I didn’t miss being away while I was away — I needed the break — but I am now ready to blog again, and I am excited.
As before, I’ll be mostly writing about books and reading, but other things will creep in.
In November, I will be joining NaNoWriMo. I won’t be writing a novel though, just using it to motivate me to work on my next project and reach a decent wordcount. I did finish writing a novel in August, and writing it was necessary because it showed me how it shouldn’t be written. Truly, I would not have seen what doesn’t work otherwise. So, not an total waste. I will be returning to it, but from a different angle. Let’s see how it goes.
I struggled somewhat with reading last year. My depression had never affected my reading before, but I had a longer than usual depressive phase last year that stretched to early this year, and it was hard for me to stay focused, which is so important for reading. Thankfully, I’m reading and enjoying books once again.
A few days ago, I reached my 2020 reading goal of fifty books. It’s a good number considering how addicted I am to social media. I have started making a list for next year, but my real goal is to read more thoughtfully and attentively. I should also spend less time on my phone. But blogging is good. Blogging is writing, which I want to do more of.
We are two days from November and soon it will be 2021. Let’s hope for a better year next year.
So, I spent practically the whole of Christmas eve in bed and I expected that this would be the case for the rest of Christmas. When I mentioned this on Facebook, some friends thought it was a great idea. I guess it could be a restful and even luxurious way to spend the holidays, but, really, only if it’s how you choose to spend the time. I was in bed because I couldn’t quite face the world. I felt sad and lonely and isolated. Read More »
It Was Not Death
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down—
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos—crawl—
Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool—
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine—
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some –
When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares—all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground—
But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—
Without a Chance, or Spar—
Or even a Report of Land—
~ Emily Dickinson
Song of a Manhattan Suicide Addict
By Yayoi Kusama
Swallow antidepressants and it will be all gone
Tear down the gate of hallucination.
Amidst the agony of flowers, the present never ends
At the stairs of heaven my heart expires in their tenderness.
Calling from the sky, doubtless, transparent in its shade of blue
Embraced with the shadow of illusion
Sounds of tears
Shed upon eating the colour of cotton rose
I become a stone
Not in time eternal
But in the present that transpires.
(A video installation at the Yayoi Kusama exhibition, National Gallery, Singapore.)
This review was first published in The Star on 9th July, 2017
Sad Girls: A Novel
Author: Lang Leav
Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing, 362 pages
‘Your first love isn’t the first person you give your heart to – it’s the first one who breaks it.’
That line, on the cover flap of Lang Leav’s debut novel Sad Girls, is a quote from the book, but also a prose poem (from Leav’s collection Lullabies).Read More »