I'm Insanely Jealous
I read the journals of several people, many of whom are writers and editors. It is, for me, a bit of contact with the world outside my door. I can follow how other writers are doing on their project, and take comfort in the fact that I'm not the only one facing all of the common problems of writers (because really, if I was the only one facing them, then they wouldn't be common problems, would they?).
And I not jealous of the professional triumphs and success of the writers and editors who's journals I read. In fact, I take a lot of inspiration from those journal entries.
I read the journals of many people who are not in the publishing industry. Most (though not all) of them are people I know personally, and it is a good way to keep up with them when I can't always be there in person. Reading about their good and bad days helps to keep my own little life in perspective.
Again, not at all jealous of their success and happiness. Again, I take pleasure in seeing them succeed, and draw inspiration from their lives to be a better person.
What am I jealous of?
The number of books my LJ friends seem to be able to read. Honestly, I'm lucky if I manage to get through two books a month. There are people on my friends list who read two books a week, or two books in four days. Or faster.
And I know that these are busy people, with their own lives. They have families, jobs, writing projects, and social lives. They go to the store daily, cook dinner nightly, and visit family monthly.
In short, they are just as busy as I am.
Yet it seems like at least once a week I read a journal that goes something like this:
I had some time to kill on my shuttle flight between Minneapolis and Madison, so I bought a copy of War and Peace at the airport. As the plane landed in Wisconsin and I turned the last page, I thought I might finish the OED tonight at bedtime to relax
Well, okay, maybe not that bad, but several of them are finishing five, six, twelve books a month.
Just so you know, I'm jealous. Don't get me wrong, I love the lot of you to pieces, but I'm still jealous.
Just so you know.
In Peace
Michael
And I not jealous of the professional triumphs and success of the writers and editors who's journals I read. In fact, I take a lot of inspiration from those journal entries.
I read the journals of many people who are not in the publishing industry. Most (though not all) of them are people I know personally, and it is a good way to keep up with them when I can't always be there in person. Reading about their good and bad days helps to keep my own little life in perspective.
Again, not at all jealous of their success and happiness. Again, I take pleasure in seeing them succeed, and draw inspiration from their lives to be a better person.
What am I jealous of?
The number of books my LJ friends seem to be able to read. Honestly, I'm lucky if I manage to get through two books a month. There are people on my friends list who read two books a week, or two books in four days. Or faster.
And I know that these are busy people, with their own lives. They have families, jobs, writing projects, and social lives. They go to the store daily, cook dinner nightly, and visit family monthly.
In short, they are just as busy as I am.
Yet it seems like at least once a week I read a journal that goes something like this:
I had some time to kill on my shuttle flight between Minneapolis and Madison, so I bought a copy of War and Peace at the airport. As the plane landed in Wisconsin and I turned the last page, I thought I might finish the OED tonight at bedtime to relax
Well, okay, maybe not that bad, but several of them are finishing five, six, twelve books a month.
Just so you know, I'm jealous. Don't get me wrong, I love the lot of you to pieces, but I'm still jealous.
Just so you know.
In Peace
Michael