Today I managed to delete 3 books from my Amazon wish list. Two hours later I had added a total of 41 to what already seems to be a never ending book inventory that only keeps growing.
I did the numbers. I added the total of books I've read and divided it between the last two years to estimate my current reading rate. On average I read 13 books a year that means that it would take me 15 (fif-teen) years to finish with my actual list. This is not taking into consideration new books I may decide to add along the way. Discouraging or motivational? I'm still undecided.
I also learned that Ontology is not the same as Epistemology which is also different from Hermeneutics who by the way is not related to Hermetics.
Giordanno Bruno is the first -and so far only- writer on my list to have been banned by the church. He also got burnt by them.
Well, that's not entirely accurate. I did add today Poem of the Man-God which I am dyyyyyyying to read because apparently it was a banned book and now it isn't because well, we all have the right to change our minds. I hear ya' fellows, leave it to this girl to have some empathy on your decision making processes.
I ended up ordering 6 books that include Marvin Minsky, my first Faulkner (ever!) and Nora Ephron because...Nora Ephron!
This one-themed day concluded with Adaptation. A movie I find both fascinating and genius but that is Charlie Kaufman, right?
An amazingly productive day if I'm able to dismiss the fact that I did not do what I was supposed to be doing which is writing my first novel.
(did I just type that OUT LOUD!?)
My first novel! It's so huge and big for me that I keep trying to convince myself to take it easy, this is a first attempt to try out a creative outlet I have been eager to try ever since I was little.
Most likely it'll stay just like that and Random House won't come knocking on my door to publish my book; but instead of being comforting this thought is only making the process harder. I'm paranoid that my family will be the only ones to want to read the book. I would be happy about it but the image I get when I picture this scenario is that it will only make my aunts and uncles think I'm some sort of morally ambiguous hippie.
I'm surrendering though.
I'm diving into the creative and fertile void. Hopefully a novel will come out the other end.