To Be Read that’s what TBR stands for and every die-hard reader has a TBR pile next to the bed or on a shelf or stacked in the corner of a room. 

I go through phases where I have stacks of books to be read and then other times when I’m reading so much, so fast I have to keep returning to the bookstore every few days for more.

 Right now I am in the can’t-read-until-book-is-done phase which means I’m miserable and the books I want to read keep arriving from Amazon and I won’t be diving into any of them until July.  Probably second week of July at the rate I’m going.

Oh, it kills me.  Lisa Kleypas’ Sugar Daddy and Blue-Eyed Devil.  Emily Giffin’s Love The One You’re With.  A Hollywood Ending by Robyn Sisman.  Fifteen Minutes of Shame by Lisa Daily.  The Millionaire’s Makeover by Lilian Darcy (I was there in San Diego with her while she researched!). An arc of Mia King’s Sweet Life.  The Lottery by Patricia Wood.  And the ones I’ve ordered but haven’t yet arrived by JR Ward, Marian Keyes, Jane Green, and Sophie Kinsella.  Oh!  And Julia Quinn’s brand new one that has a cover to die for.  I’ve seen it in stores everywhere and it stops me each time and I just look at it, love it, think, yes, this is the one for me.

In Hawaii I have more novels waiting, novels that I bought on my last trip during the Book & Music Festival. 

Oh, to have so many books and absolutely no time to read.  Not even a little because I can’t afford to be distracted, can’t allow the writing energy and intensity to wane.  When I’m in the writing groove,  it’s an obsession.  It takes me so long to sink into this place but once I’m here it’s like quicksand, I’m gone, sucked in and lost to the rest of the world.  Even when I’m not writing now my head aches with fuzzy sound, like the slip of sand down a slope.  Ssssshhhhhh.   Words, words.  They rush at me now, circle, try to settle and its my job to find a place for them, to make them make sense.

I hardly talk to Surfer Ty when I’m writing like this.  I can barely talk to anyone because my head is so tired and I don’t have energy for anything but getting the story down.

When people used to say, “wow, you really churn those out” in reference to my books, I always thought that was funny.  There’s no churning.  It’s not a rapid methodical process.  It’s a swirling madness.  Something so strong it becomes my gravitational pull.  Something so intense I practically sway with fatigue night and day.

My desk.  My computer.  My keyboard.  My words.

I’m just now tonight finishing chapter 5 and have started chapter 6.  Chapter 4 and 5 need some work but they’ll do for now.  I ended up spending far too much time tweaking chapter 3 over the weekend.  I was obsessed with 3 and with my luck it’ll be the chapter I end up cutting.  Three chapters forward, two chapters back.

Tomorrow morning I have another radio interview and then tomorrow night I join Neely’s book club on Mercer Island.  Tomorrow night I’ll be discussing books.  Tragically, for the reader in me, the book will be mine.

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