I really suck at this.

But heeeyyy, I finished both of the books I was working on...!

That is to say, I finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. I thought it was really excellent. Getting into the head of someone with autism is probably not the easiest thing to do. I know I'd be sitting on the floor while everything about it was level with the treetops, but maybe that's because I haven't researched it. Anyway, the point is that I couldn't do it and I respect this Mark Haddon guy. He did a pretty good job. I liked that with the way it was written from first-person perspective (and maybe because Christopher had autism and couldn't communicate very well), I got a really great insight into slang, etc., that is sorely lacking in most novels.

I also finished Bluebeard's Egg and Other Stories by Margaret Atwood, and I have fallen in love. I always knew books did things to me, BUT THIS WOMAN. I've been kind of pushed toward her for a long time, but I don't call myself a feminist and I was a little bit jaded-- I'LL ADMIT IT-- because I didn't want to be classified as pretentious. And let's face it. It's a little bit pretentious. But I can't help it because she is... everything I want to be.

Alright, I said it. I want to be Margaret Atwood when I grow up. She writes powerful women, and even if she isn't writing powerful women, she is powerful, and I really love her. I wasn't even distracted by first-person narratives at the end of the book like I had been to begin with. This is a good sign, folks. This means I'll give her another try when I have the chance. I'm pretty excited about it.

Next up for the bookclub is Life of Pi by Yann Martel (I bought this version with really beautiful illustrations in it!), and next up for me on my own is At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O'Brien. Irish lit, what what.

Atwood fan?! I am terribly cliche.

I am so tired.

I think that instead of saying I'm going to commit to write in this thing every day, I'll just commit to writing in it when I remember. It'll be several times a week, of course, but every day is just pushing it. Even if I read during the day I'm hopeless at remembering mostly everything. I have no idea what my problem is. I'm just busy, I guess.

Anyway, still making good time in both The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon according to the schedule in the book club as well as Bluebeard's Egg and Other Stories by Margaret Atwood.

I'm a fan of Atwood now. Any book has fluke quotes that remind me of cartilage ripping open in my chest, but I keep running across them in these short stories. "There was a thin, elegant brown girl behind it, in lime green, Rasta beads, and Vogue make-up, coiled like spaghetti around the phone." She is brilliant. She moves me and makes me want to be a better writer. This is what books are supposed to do.

I am inspired, and I love it.

So here's the thing...

I am terrible at reading on days that I have off work. I don't know what it is, but when I'm at work I can truck through 100+ pages, but when I have the day off I just don't do it. It's completely backwards, but whatever works. I also have serious trouble reading when I work on 3rd shift, so for the most part I read Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and for the rest of the week I just do nothing. My brain is going to atrophy.

I did read tonight/this morning, though. If nothing other than to keep up with the bookclub on InsaneJournal I forced myself through a bit more of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon and I'm going to go ahead and get today's ~20 pages out of the way too. Nothing else in my Margaret Atwood book yet, but maybe I'll get around to that tonight. I hope so, I need to expand my literary horizons.

At least I'm learning British slang through this Mark Haddon book. The Brits call the stove a "cooker." That makes so much more sense than stove. Good grief.

Okay I legitimately forgot to write yesterday.

But I did read! So, I mean, although I didn't actually write anything at least I was making progress. Right? RIGHT? Thank you.

I'm only reading about 20 pages a day in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon but that's because the bookclub I formed on InsaneJournal is sort of styled around the idea that people are busy and they don't have as much time to read as they'd like. It's broken down into a chapter a day (or if the chapters are wonky and short like in this one then it's broken down into ~20 pages per day), and I kind of love it.

I've also been pushing my way through my Margaret Atwood book and I must say, what I wrote about it the last time is true. I'm much more interested in it now that the characters are written in third person. I just can't get into first person true (or, what seems true) narratives. Things like Twilight (by Stephenie Meyer) don't bother me because they're obviously fantasy, but I guess I just can't find anywhere to connect with the first person style Atwood used in the beginning that seems so real.

