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Feb. 8th, 2019 11:50 pmIt's almost midnight, and I am only now getting to my blurty wrap-up. Well, it grocery day, and I did just remember that I needed to fix & freeze my meat. What is especially striking to me, though, is that I have not felt sleepy and fogged up, though I am now fast getting there.
I have even been doing some good late-night reading. I am counting my 'how to write' and 'the art of literature' books as being in the same category with my collections of poetry, and hence keeping those books as an active part of my reading life, and it's working well for me. I'm enjoying it.
Right now, it's James Wood's "How Fiction Works". The key to making these books work for me, I think, is to freely skip over the parts that fail to spark my interest. In this book, for instance, in the very beginning, I think he goes on about first-person, third-person narration and the like in a way that it just seems like a drag to me, as though I am wasting my time and should read something else. However, after simply jumping over that section, I am able to get a good little fire burning. I like his discussion about what should be the level of detail in fiction, and it is as satisfying to me as poetry that I enjoy. In poetry too, it should be noted, one has to skip over a lot to find those selections that shine like brilliant gems in one's eyes - as a matter of personal taste and timely needs (at another time, I might better appreciate Wood's discussion on narrative windows).
I will also mention that I had a Coco dream last night. I just went outside and was happy to discover a couple of calico kittens, and one was Coco. I called out in tender happiness, "Coco!" Also note worthy, and somewhat disturbing I feel, is that doubling effect that I get when a pet has died. It feels like it must mean something significant and meaningful, for good or ill, but I have no idea what.
I have even been doing some good late-night reading. I am counting my 'how to write' and 'the art of literature' books as being in the same category with my collections of poetry, and hence keeping those books as an active part of my reading life, and it's working well for me. I'm enjoying it.
Right now, it's James Wood's "How Fiction Works". The key to making these books work for me, I think, is to freely skip over the parts that fail to spark my interest. In this book, for instance, in the very beginning, I think he goes on about first-person, third-person narration and the like in a way that it just seems like a drag to me, as though I am wasting my time and should read something else. However, after simply jumping over that section, I am able to get a good little fire burning. I like his discussion about what should be the level of detail in fiction, and it is as satisfying to me as poetry that I enjoy. In poetry too, it should be noted, one has to skip over a lot to find those selections that shine like brilliant gems in one's eyes - as a matter of personal taste and timely needs (at another time, I might better appreciate Wood's discussion on narrative windows).
I will also mention that I had a Coco dream last night. I just went outside and was happy to discover a couple of calico kittens, and one was Coco. I called out in tender happiness, "Coco!" Also note worthy, and somewhat disturbing I feel, is that doubling effect that I get when a pet has died. It feels like it must mean something significant and meaningful, for good or ill, but I have no idea what.
