Summer has been about for a little over one week, and I have to say it's as good as I thought it would be. It's been a long time since I have felt so relieved and free, I read and write daily, which is something I have been needing to do for quite some time. Problem is, I have yet to finish a book. :| Drat. Oh well, by the end of this summer I should have about eight or nine books "under my belt", so to speak.
I am working on a new story; I, of course, only write at night, very late, and with little cognitive function. So, I have no clue how good this story could be, or is, or isn't. Something I don't really need to think about...
I have no clue what it really is about, it's forming to be a look into a teenager/young adult's mind, and such, the effects of family on a person's mind, the effects of suburbia, the effects of urban living, everything. I don't know, it might be, well it kind of is semi-autobiographical. It's purely fiction, I just write what I know. And writing what I know will involve me writing semi-autobiographically.
Anyways. I have no clue what to talk about, or think about, or do.
I've noticed Mrs. Dalloway is phenomenal, but it is also a fairly hard read. It requires so much thought, and it is very hard to put it down, there are few opportune moments in which one can simply shut the book, and pick up reading in the morrow. There really are no breaks, it just keeps going.
Well, I would say 'I digress,' but there really was nowhere to digress from or towards for that matter...
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