Yesterday I wrote about 4,000 more on that little "story" I've been cooking. I hadn't worked on it since the other day that I wrote so much on it. Just wasn't feeling well. Sinus pressure and headache, so it was too much strain on my eyes to do any serious writing. Heck, I've got a huge pile of TBR books now and not sure how I'll get them read until my sinus pressure lets up off my eyes. I've been reading Witchling by Yasmine Galenorn and it's slow going...not because it's not good cause I'm enjoying it, but because my eyes just aren't willing to work with me right now. LOL Sinus medicine's not helping much..ugh!
I got my autographed copy of Maureen McKade's A Reason To Believe that I won over on Petticoats and Pistols. I got it on Thursday I believe it was. She had included some bookmarks and postcards with her novels on them. Thought that was really cool.
Then just a few minutes ago when I went to the mailbox, I got my autographed copy of Pam Crooks' Untamed Cowboy along with a couple of cool sparkly Harlequin pens. I won them over on P&P too. And I also got two of the four books I ordered from Amazon. The Stranger by Elizabeth Lane and Maureen McKade's other book A Reason To Live that is part of the same series as the one she signed for me.
I'm hoping I REALLY start to feel better soon, not only for my own writing's sake, but so I can get lost inside all these new books! I swear I had forgotten how addictive reading was until just a few months back. I hadn't bought new books or read anything new in a long time. I had given up my book collecting for the most part(except for keeping up with my V.C. Andrews collection) when I moved down here. Since I was staying home and not bringing in money, I never made any point of asking my hubby if he minded if I indulged in buying books from time to time.
When I was making my own money before he and I met, I would occasionally go to Joseph-Beth in Lexington and just scroll the shelves, in search of something new and intriguing to read. At the end of April of this year I rediscovered my love of books. I started out saying I was just investing in some research of what's *new* out now to find out if my ideas would fit in, but I stumbled across other books that weren't even close to my writing and I LOVED it!
Now I'm devouring books like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat-buffet. I was so out of touch. (of course, I've also said that about myself before in the past in regard to poetry. I have written a LOT of poetry since I was a teenager.)
I thrive on books, words, the smell of a new book's pages. The ink, the crisp pages and binding. I love going into Barnes and Noble. There's just nothing like it in the world to rejuvenate my senses. It refreshes my writer's soul. There's poetic justice in finding a great book that brings tears and laughter that make you connect with the characters, their circumstances and their "world." The satisfaction at the end of a book beats a lot, too. It chases away the blues and leaves you feeling hopeful about life and relationships and just everything.
How do new books make you feel? What's the best thing about them to you, as a writer or reader? Does a trip to the bookstore revive you?