Been thinking a lot about books and writing this weekend.
Got my July issue of O magazine in the mail just before getting on a train for a weekend at my parents’ house. The theme of the issue is “summer reading.” Lots of thoughtful features, one of which is the first few lines of some famous books. Prompted me to want to pick up my dormant copy of Toni Morrison’s Jazz.
The magazine also talked about some kindred spirits in reading, people who like to escape into books. I don’t do that nearly as much as I used to and I need to bring it back. It also made me think more about the potential readers of my own book and how I want them to feel moved and to not want to look up from the pages because they are so absorbed.
Over Father’s Day dinner, I heard so many stories from my parents’ lives that I wondered if my second book shouldn’t cover some of that. There is some rich material there.
Then I had a conversation with a friend who has lost touch with her writing. Reminded me of a period of time when I left 15 years in daily journalism and became a producer/editor at Fox Sports and then the NHL. I did virtually no writing — not at work or home — and it took me a while to start craving it again. Now I do daily morning journaling, an almost daily blog entry, work on my book, and occasional essays and articles. Sometimes there’s nothing like a respite to get the juices flowing again.
Reading feeds it, too. The weekend fed it. I’m fed.