The key to the house. I love keys like this! I wish all of mine were like this.
- Mallorca, Spain; 18:30
Went to the beach today and realized something… in amidst to my love affair of the beaches in South America, having been to a few beaches in Europe now, I much prefer the latter… people leave you alone more or less. In most of South America, you’re lucky if you can walk in silence for two minutes (the annoying Ssss, ssss, I do not miss).
Catching up on my reading and have finished Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go which is a definite must-read. The story gave me a strange, heavy feeling; full and empty at the same time. It’s really good. Started John Steinbeck’s To A God Unknown and am hooked already. The way he writes is so… swift. I never get bored or start drifting off the page (I experience this habitually with other books and have to force myself to stay on the page) as he just carries the story so well. I read the Introduction in the beginning and found it interesting. This book was the hardest he had labored and took him 5 years to write. I can’t imagine writing 5 days a week (which is what he did) for 5 years and receiving one rejection after another; he had to rewrite the book many times. He never considered himself one of the greats. I suppose all writers experience insecurity and fury, no matter how good they are..
The laboring is what makes one great, I guess. But then, that scares me.