The past few months have been a funny ol’ time. Maybe it was because of Christmas, which has a tendency to bring out my starry-eyed childhood nostalgia. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I read a number of books in a row that were a return to characters or places I already knew.
I started reading The Name of the Wind in Paris, of all places. There was a small library of books from previous guests at the apartment we were staying in, and The Name of the Wind was one of the few in English. As luck would have it, I had been waiting for a good time to start into The Kingkiller Chronicle.
As far as writing the book goes, I have not been particularly productive of late, but this kind of distance at least always allows me a sense of perspective. How far I’ve come, how far there is still to go (I believe the phrase is “miles to go before I sleep”). This little break has also developed a sense of hunger that makes me itchy to pick up a pen and scribble away for days.
Nothing like looking back at January’s resolutions and seeing just how I fared over the last twelve months. I’ll be honest: I’ve never lived particularly well by my New Year’s Resolutions, but that’s not to say I haven’t lived well through 2013.