“This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” –William Shakespeare
I am grateful to have been spared the snow that was predicted for my area yesterday. Yes, there was plenty of rain. Two inches of snow is expected between today and tomorrow, which is easily handled and doesn’t bother me in the least. I am incredibly grateful to be able to write in a home with heat, where I can nurse my injured feet (Don’t ask. I feel like I’ve been in six inch spike heels for a month!) and nurse my post-migraine stomach issues (If this happens to you, I highly recommend Zico Coconut Water. I’ve been religiously drinking it post-migraine for four years. In a pinch, Gatorade or Powerade will do, but they will not rehydrate you anywhere near as quickly, or as naturally, as Coconut Water. Zico is my personal preference after horrible experiences with some utterly vile brands.). I did manage to get some sleep, but I’ve been having the freakiest dreams and nightmares. Whenever you watch a TV show or a movie and you dream about it afterwards, you have to decide if it really affected you or if it’s simply the last thing you saw before going to bed. Sometimes, I cannot decide and it nags at me.
Writers are influenced by all kinds of things. I, personally, don’t ever like feeling like I am borrowing or stealing someone else’s ideas. I realize that everything under the sun has already been thought of at one time or another, but that doesn’t make it right in my eyes. I spend a lot of time looking for a more original angle or taking pieces of my own life and twisting them into good fiction. There should be some finesse involved, it’s not something that is easy, but once the ideas flow, the words flow quite well.
I am trying to finish reading two books before starting anything new. Unfortunately, even though I truly want to read both books, my brain just cannot comprehend words the way I normally do. I’m going to blow it off as a sluggish end to the year and not take it too personally. I can always break them out when I’m feeling better. No harm, no foul. It’s incredibly bizarre for me to not be able to finish a book within a day, or a few days, so this long period of time where I am staring at the same page is unbearably frustrating for me. I just might fail my Goodreads Reading Challenge this year, but I’m okay with that. It’s not the end of the world, just something I enjoy participating in. Maybe I’ll skip it next year, maybe I won’t, but I think committing myself to more than 12 books is probably a stretch, so if I do decide to partake, 12 it is.
I realize this is scattered and that my last few posts have been pretty sub-par. I have yet to decide if it’s better to not post at all or to post and be real. Today, you get the real. I’ll figure the future out on a day when my brain decides to fire on all cylinders.
All the best…..
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.