Writing

Time was, this blog was for writing, though it has of late devolved into something more like transcribing.  Though nobody has been irreparably harmed, it is something of a loss.

I checked out and then started rereading Don DeLilllo's White Noise this last Sunday.  The plan was that it was gonna be for a book club, but then I discovered that the club meets the day after I get back from guys' weekend up at the lake, and it may just conflict with Downton Abbey, as well.  I didn't remember liking White Noise  that much.  I read it maybe half my life ago, and I figured that if I didn't like it that much then, odds were I wasn't gonna like it that much now.  So I should tell you I've been pleasantly surprised.  There is much in the book that is just plain silly, yes, I'll grant it that, but DeLillo just plain old writes good.  Like he's been practicing or something.  Which should come as no surprise, as he is in fact an actual writer, who strings together works in a becoming fashion quite frequently.

Maybe not every day, but often enough. Gotta keep practicing.