Where did the time go?
I can’t believe how late this post is. This was suppose to have been posted about October 20th-ish. It’s no longer October. Ugh. How did that happen?
So, I can either hang my head or trudge on through. Hanging my head didn’t accomplish much. So, with no further self-lashing, here is a digest of what I read last month.
I finished eleven books this month. Eight of them were nonfiction, and three were mysteries. Two of the mysteries I reviewed over on Killer Nashville. Doing reviews for Killer Nashville introduces me to writers I might not normally come across. Continue reading
There are two times of the year that are great
Sock Monkey reading by a window.
to be inside reading. One is when it’s freezing cold outside. It’s even better when there’s a blizzard outside. (Here in South Carolina that means a lone snowflake was seen only a mile down the road. ((In the summer, our crepe myrtle can cause a bit of confusion.))
The other time is when it’s hot as blazes. Now, I grew up on a local farm. Hot is when it’s over 96 degrees and you can fry your eggs on the sidewalk. The young weather folks on our local station think it’s hot when we hit 90.
I call that summer in South Carolina. Continue reading
What kind of reader are you? I often have breakfast with two friends. One doesn’t read. (What?) The other only reads nonfiction, usually for his work. My reading is a lot different.
I love to read. My parents used to laugh at me because, even at an early age, whenever we went somewhere, or went just for a ride, I’d be in the backseat reading. They really gave me a hard time when I got my driver’s license and had to ask directions whenever we drove anywhere.
Stephen King said, “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.” And most writing teachers agree. So I see reading as an important part of my writing. Continue reading