But anyway, I've gotten through Loulou's tales (yesterday) and the one called Uglypuss (my favorite so far!) and I've just started into Bluebeard's Egg. I'm super tired right now (at 4:35am), but I'm thinking about reading a little more before bed. This is a good sign! If I'm willing to sacrifice sleep to read a bit more, that means somebody's doing something right for me.

À tout à l'heure!

Argh.

Yes, I know. No dice for the past two days, mes amis. I just couldn't bring myself to read. I'm not sure what exactly was holding me back, but I couldn't do it.

But! Today I did read, kind of a lot. I'm doing my bookclub on InsaneJournal.com, so I read the first two days' worth of assignments on The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon (more on that later-- but so far I'm absolutely in-fucking-love with it!) today AND I read almost fifty more pages with Margaret Atwood.

And I like her better this time.

You know, as opposed to the last time I opened the book. I finally started getting into a little bit that I guess I can relate to-- or at least somewhat. Maybe I'm just relating to characters who live in my head, but either way it's more comfortable for me now. Actually--

I just realized. Maybe I'm more comfortable with it now because things are being written in third person. Her first person "he was to me" stuff makes me uneasy, but now we're talking about a woman named Loulou and I feel better.

What a strange revelation. Either way, I think I'll be reading quite a bit more of it tomorrow. Woo! Maybe I should take weekends off all the time...

So. Atwood, right?

I KNOW, I know, I blog at strange hours. I have the most upside down sleep schedule of anyone I know, but it keeps me on my toes. My blog now, at just-past-seven-o'clock-Sunday-morning, is actually the blog for Saturday. Keep up, kids, let's hold it together. Choo-choo!

Anyway.

So I didn't make much progress with Atwood this time around. She's the boss, applesauce, but I don't know how much I dig her style. I like reading between the lines as much as the next person, but I feel like I should do a little bit more research on her life before I can actually know what the hell she's writing about. So far all I'm getting are feelings of isolation.

Oh, and that female empowerment thing. Good ol' Wikipedia says she was well known as a feminist so I must be heading in the right direction. Watch, I say all this about not understanding or knowing what's going on and when I'm finished with it I'll be in love. I, dear friends, am a sheep.

OH, AND GUESS WHAT! Jurassic Park was on the Sci-Fi channel tonight. I shit you not. The book was way better. Tch, as if that was even a question...

Whoops, I forgot to blog yesterday.

Okay, I'll be honest. I didn't forget, I was just too drunk. You're welcome.

But I did finish Jurassic Park. See, my day wasn't completely useless. I thought it was excellent. I mostly just read at work, and this one guy from somewhere in Wisconsin came in and asked if I was reading it for the first time, so we got into a little discussion about how great Michael Crichton is. He suggested I read Eaters of the Dead, one of Crichton's less-known novels, and I promised to look into it. I also explained my Contact (by Carl Sagan) theory and he agreed that they were both science writers and that's how I would come to that conclusion. He was a nice guy. I should have given him a better price.

I digress.

I finished it, like I said, and I loved it. The velociraptor scene did not disappoint, folks. Hooray! That kid, Tim, he's a smart little guy, isn't he? I was into dinosaurs when I was a kid too but that's just above and beyond. If I were stuck in Jurassic Park I'd probably want him by my side instead of Dr. Grant. Or not. I'd be that other kid, Lex, and I'd just whine about being hungry the whole time.

And without writing out a real spoiler, let me just say that that Hammond fella got what he deserved. Kind of. Why didn't the kids seem more upset about it?

I almost wish it was possible to create dinosaurs from DNA found in bugs in fossilized amber, and then I remember that they would KILL US ALL and decide against it. Maybe just the herbivores, y'know?

Next on the list is Bluebeard's Egg and Other Stories by Margaret Atwood. I've never read any Atwood. Hope I'm not on the wrong path.