Sunday, January 5, 2014

The memories are gone. The aftershocks live on/ But with nothing to remember, is there nothing left to grieve?

Shall we talk about 2013? I think it will go on the record as a good year. A stressful, busy, hectic, crazy, good year. Only if we look at my life as a whole, though (year of the amazing apartment, year of great professional growth and opportunities, year of flying higher and stronger with less fear, year of Josh moving in, year of other lovely developments). If we look at it in terms of the project, however, it was a pretty pathetic year. Let's be honest folks.

First, I only read 100 list books this year. I took nearly two months off from the project when I went through a re-reading kick (all the Mary Russel books, seriously; I have nothing to say for myself), a non-fiction kick, and a re-reading of my own writing (humbling and amusing, all at once). I didn't hit the 100th book for the year till December 23rd (Billy Bathgate, which overall I liked and seems like should have been made into a film staring Leonardo DiCaprio circa 20000; it was 538 for the project, which feels rather pathetic to write.

Second, I didn't read any of the crazy long ones this year. I just, didn't. I have nothing to say for myself about this, either. No A Dance to the Music of Time (2944 pgs),  no The Man Without Qualities (1824 pgs), no Uwe (1703 pgs).

So, here's to a better 2014: more books, longer books, keeping up the other good stuff, and as Marmee would say, fashioning my character. I guess that's what every year should be about, becoming a better version of you, at least in some way.



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