Tag: writing

Books

30 Day Book Challenge

It is winter.  January and February couldn’t go by faster (thank God one is the shortest month of the year) because they are, for me and many others, the most depressing months of the year.  Hence, I’ve been on a reading kick.

In addition to books, I’m frequently on the lookout for blogs to follow that I don’t end up hating three-quarters of the way through one post.  No offense to everyone who blogs, but there are very few of you who capture my attention and affection.  I understand I might perpetuate this exact problem, but I guess I’ll never know.

I like (and continue to try) reading the blogs of friends, for no other reason than to keep up with their lives, but even a personal connection to the blogger doesn’t guarantee my reading if the person is a boring writer or leads a boring life.

Anyway, I recently found this girl: http://chewyourlipstick.wordpress.com/.  I hope she doesn’t think I’m a freakish stalker or something, but so far, all she’s written about are books and nail polish, two things I happen to take an un-average interest in as well.

On her blog, she posed the 30-Day Book Challenge, something someone suggested to her.

I’m taking it under consideration.  I’m just nervous that I’m not going to be able to think of a book in each category.  My memory for books is a lot like my memory for holding grudges.  Things come to me at the weirdest times, and never on demand.

I realize if I do embark on such a regimented writing routine, some of my regular readers are going to check out for exactly 30 days.  That’s fine.  Once in a while, the teacher in me likes to have an assignment.

The Rules…*

Day 1: Favorite book
Day 2: Least favorite book
Day 3: Book that made you laugh out loud
Day 4: Book that makes you cry
Day 5: Book you wish you could live in
Day 6: Favorite young adult book Favorite Series
Day 7: Book that you can quote/recite
Day 8: Book that scares you
Day 9: Book that made you sick
Day 10: Book that changed your life
Day 11: Book from your favorite author
Day 12: Book that is most like your life
Day 13: Book whose main character is most like you Most surprising plot twist or ending
Day 14: Book whose main character you want to marry Author you used to love but don’t anymore
Day 15: First “chapter book” you can remember reading as a child
Day 16: Longest book you’ve read
Day 17: Shortest book you’ve read
Day 18: Book you’re most embarrassed to say you like
Day 19: Book that turned you on
Day 20: Book you’ve read the most number of times
Day 21: Favorite picture book from childhood
Day 22: Book you plan to read next
Day 23: Book you tell people you’ve read, but haven’t (or haven’t actually finished)
Day 24: Book that contains your favorite scene
Day 25: Favorite book you read in school
Day 26: Favorite nonfiction book
Day 27: Favorite fiction book
Day 28: Last book you read
Day 29: Book you’re currently reading
Day 30: Favorite coffee table book

*I can already tell I’m going to be changing/skipping some of these categories because so many are redundant or just boring.

Confessions

Grandiloquence

For the past day or so, I have been going back and forth via email, with a friend and former colleague, working on editing a paper for her PhD.  The subject of the paper is not necessarily one with which I am well versed but as I perform routine clean up, make suggestions, reword, and (admittedly) find myself looking up definitions of words I know I’ve heard before but haven’t ever actually used myself, I’m finding my own response to this challenge to be personally astonishing.  What I’m trying to say, in short, is that I think I might possess a little bit of articulatory genius.

I’m serious.

I sort of hate to admit this, but I’m experiencing what feels like a mental high which can only come from the strategic placement of the English language from fingertips, to computer keys, to screen.  Even as I type this confession, I realize the new level to which I have either risen or sunk.  In fact, I can already count on one hand the number of my regular readers who are no longer with me on this post (my sister Laura, for one, I’m sure).  I know.  I’m a total freak.  I’m experiencing a giddy sense of pleasure at getting into the head of someone, via Times New Roman size 12 writing, and helping her to say exactly what she wanted to say but couldn’t quite do on her own.  I’m sort of mentally tingling with the academic exchange of ideas on a topic for which I otherwise have no personal invested interest.

Wow. I feel like I’m getting to lead conditioning training for some professional sports team.  Only, I don’t care about the sport.  And I really don’t even follow the team.  But I just know they are going to be stronger because of me, and if they win more games this season, as a result of this one or two days of conditioning practice, I am going to count myself as partially responsible.  And I’m going to yell at my TV on the night they accept their trophy, or whatever, “I DID THAT!  That was me!  In part.”

Oh.  To be the man behind the man.

I just wish there was a way to solicit myself and make a living out of this.  I’m thinking, hey, Obama?  I know pretty much nothing about politics and world affairs, but considering that neither does 90% of America, you and I could really make a difference in the world with your speeches.  “Bestowed upon?”  Who says ‘bestowed upon’ outside of a church (and really, only at weddings)?  No no no, just say “given to me.”  “Forbearers?”  –Okay, I understand that you didn’t actually type this thing so it isn’t your fault that you didn’t catch the red squiggly line underneath that word, denoting that it does not in fact exist in the English language, according to Microsoft, which could have served as your first clue– but NObody says forbearers.  Just say, “The men and women who came before us.”

Hey people.  I’m a writer.  I can write.  In fact, I can very likely read your mind and re-write your thoughts in a way that brings a similar kind of satisfaction to finding a pair of lost keys.  So I’m just throwing it out there.  My services are for hire.  I can either work hourly or on a contingency basis, depending on the desired outcome of the document in question.

Dang.

Maybe I should go to law school.