It has been a while since I've taken the time to write a decent post. With the holiday season here work has been ridiculous which doesn't leave much time for a personal life. Keeping busy has it's pros and cons; I don't get bored and my bank account thanks me, but I don't have as much time for the things I love.
So when I do have time, I take complete advantage of it and you can find me doing one of three things; reading, writing, and making headway through my Netflix queue. Although, most recently I've added podcasting to that list. My friend and I started one about a month ago and it has been a lot of fun.
As far as reading goes I was able to finish The Hunger Games series. Each book kept me wanting more but I was a bit dissatisfied with the ending. I'm not one to criticize writers on how they end their stories, in my opinion it is a world that belongs to them and their decision should be respected but this time all I felt was disappointment.
I also started reading George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones series. That one is going to take me awhile to get through but so far I like it. I expected I would since I loved the show on HBO so much.
Yesterday, I started reading The Help. Two days ago I rented the movie having never gotten around to seeing it in theater, even though I really wanted to. I can't remember the last time a movie has moved me so emotionally. Even when Dobby died in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows: Part 1 I didn't cry, I admit I got a little misty-eyed but tears did not fall. I was glad I chose to watch The Help by myself because there was no way I could have kept those tears back. To top things off, when I watched it a second time the next day, I cried again. Naturally, after that I had to run out and buy the movie and the book.
When it comes to my writing, I only write for myself. I don't ever talk about my writing with my friends or family. Part of it is because writing is the one thing I get nothing but enjoyment out of and I'm afraid sharing it will change that. The other part I have come to believe stems from a fear of failure. Cowardly, but honest. In my mind, I have failed at so much that this is the one thing I want to protect. The one thing I want to keep close and guarded because failure at this, would mean I have failed at everything I ever wanted to do with my life. And that would just suck.