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I read a lot of popular fiction. As a writer, I need to know something about books that are extraordinarily successful – i.e., what it is about them that makes millions of readers clamor to buy. It was on that premise that I read “Twilight,” and loved it enough to read all four books more than once. For the same reason, more recently, I read the “Fifty Shades” trilogy, and you all know how I feel about these.
Do you? I mean, out loud?
I didn’t used to. Only deranged people talk aloud to themselves, right? But there are certain circumstances now when I find myself doing it.
Like when I carry two super-heavy bags of groceries in from the car and heave them onto the kitchen counter. Okay, I grunt in relief when the first hits. Okay, I grunt when the second lands beside it.
I also talk to myself in times of frustration, like when someone cuts me off in traffic. You imbecile, I mutter under my breath, often using a more rude word than imbecile, but since I’m talking to myself, myself isn’t shocked. Are you in such a *** rush that you can’t be civil?
Ahah! Bet you thought I haven’t been knitting, since I’ve been blogging about everything but that. You would be wrong. When writing days are the longest, I need my knitting the most.
I’m shrugging – no, not doing the bobbing thing with the shoulders, but knitting a shrug. Remember, I mentioned it in my blog on instant gratification? I even posted a picture there of the yarn I was going to use.
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