Thursday, October 13, 2005

My Definition Of A Rare Book

I finished my second reading through one of my favorite books, BASTARD OUT OF CAROLINA. I love this novel, but I have a hard time with the ending. Understandable, if you've read it. Dorothy Allison's award winning epic will forever be a timeless piece of Southern literature. (In my mind, at least.) A dark and moving tale of growing up poor in the not-so-distant past of the South.

If I'm not writing, I'm reading. Sometimes two and three books at a time. Well, you know what I mean. When I need a break from the keyboard, I kick back with a book. By the end of the day, the strain on the old eyes results in eyedrops and aspirin.

I think I belong to five book clubs and subscribe to way too many newsletters. Online and otherwise. Reading, a passion, sometimes cuts into my writing time. A problem that not's unusual to most writers. Usually, I can find a stopping place and get back to work.

But even after the second time through, BASTARD OUT OF CAROLINA kept me reading for three days with few breaks. I love those kinds of books. They're rare. Rare indeed. I love to read them, but more than that ... I want to write them.

Blessings to you and yours.

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