You are what you read.
I've been trying to keep these blog posts shorter lately. I'm itching to write, as I knew I would be after last weekend's Hippocamp conference. I have ideas for three dozen new articles. But I've also had a terrible time falling asleep lately. I fall into bed exhausted at 9 p.m. and toss until 11, my body restless and my mind racing. The late-night screen time doesn't help, of course.
Then there are the books. Stacks of unread books on my nightstand, the bookshelf, crammed inside my laptop bag. Books I bought from the author tables at Hippocamp, and books I bought on Amazon at the recommendation of writer friends, and books I bought at this afternoon's library book sale because why not? They're books.
Jane: A Murder arrived in the mail today. I hate the cover but love the book. It's changing my notion of what I thought my book had to be.