A Little More Consistent
Currently reading:
Murder Bimbo by Rebecca Novack
Out There Screaming, edited by Jordan Peele
An American Sunrise by Joy Harjo
Books finished this week: 1
★★★☆☆
Where this book came from: Picked up at Crescent City Books during my Mardi Gras travels.
Why this book: My friend Becca——hi, Becca!——suggested it recently, and one other person recommended it right before or after she did. When I saw it on the shelf at the bookstore, it felt like fate!
Thoughts: I went back and forth on the rating for this one, and would probably give it more of a 3.25 or 3.5 if Goodreads allowed fractional ratings. (I know, I know, I need to switch to StoryGraph.) The premise of this book——a day in the life of six astronauts (well, four astronauts and two Russian cosmonauts) aboard a space station——was intriguing, but I ultimately didn’t fall in love with it the way I had hoped or expected. There were some ideas that really resonated and some prose that was genuinely gorgeous, but I found myself not looking forward to reading when I knew I was in the middle of another long rumination about Earth and our place in the universe and the long history of existence. There were some really beautiful moments and thoughts, but I was so much more engaged by the brief glimpses of backstory we got for each astronaut and cosmonaut, and I would have been much more into a more straight-forward novel with the same set-up. I’m not always a fan of quiet novels and this one just didn’t work for me.
Library updates:
I spent pretty much all this past week sick, which made me think about how my life tends to be all or nothing——an idea I’ve ruminated on before——and how I’d like to start making things a little more consistent. It also made me realize how quickly you can go through a box of tissues, but that’s besides the point in my reading blog.
Before I went to New Orleans earlier this month, I had written at least 100 words every single day since the start of the year. Some days it was tough, sometimes I counted extensive work emails as my words, but I felt incredibly accomplished for keeping that going. My plan had been to wake up every day on vacation and carve out time to write even 100 terrible words before carrying on with my day. I would’ve even taken 100 scribbly, drunken words after a long day of parades and beignets.
But, yeah, no, I just . . . gave up. Which I was a little said about at first, but which I pretty quickly accepted while away and now that I’ve officially been home over a week. Heading into the trip, skipping a writing day had seemed inconceivable——I had finally found my routine, I told myself, and it was working, so I was never going to give it up! I was going to end this year with at least 36,500 new words, because I was going to write at least 100 words all 365 days. Hooray!
I’m a little sad to lose the streak, but also pleased with the work I put in before the trip and excited to rebuild the habit. If anything, I learned that I could decide on a daily writing goal and stick to a routine, things I wasn’t sure I would be able to commit to. The 100-word mark usually felt very doable, even on the toughest days, so I know I’m capable of hitting it again. And I’m proud of myself for letting myself take a real vacation, and then letting myself mostly live on my couch for the week after while parade-and-plane plague ran rampant through my body.
I have a strong feeling to recapture, and I look forward to finding it again. Right before I left, I was writing one night and banged out what felt like an easy 1200+ words, digging into a scene in a horror project I’ve been toying with for a while now and just really not wanting to stop until I had gotten to the end of it, because I was having too much damn fun to call it quits for the night. I was getting tired, but if I hadn’t had work the next day, I think I easily could have kept going for hours more. Even when I paused for the night, I felt revitalized after writing, rather than exhausted. It felt like I was finally using writing as the pick-me-up and the source of entertainment I feel like it should always be, that I feel like it was when I was a kid.
“Writing is my superpower” is such a lame way to put how I started to feel a couple weeks ago, but it’s the phrase that came to mind after banging out a really fun scene featuring a group of friends talking to a demon. Character voices finally started to work; details and rules of the world fell into place that I hadn’t even realized needed to be sorted out. I felt strong and energized and excited and happy.
Sitting down at a computer or with a notebook to make up characters and have them do things——what isn’t just fun about that? Even when I have no idea what’s coming next, when I sit down and don’t know how to start the next writing session, I’ve finally gotten to the point where I can cast my thoughts out like a fishing line, latch onto whatever bobs to the surface, and just get going. I know I’ll find my way eventually. And if I don’t, I only have to get down 100 words, and then I can try again tomorrow.
Oh, and on the topic of reading: all or nothing, once again. I finished a book on the flight down to New Orleans, read barely anything the entire week I was there, and then devoured a second book on the flight home. Being sick this past week made it tough to be awake for a couple days, let alone focusing on words on the page. But, again, I’m letting myself enjoy the rest and focus on building toward a more balanced and sustainable habit. I love reading; I love books. I need to stop buying them, but I know I’ll get back into the habit of reading them soon.
Plus, I had to finally finish Heated Rivalry and catch up on season two of The Pitt, so it was still a busy week for me.
(And for anyone curious, I hit 12,145words in February, bringing me to a total of 36,162 words for 2026.)
Closing thoughts:
You’ll figure it out.
