Our book club is officially in full swing, after finishing up House Rules by Jodi Piccoult, which I found entertaining but likened it too much to a Lifetime movie, we chose Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. I was a little apprehensive about this book, thinking that we had moved from one "chick book" to another, but I have to say that I was very much moved and entertained by this book. I won't spoil it, since we have our meeting on Tuesday to discuss over dinner followed by heading to the movies to watch the story play out on the big screen, but I know this was a wonderful novel by my physical reaction to this book.
You might be wondering, huh? Physical reaction? Sounds weird I know, but I do not know how else to explain it. It is strange, I find that when I finish a book, and if I really enjoyed it and was moved by the story, my body feels as if there is a hole in my chest, a small place where the breeze of the story that once moved through me lies still, and it leaves me with that strange feeling, like coming in from playing outside on a late summer evening into a still house. Maybe I am an unaware empath or something. Who knows.
Anyways, moving forward.
I enjoyed reading the author's notes on this book, about the research she did and the traveling to the museums, the books, and all the leg work that was involved, and reading this only cemented in me that I want, no wait, I need to write something. Ever since I read how Stephenie Meyers awoke from a dream and started writing scenes from the Twilight Saga during her sons' swim classes I have thought to myself, I can do that.
So, now that I am *gasp* 31 year's old, I think I need to start really taking stock of my life and what I want to accomplish. I have pretty much consider myself above adequate in most things that I pursue, which leaves me to believe that there still must be something I can be great at. Maybe I will get lucky and it will be writing, though I will not hold my breath. But I figure I will give it a shot.
Now...what to write about.
