Life · The Novel

The deep dark past…

Two nights ago I had a dream about my past.  It was vivid and realistic and when I woke up I thought everything that had transpired had actually happened in real life.  It didn’t, and I woke up shaken and alone (because Prince Endymion is away on business).

In keeping with the past theme, I read some of the MySpace blogs again and threw bits and pieces into the novel.  I didn’t write much yesterday, maybe 100 words or so, but it’s a marked improvement from the 0 words per day that I had been writing.

I’m haunted by the me that was, by those blogs, by everything that happened back then.  I hope it makes for a great novel to sell.

Friday night I had a random thought about a book called House of Leaves.  It was a book I had never read but a friend of mine read it.  While he was reading it, he would tell me about the happenings in the story.  It scared me silly.  I never read the book because just his retelling of it scared me.  Well, because I’m not a giant pussy anymore, I decided to order the book (Thanks Amazon Japan for actually having copies in stock!).  The book came Saturday morning. (Thanks Prime! Seriously, you guys, I love Amazon.)  I started reading it at 10AM and put it down at 10PM.  My day was mostly reading.  I took a couple breaks to eat lunch and a scanty dinner, take a shower, and walk the dog.  Since the prince is gone (and yesterday was Saturday), I did not need to participate in any adult type behaviors beyond keeping myself (and the dog) clean and fed.

This book is around 600 pages.  I read about 400 pages yesterday.  More than Navidson’s story (which is the story of a family who moves into a house which is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside) I was so compelled by Johnny Truant’s tortured life story and how Navidson’s story slowly begins to consume him.  I could not put the book down, but yes, it scared me.  Being scared whilst home alone is the worst.  Last night my sleep was rough, disjointed.  I can’t remember any nightmares, but I awoke in pain.  Anyway, I did this to myself or rather the book did this to me (but really I did it to myself because I decided to read this book).

Anyway, I guess that’s all.  A book is making me crazy.  I guess that’s better than my cycle making me crazy right?

Dear Naru,
I hope you read this so you can text me, and tell me to stop being dumb.

Sincerely,
Usagi

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