Sunday started out cool and sunny, a wonderful 60 degrees.
By lunchtime, the sun had disappeared, the wind started blowing, and the rains began.
It’s pouring rain right now, and I’ve cooked up and consumed chicken and eggplant for my midday meal.
Dinner will be something light, maybe a salad and soup, or my favorite yogurt concoction (vanilla yogurt with fresh whole blueberries and a handful of granola).
I’m reading Fledgling, by Octavia E. Butler, playing on the Internet, and watching television (not all at the same time).
It’s back to work tomorrow for me, because I’m feeling lots better.
May you all have a wonderful Monday and a great week.
It’s 1976, and a newly married African-American woman named Dana celebrates her twenty-sixth birthday by time traveling to a Maryland slave plantation in 1815.
On her first visit back to 1815, she saves a young boy named Rufus from drowning.
On her next visit back in time, Dana learns that the child she saved is her kin, and…
Well, I’m not going to give any more away.
Not right now, anyway.
I’m also in the middle of a short story, Who’s Afraid of Nero Wolfe?
I’ve always been in love with words.
As a child, I spent many happy hours reading, mostly fiction.
I discovered Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie in high school, and my addiction to books and reading became full blown.
Now that I’m (much) older, I try to read as many different kinds of books and magazines as possible, but reading mystery stories is still my drug of choice.
This blog shall be about my reading habit, my love affair with words and the way authors arrange words to tell their stories.
Here’s what I’m reading right now:
- Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, June 2008. This issue contains a beautiful remembrance to Edward D. Hoch.
- Kindred, a book by Seattle writer Octavia E. Butler.
- The May 5, 2008 issue of The New Yorker, which features an Annie Proulx story, “Them Old Cowboy Songs.”
Last night, I finished Killer Heat by Linda Fairstein.
All of the above titles are in book and magazine form, but I must admit that I am a slave to the internet.
In the past few years, my reading of real books has decreased a bit, I’m ashamed to admit, because I’m so enthralled by the words written on blogs, web sites, and news channels. I rarely read an actual newspaper any more.
So I will also be blogging about what I read on the web, blogs and web sites that focus on reading, words, writers, stories, and new books.