Strahov Theological Hall - Original Baroque Cabinet
(What my room does not look like.)
(What my room does not look like.)
A long time ago I made a pact with myself that I would review in some manner every book I read. This accomplishes several things.
1) I'm forced to think about what I've read and come to some sort of conclusion.
2) I don't waste my time on books I don't think are worth reviewing.
3) I have a good catalog of my book list, changing taste, and hopefully maturing opinions.
4) I get to bore all my blog readers to death.
Life has made reviews difficult lately, so I have a monstrous stack lined behind my computer waiting for review. The following days (perhaps weeks) will include some tedious bookishness, but I also want to talk about seeing Les Miserables (swoon), various Shakespeare plays, multiple movies, and something squibish on our trip to California.
Because of business with other writing projects, don't hold your breath for any original posts (not that you would). I'm going to try and post twice a week...possibly more or less depending on what I've been reading or watching lately.
So if there is a flurry of activity and it all seems a bit dull it's because I'm trying to fulfill my pact and keep up with myself. I've had doubts about continuing this blog. Its continued existence hinges on the personal benefit I get from having to think through things like book reviews.
Yesterday I decided to reorganize the various shelves of books that dominate our room. Volumes from Borders' sales were still sitting around homeless. Carrying around stacks of books made me giddy and I reached for a pen and paper to create a current book list. I finished with 150 titles. Yeah...there might be a lot of book reviews in the future.
Somehow, no matter how I arrange my books...by author, subject, title, height, or color, there's still not enough shelves.
Other recent activities include reorganizing my life and priorities, involving a great deal of painful decisions. making lengthy lists, schedules, and a shiny new budget. How am I possibly going to fit in all those books? I have a book to get to the publisher! And when is my story going to get done anyway? And the Romeo/Juliet/Hamlet screenplay is sad and lonely, scrawled in a chiastic structure in the closet.
In some ways it feels like summer hasn't begun, but so much has happened since winter it can't possibly be anything but the end of summer. Next week is September. Take a deep breath. Life will go on...


















