Wednesday, April 18, 2012

29 minus 8

I love to read.

There isn't a point in my life where I remember not loving to read.

I was the girl who carried around a book that wasn't assigned for class, and would bury my nose in it every free chance I had.  Before classes started, after getting a homework assignment done, after finishing a test.  I would bring a book to work with me and sit in the breakroom for 15 minutes smoking cigarettes and losing myself in a whole other world.

I've tried my hand at writing.  I've written poetry and random prose.  I've written really terrible fan-fiction.  I've tried to write a memoir, and a children's book.  None of these have ever really panned out.  I would like to write a combination of all of these and put them into a book, and a title it Love, Blue.  I would fill up notebooks with my purple colored ink.  I still have most of them locked in shoe boxes in my closet.

I am good with the real stuff.  I am really good at writing about what I've experienced, what I've felt, what I am able to touch and smell and feel and be.  It's the fiction I struggle with.  However, this is what I enjoy reading the most.  The stories that are not mine.

Favorite book: I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb.
Favorite Poet: Saul Williams

I collect books like some women collect shoes.  I firmly believe that you can never have too many bookshelves.

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