Unfortunately, I have yet to name my novel. I mean, some parents pick their kids’ names before they’re born, and some wait. So it’s all good. I’ll come up with a good one. I hope.
There’s an ongoing metaphor bouncing around right now, a parallel between American slavery of the mid- to late 1800s and Melanie’s life. It’s fun. Did I mention I’ve missed this?
I haven’t had time to write. I really haven’t. I know you probably don’t believe me, but you totally should. I was getting into the really awful habit of putting all my focus onto one class at a time, and cramming for the other ones at the very last minute. Don’t ever do that; it helps no one. I’m back on track now, though, maybe even a little bit ahead. So I’m using my breathing room as writing time. Yay writing time!
I need to go to Border’s. I have a gift card from Christmas I haven’t used yet. There was no need to, when I had ten new books to plow through. I read about eight-and-a-half of them in three weeks, so I could scrape up some useful extra credit in my AP lit class. I just finished the tenth one about a week or so ago. And I’ve already read one of them over again (this book, which many of you would probably find disturbing and horrible if you dared to try and read it).
I need more of this author, as well as more of the books in this series.
Maybe I’ll get my mom to go with me this weekend. It’s kind of difficult to read and write a novel at the same time, but just having unread books sitting on my nightstand is comforting. I know, that’s weird. Deal with it. I have a list of books I absolutely have to read before I die. I’m not planning on dying anytime soon—this theme means nothing.
Love&hugs, Meg♥
For a plethora of book recommendations, click here. (Dear Em, YouTube is dumb and won’t let me post comments on your videos. Sad. Love&hugs&stuff.)
Meg Dowell Writes 