I once heard an author's greatest fear was the blinking cursor on a blank page...
I'm no author, but I tend to agree.
Wonderful words were going to be written tonight, but alas, the empty computer screen is only urging me to type a bunch of crap and not one eloquent tidbit of wisdom.
I really wish I could help aspiring author Cora Lee with her playlist to finish her book. She needs songs about two people hiding their true selves from the world, but showing them to each other. Like Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors". I suggested LeAnne Rimes's "Looking Through Your Eyes" and Relient K's "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been".
I know. It's been that kind of night.
In other news, I feel like a complete donkey for having written the world's worst review for one of the best books written this year ("About Last Night" by Ruthie Knox). It received a 5/5 star rating, but my part was awful. Don't look for it, it's been nixed and will be reposted soon(ish) to hopefully do it justice. I want to write Ruthie an apology email, but that would probably strike her as odd since she likely isn't aware a crappy review of her stellar novel exists (existed?). Just in case - sorry, Ruthie!
I was so excited - and still am - about starting this blog that I immediately dashed to NetGalley and requested all kinds of novels thinking surely I wouldn't get many. I didn't. So I created a Goodreads, Amazon and Facebook account then started interacting with authors to show some movement and dedication. Then I got a few ARCs from a few fabulous authors and went back to Netgalley. Behold - some publishers started turning over the goods. Hooray! So I kept requesting, suffering from what I now like to call "click-it-itis". I found the request button and clicked it and clicked it and clicked it until my wrist probably developed some form of something ending in "itis". And then...
Hold the phone, where did the boat load of novels with a boat load of deadlines come from?? As usual, I have over-commited, but not too much - just a little. I think.
This overcommitment came to my attention a week or so back, so I'm sifting my way through the piles and hoping one publisher lets me keep reading while hoping another one never darkens my metaphorical email door again.
Of course, while over-committing I may as well join a book club with 3-5 awesomely rad ladies I met through Marie Sullivan Force's Book Talk Group and I should go ahead and raise my hand to receive ...
My entire web browser just shut down before my eyes. No joke. You read about murderous glares in historical fiction and my computer can attest that they are in fact real.
So I'm taking the hint and signing off for the night.
To sum this all up: I am insanely in love with my blog that receives several independent hits, yet I am fairly sure no one actually reads it; and we should really, really help Cora find songs for her writing playlist.