I know, I know! I am a horrible blogger. Life, quite simply has gotten away from me. There was a trip to Rome, a trip to go pick up my kids from their grandparents while we were in Rome, a trip up to San Francisco to march in the Pride Parade (I have proof! I’m in the Apple Pride commercial! 1:02), then went to Tahoe to spend time with another branch of the family tree. My reading has been sporadic and erratic all at the same time.
Remember how I wanted to read short stories this month? Well I managed two collections. I finished Neil Gaiman’s Smoke and Mirrors and Alice Munro’s Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage. I thought the Jeanette Walls book I had on my shelf was another collection, but it turned out it was her memoir (I’m horrible about reading the synopsis, but that’s a post for another day). I had The Lottery by Shirley Jackson on deck as well as Sherman Alexie’s The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, but I found myself just not in the mood.
The problem I found with short stories for me is this…I get too wrapped up in the stories so I want more. I’m greedy like that. I want more details, I want more plot. I don’t hate short stories, but I don’t find myself yearning to read one, for instance, like I find myself with historical fiction about Ancient Egypt or the 1920’s or books about snarky ladies who dole out violence to bad guys (I’m looking at you, Chloe Neil and Seanan McGuire).
I’m still planning on getting to Alexie and Jackson. I just don’t think planning a month around a genre or category, author, etc is the way I can do it. I start to feel it’s like an obligation, instead of exploring something new. I’m thinking of changing Monthly Explorations just to Reading Explorations so then I’m not putting myself in a box.