I’m an aspiring writer. My DD comes in the form of reading profusely, especially as of late. My mind has somehow formed a knot of understanding between a head full of literature and a heart full of prose. The result will someday be a novel, at which point I can call myself a writer, no longer aspiring.
As I read through several books, I began to find pleasure in the hunt for the next spine to touch my hands. It’s seductive in a way. Although, going to Amazon and drifting from review to review, reading loose tongued neophytes spout off about their viewpoints, can grow tiresome. Occasionally one such review on Goodreads will inform my opinion, but mostly they’re just opinions and not fact.
I do find myself leaning towards books of a more literary vein, although I did just finish Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. It was an easy read, but not a book I was particularly turned on by. It’s spine was slippery and maybe not the cupped correctly in my hands. So, anyways, I find new books through blogs focusing on reviews, newspaper articles, and magazines like the New Yorker or Atlantic. The Lit Supp is also a good place. Although, being just short of introverted I never heard anyone speak it’s name.
The NYBooks.com site has a poem printed each day this month — all of which originally appeared in their volumes. I’m hoping they take their subscriptions to the Kindle, like their publishing kin The Times. I just signed up for the Lit Supp, reading my first copy now. I hope to divine from its text some answer to the question of — what should I read next.