Writing, reading and summer

God, it’s great to get into that writing burn, when every thing just pours out of your fingers and onto the keyboard with no trouble and no effort. Even better when I manage to silence the internal editor. For the first time I’ve been able to leave question marks for terms I don’t know instead of stopping, logging onto the net and trying to find what I want. A great killer of the burn. 4,200 words written in two days. This is a good effort for me.

I belong to two reading groups. One is a bit serious and intellectual and one is girly and fun. At the last serious one we talked about Peter Goldsworthy’s Three Dog Night. He’s an Australian writer and a finalist in the Miles Franklin Award. I liked it. There were problems with it, but his descriptions of the desert and the complexity of skin relationships in the Aboriginal community were great.

The girly group read Michel Faber’s Crimson Petal and the White on my recommendation because I said it was erotic and these girls want erotic! Much to my mortification (no, not really) they didn’t find it erotic at all. I was hot the whole time I was reading it. Only goes to show etc, etc. They did like it at least.

In the last week I’ve read Diana Gabaldon’s latest tome A Breath of Snow and Ashes, Linda Howard’s Kiss Me While I Sleep, Robin Schone’s The Lover and I’m in the middle of Mathilde Maddern’s Peep Show. And I dip in and out of Best New Erotica 4 and Foreign Affairs: Erotic Travel Tales edited by Mitzi Szereto.

To be read in order of priority is Tim Winton’s The Turning, Lilly Brett’s Too Many Men and Emma Holly’s Strange Attractions. Oh, and of course Madelynne Ellis’ The Passion of Isis. Looking forward to that.

But I want remittance girl to write some more stories! Please, please please, rg. If you haven’t done so already go directly to her web site and read The Central Registry. Think about it next time you get a knock on the door on Sunday morning from your least favourite religious fanatic.

There’s jasmine right outside the sliding door near where I write, and it's twined through the just about to flower New Dawn climbing rose. I can hear koels in the distance and I think it’s about to rain. Daylight Saving starts tonight. Light till eight. I love it.