In the last few weeks, I have been on a diet of writing books. Shelves full of t0-be-read books lie forlorn, ignored. As the year comes to a close, I find myself unable to bring myself to read fiction. Travel books make me sad, longing for a plane ticket.
So at this time of the year, as day fades into night before twilight has even registered its presence, I find myself retreating into old favourites. Writing guides that discuss the writing life, talk about markets, the pain and thrill of the publishing process are what I’m finding comfort in these days. I’ve read these books many times before and I still enjoy them with each new reading. When I’m done with them, I feel comforted, reassured that my decision to try and eke out a living with words was not wrong. I can do it.
Writing books (and poetry) are my chicken soup. Add a slice of Christmas cake (or three!) and goodwill towards all men becomes a real possibility.
Hope you’ve had a good Christmas and here’s to a wonderful 2012 with lots of books (and cake).