Reading, Writing, No Arithmetic

She lives!

Lately, I’ve been sinking my teeth into books by A. Lee Martinez and Nora Roberts. (One of my co-workers gave me a bag full of Nora Roberts and Danielle Steel, and even though they aren’t exactly to my taste, it’s not like I have endless money to throw around on securing new books.) Monster and Gil’s All-Fright Diner by A. Lee Martinez get two very enthusiastic thumbs up from me. I’m also dying for the release of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, and since last we met, I’ve devoured the remaining couple of Jacqueline Carey’s books that I hadn’t managed to finish. I love her to pieces and I totally don’t mind doing anything to support her writing more books.

On my own writing front, I’m approximately 26,000 words into the initial first draft of what I’m lovingly calling Four Bitches and a Funeral; a story of four sisters and how their relationship changes after their father dies. (Oh shut up. It’s not a total chick story.)

And now I must away to my “real life”.

Nobody puts baby in a corner. HAHA — yeah, right.

I’ve been uberbusy, but I’ve been reading and writing as the mood takes me. Two books highly recommended: Santa Olivia by Jacqueline Carey, and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Jane Austen and Seth Graham Smith. *huge thumbs up*

I’m working on a project that’s alternating between the titles “The 4 Bitches of the Apocalypse” and “Four Sisters and a Funeral”, but… it’s taking it’s sweet time.

And now I’m off to bed.

WTF, Borders, indeed.

They didn’t have the following:
The Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman
Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches’ Guide to MANTITTY Romance Novels by Sarah Wendell & Candy Tan

OR any of the other assorted things I was jonesing for.

So, really, Borders, if you want me to use your stinking 30% off, good only in-store, coupons, PLEASE TO BE HAVING THE SHIT I WANT WHEN I WANT IT.

I wound up with Cleopatra’s Perfume by Jina Bacarr instead. Not what I was looking for, but… *sigh*

BORDERS!FAIL. EPIC!BORDERS!FAIL!

(And in lesser news, I am writing. *pats self on the back*)

So, okay, everyone knows I’m a Reader. I devour books and spit them back out. I own entirely too many books and I’m always collecting more because, let’s face it, READING IS GOOD.

That being said, there’s a break in my brain right now.

E-books and regular books.

I know that regular books kill forests and that kind of bugs me, but at the same time, I love the feeling of a book in my hands. I like knowing that I can just put a bookmark in when my hands/wrists fall asleep and it will still be there when I come back to it. I love the smell of the ink on the paper, the weight and substance of the book in my hands. It’s something I’ve become accustomed to and expect.

E-books, while more convenient being in the digital platform (no killing of trees for paper, no fading of ink due to the book sitting in the sun, and so on), just… don’t feel right. They’re more awkward for me, because I read so quickly, and sometimes, the down arrow on my computers can’t keep up. They also don’t have that comfort factor that I associate with physically substantive books (the smell, the physicality, etc.), and they’re just as expensive as going out, killing a few trees, and having a real book.

So I’m torn.

Can we leave it at ‘a book is a book is a book’?