I'm Still Here

I've been neglecting my poor blog these past weeks, although I've been meaning to write. My blog has become like an old friend with whom I just haven't had time to sit down and catch up. And today I really am too busy to write anything interesting, compelling, controversial or funny.

What I've been doing: went to Portugal with my adoring husband for 8 days in October. Glorious! More on that when I have more time, plus photos!

The election: What can I say? There was no joy in mudville on election night around here. And when President-elect Obama chose Rahm Emanuel as chief of staff, the political compass was clearly pointing left. Bipartisanship my ass, thought I. But as the weeks have unfolded, I haven't seen any huge gaffes yet. He's keeping Gates on as Secretary of Defense, which I see as a pragmatic nonpartisan move. Hillary as Secretary of State? I'm not a fan of hers, but she's a lot more mainstream a candidate than I might have predicted he'd choose. I'm a little concerned (probably I should be alarmed) at his pronouncement that he's going to take action to "reverse climate change"... you have talent, Mr. President-elect, but even you can't reverse the climate.

And as a little aside on the whole global warming issue, I read about a study that indicated that emissions have leveled off or declined over the past couple of years. The news report said we shouldn't give too much credence to the study because the years in question were warmer than usual so people didn't use as much energy. Ummm, is it just me or is there some kind of circular logic going on here? My conclusion was that warmer temperatures=less energy consumption=better environment. But I digress.

What I'm reading: I finished Jose Saramago's Blindness while we were in Portugal. What a bizzare book. From a strictly writing/craft standpoint, the man is brilliant. From a story standpoint, he is a disturbed individual. I almost stopped reading in the middle of the book because of the outrageous violence and humiliation he makes his characters suffer. What kind of imagination comes up with that stuff? I did finish it but I can't recommend it, unless you're a writer and want to read great writing and don't care about the details of the sick story line.

Another little aside, on Saramago: He's an unreconstructed communist and hailed as Portugal's most important living writer. I was amused (but not surprised) to learn from someone we met in Portugal that Saramago actually lives in Spain because Portugal's taxes are so high. You can draw your own conclusions.

What else I'm reading: Stephen King's book On Writing. I've never read any of Stephen King's fiction because I'm such an elitist book snob. I usually hate popular fiction. It's part of my mysterious persona to like only literary writing. Having said that, I am loving this book. I like the way he writes, and he strikes me as the kind of guy you want to have over for dinner. His writing advice is practical and straightforward, his love and grasp of the craft are obvious, and I'm getting more out of this book than I ever expected. He says in the book that most of his longstanding readers seem to feel that a book called The Stand is his best work. So as soon as I finish On Writing, I'm going to read The Stand.

What I did this week: I pulled out an old short story I wrote, polished it up and sent it off to the Writer's Digest Short Short Story competition (1,500 words or less). I like what I wrote so I'm very happy that I finished it and submitted it.

What I'm doing the rest of the week: Eating turkey!