My love of words notwithstanding, I am shamefully not very well read.
I read The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings at a very young age, about 12 or 13, I believe. I have read LOTR several times since then. I have read the Harry Potter series. I have read several of the typical high school titles, and some others sprinkled in besides. If I were ever to call myself "well read" it would be in the genre of true crime. A guilty pleasure? Perhaps. But I've read the shit outta some true crime novels. Pick a serial killer. I know his parents' names. I shit you not. I've read a bit of Stephen King. And many, many nonfiction books about people who find themselves in impossible situations, i.e. Alive, 127 minutes, nonfictions by people who escaped North Korea, etc. But "the classics?" Not so much.
Maybe it was my busy-ness with motherhood or wifelyhood. Maybe it is due to the fact that when I start reading, everything else in my life suffers for it. Maybe it's due to the fact that "the classics" never caught my interest.
Well. Jake and I are about to remedy that.
We are now delving into the mysterious world of "100 books to read before you die" subjectivity. It seems everyone has different opinions on these. So, we are creating our own.
And we begin with Animal Farm. Sigh.... I know, I know. Don't say it. I've read most of the other standards. Lord of the Flies. 1984. Fahrenheit 451. To Kill A Mockingbird. But never got around to Animal Farm.
I'd love it if Andrew wanted to ride our train, but I know this isn't his gig, so I'm not going to push.
Is it a lonely old lady book club? Who cares! I am on a path, better late than never, to Renaissance womanhood. To know that which I live. To live that which I believe. To believe that which is the truth. Dude. I totally just made that up. I don't even know what it means.
Jake and I are doing NaNoWriMo this year. I signed up last year. And then.
So anyway. 50,000 words in 30 days. 1666 words a day. Needless to say, outlines and character sketches are totally trending around these parts. My current novel will be set aside for 30 days of raunchy, unadulterated, raw, wild, unedited word porn. And not Fifty Shades of Grey word porn. I mean word porn like... you know... as a metaphor. For.... you know.... getting off on writing a lot.
Here is a songaphor for the direction my sanity will take over the next 3 or 4 months.....