How can a book be so well written but then ultimately pretty boring? How does that happen? How can I stop that from happening. Is it having a fully fleshed out world but nothing much going on in it?
I just got done reading a book called Ink and Sigil. The writing was awesome, the characters were great, the world building was *chefs kiss* but I was bored. I was bored a third of the way through, half way through and then near the end I just wanted it to be over.
Yet I liked the characters and I liked the world, I think it just goes to show how important a page turning plot is to me. I say to me, because I know a lot of people like meandering stories or slow burns. I’m not really one for it, unless it’s a ghost story with the promise of a juicy story coming. I’m talking ghost gossip in the ranks of keeping up with the kardashians if the kardashians were poltergiests.
Imagine being possessed by a kardarshian? In the future, rather than people being possessed by demons or victorian ladies (so many victorian ghosts) they’re possessed by kim kardashian?
“So, tell me from the start how it began?”
The lady sat across from me shuffled, her legs crossed one way and then the other more times than her hands patted her knees and her eyes flicked to her husband.
“It was the selfies,” she all but whispered.
Her husband nodded, his eyes not leaving the lip gloss stained carpet. “Then the cushions.”
The woman stifled a cry, pushing her fingertips into the corners of her eyes instead. “She started to push cushions into the back of her pants and up her jumper.” She stroked a hand through already finger dragged hair. “First it was just the throw cushions, you know, small ones. Then it got worse… soon she found California kings and…”
“And we don’t even know where she got those,” her husband finished for her.
Ahahahahahaha. Is that cruel? I hope it’s not cruel! But the idea of someone being possessed by a kardashian and it leading them to leaving lip gloss stains on the ground, endless selfie taking and pillow padding… well, it gave me a chortle.
I can’t even blame the sugar today because I’ve had none. Oh, tell a lie, I ate a peep. I always feel like a monster eating peeps. They’re just little peeps! Such cute little chicky looking sweets.
I think I might start writing again soon. I’m starting to get that pull, or is it a push, towards continuing a story. It might actually be the continuing rather than starting something fresh that’s holding me back. Nah, probably not, I’m just holding myself back.
But I was talking to my friend, an incredibly talented artist, about how old work can just feel like such a drag. I just have so much old work to go back to. And I hope I will. So many half finished stories. I hate thinking about it but sometimes I can’t help but wonder how different things could have been if I’d been medicated sooner and been able to finish all those stories. Or maybe I’d have never started them at all?
Even so, I need to crack on. I’m 34 now, so I’m no spring chicken! A summer chicken possibly, but thankfully not a winter turkey. I’m hungry now but I don’t know what for. Yes, I do, I want roast potatoes. Yeeesssss. Okay, those are going on my list of things that I want to cook this week.
Although we haven’t been grocery shopping properly in weeks. We subscribe to Hello Fresh which is pretty awesome for two mentally unwell adults who don’t want to survive on take out alone. It takes out all the mental tomfoolery of meal planning and prep and boom ingredients alone and recipe cards. So I still need to be doing something that becomes a routine nightly, but it isn’t too much that my thoughts mush together and brain shuts down. Rubbish, I know. But, if you know you know.
Anyway, I hope you’re doing well. 🙂