It's not all Kung Fu
these days. I read quite a bit anyway, but, as I explained, since I spend a lot of time with an infant on my chest, I have had a lot of opportunity to read. I read a lot of novels. Recently, I have been on a streak reading a bunch of kinda fluffy, uneven flotsam. Decided I needed a John D. MacDonald to reset my equilibrium. MacDonald's Travis McGee novels were written forty years ago, but they are still zingers, and I am only recently discovering them and working my way through them. Currently on The Quick Red Fox
. If I were to make another blog, a companion to this one in that I want to shout my enthusiasm for something from "the rooftops," I would make a Travis McGee blog. What I'd do is, I'd make a post every time I read some bit of MacDonald's prose that made me exuberant with joy, that made my heart ache at the beauty of it. Only, I'd be posting, like, every three seconds. The man did things with words that makes me jealous, and I'm not normally jealous of other writers, or at least haven't been since I was a kid.
Best thing on MacDonald and his creation I have ever read is here
Labels: books, John D. MacDonald