- A Hippo Banquet by Mary Kingsley
- The Complete Chi’s Sweet Home, vol 3 by Kanata Konami
- The Beautiful Cassandra by Jane Austen
- The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder
- Expecting Better by Emily Oster
I kicked so much ass yesterday, you guys. Not only did I finish my non-fiction book (Expecting Better) yesterday, but I also went through a whole magazine, cleaned most of the house, and wrote a touch over 5600 words to catch up on my NaNoWriMo word count. At about 6, I was done. I was exhausted and my brain hurt. But I was proud. I had done well.
Last week was one of those weeks when things just kind of clicked. I got a little bit of alone time and I read some great little books and I was feeling good. It’s been a long time since I felt in my element and it was wonderful. One night I came home from work and camped out in my room for an hour, reading and writing. The bed was warm and comfortable and it was nice to just close myself off for a bit. Yesterday was kind of the same. I camped out in my office for most of the morning. I even sat in the comfy armchair that I’ve been having a hard time getting out of.
I didn’t add any to my TBR. Which is good. My fort of purchased books is a bit large and intimidating and I probably need to quit adding to it. I have been working on deep cleaning my office for the past couple of weeks. I’m about halfway through my bookshelf and then I tackle The Closet of Death. Hopefully I’ll get more room in there. I’m not fooling myself about the bookshelves… Also, cats, man. SOMEONE has managed to destroy my closet. I think it may have been Meeples. Stacks have been knocked over, things have been kicked from the shelf, and my little wire storage shelf is mysteriously leaning to one side…
Like I said, I was back in my element last week. I was reading like a fiend. I devoured all of the books I read, with the exception of The Long Winter which took my a while to listen to. I enjoyed the reading, the act of getting from one side of a book to another.
I’m hoping for a similar week this week. Now that I’m caught up on my word count, it should be easier to get my writing in each day. I’ve only got three rooms left to clean in the house and I’ve got oodles of leftovers and the promise of bruschetta. Thanksgiving? I can handle that! And it probably wouldn’t hurt me to take my book since it will be best to avoid any and all political conversations. (Pregnancy: I can’t drink but I sure as hell can argue. About anything.)
I’m currently reading Bridget Jones’s Baby. I feel terribly cliche doing so. Because, you know, pregnant. But I do LOVE Bridget Jones. I read the first book in my British Lit class in college and I’ve only watched the movie a couple dozen times. This book is readable and relateable and funny. When I read, I tear through pages at a time. Up next is a little Hemingway and I’m hoping to get that done this week too.
I’m thankful for books. But I imagine that was a given…