This has been an odd summer so far. I'm not a whiner, so I will avoid the bad stuff and comment upon the general strangeness of nightly frosts in June, time that speeds by like a bullet train, and an unusually large deluge of good poems cycling into my head every day.
I'm a to-do list girl. I have a hard time when the semester's over and I have to reassign particular tasks to particular times. My to-do lists have suffered. I try to write a new one every week. Sometimes I make abbreviations that I can't read. Not recommended.
I want to learn how to read for fun again. If I had the time, I would start a reading purpose journal and record every time I read something, and what kind of reading it is. When I'm not reading for work (student poems, contest submissions, mss by continuing authors) I'm reading outside for work (book reviews, books for the book club I moderate). The other night I read a bunch of Barn Owl Review subs, and it was such a thrill because I was only typing in comments and evaluating them, and because they were so damn good.
I want to go back to when I was a kid reading Anne Tyler novels at the pool. There was a kind of immersion that I had. I'd need to snap myself out of it with a big sip of Tab cola. Now, reading for a living, I feel like I'm always skimming, even when I'm not skimming.
Because, after all, there's just not enough time in the day.
Dear Readers, how do you read? For those of you who read a lot of articles and other things online, have you felt that your reading style has changed? And how? How do you switch from one kind of reading to the next? What's the secret to relishing it again? And hopefully it doesn't require saccharin.
On a separate note, I sent two submissions out into the world today and got the most magnificent high from it. I wish you all the same euphoria the next time you submit.
It's the first day of finals week and I already have that loopy off-my-routine feeling. Waiting for things to grade, and when those ...
The universe is telling me to go back to sleep today. This doesn't happen often, and I can't do it. But there's something abo...
This book is not a book, it’s treatise on empire, a manifest destiny, a pack of wild peasants outside the gate, a mesmerizing tour ...
I'm trying like heck to remember what last year's spring break was like. Has it gotten to that point? Where every year blurs in...