This is where all the thoughts that are too short for their own post tend to gather together and get drunk trying to outdo one another.
Tonight I am going to see the new Avengers movie. I am pretty excited about that. I’m not really a fan-type person (I’ve tried, but I’m just too flighty and self-absorbed), but I have always enjoyed the assorted MCU movies. Especially the last few. They’ve been hilarious (Thor: Ragnarok, I’m looking at you!).
I probably won’t be writing about it here since I don’t want to ruin it for anyone. Also, I think that a friend of mine might already be working on a review. I’ll post a link to it on Twitter when it hits the web.
What I can post here are book reviews. That’s probably more up my alley anyway — The Child in Time, for one. I’m in the middle of reading How to Stop Time by Matt Haig, Sleeping Beauties by Stephen and Owen King, Wolves of the Calla and the rest of the Dark Tower series … did I mention that my To Be Read pile is kind of huge?
I always feel a little guilty reading for pleasure. Especially when I have other work waiting on me … like editing. Do any other writers have this anxiety? Intellectually, I know it’s stupid, but I just can’t get past it. Which is strange because I have no guilt blogging or writing or journalling when I should be doing other things … like editing. But reading always feels like a leisure activity that should be put off until after the work is done.
Not to say that I don’t read. I do. A lot. I just have a massive guilt complex about it. I think I need to rewire my brain to see it as research or skill development instead of fun. No, that’s probably not a good idea either. Maybe just get the damned editing done? Who knows. It’s a pickle.
It is gorgeously sunny today. I think winter might finally be over. And you know what that means! That’s right, iced coffee, writing outside, and soon … road trips. Woot!