I just realised what my problem is. I think too much. I'm just too busy wondering if something is proper and fitting (and even grammatically correct sometimes) to actually do it. See, even now, I wanted to remove that last line and start over again. Which is good, right? Wrong. If I had rubbed out that line, I would have had stared at the blank screen for about 30 seconds, said "screw it!" and went to bed.
Its what I've been doing for a long time now, atleast for a month now. I do write, but its the <140 character tweets. I had atleast half a dozen really good ideas for posts during the last week, but no. The weird inertia I had going kept me away. Sometimes I really wonder if I'm made out for a life on this planet!
p.s. I'm also turning into a complete snob.
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Authors I like
- Ernest Hemingway-Though he makes me want to jump out of a window sometimes.
- Ken Kesey- one flew over the cuckoos nest
- Guy De Maupassant- comic, intense, depraved, romantic, deep, twisted. what more could you ask for?
- O. Henry.- love his twists at the end.
- Mark Twain
- P.G. Wodehouse- nothing gets me rofl faster.
- Oscar Wilde - love his twisted short stories, although i think the anecdotes about him are funnier. The insults are wicked.
- Gerald Durrell- I just read 'My Family and Other Animals' and I think it's hysterical. Plus, it has some really beautiful descriptions of nature. Gotta check out his series in westland.
- Saki
- Frederick Forsyth- No One blurs the line between fact and fiction so well.
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