writing. some of us need you.
love to you
"It’s in the ordering, the arriving, the opening, the smelling of the book, the reading of the quotes, the dedication, the first line."
I so agree with this sentiment.
Suzanne
'book addiction'...what an interesting concept...being myself a book lover, i finally find an addiction where i only saw mere love..what a deep thought you had here. really. but don't worry, buying books from england for an american lady sounds more logical than a french girl buying japanese books, though she cannnot read them...just a need to buy books, maybe...
good luckwith your writing
M.
I was just reading Suzuki Beane yesterday. I have read quite a few of your books and love your work. This fan site for Louise Fitzhugh left me wondering if you two were ever involved. Care to comment?
I don't write anything personal on this blog except about writing. So if you want to write me an email I'll answer your question.
But it isn’t the reading, is it? Although I read plenty of them. It’s in the ordering, the arriving, the opening, the smelling of the book, the reading of the quotes, the dedication, the first line.The above almost sounds like a drug addiction. I don’t know this first hand, but it seems that drug addiction has rituals unlike drinking. Yes, drinking has some, but not like shooting up. At least it’s not that way in what I read. The drugs, I mean. Heroin. My heroin is books.
If only you could see me now. I'm nearly buried in books. My ex wife of nearly ten years just moved and she gave me back about twelve boxes of stuff, 10 boxes of books. And I love it. I've been opening each box and sorting the books by section even though there's no room on the shelves in the sections without some major reorganizing first. And some of them I read a long time ago, but many I hadn't gotten to yet, when she got them in the divorce. It's like seeing old friends again. And some were even ones she just thought I would want that she was getting rid of. New friends and old friends. Heroin. The rush of books. And I feel all even though I have worked in a bookstore for nearly 20 years. Oy.
Thanks for answering my question. (:
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