• Fiction,  Reading

    Failure & Self-Realization & Ravenous Hunger

    Since leaving my job — more on that later — I haven’t been reading as much as I expected. I think it’s partly exhaustion, and partly just feeling lost. There’s no need to jump from deliverable to deliverable, always on a time crunch, anymore. I have time to truly think for a change, instead of just executing. That’s a luxury, and it’s scary, too. What should I tether myself to, now that I can do anything? I keep extensive to-do lists with what I want to accomplish: writing, coding, volunteering for JordanCon, et cetera. I set tasks, not time slots, so that I don’t keep 12-hour days if I don’t…

  • Fiction,  Reading

    Becoming in Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca

    I started reading Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier while waiting in line for a salad. I had gone down to get Sweetgreen, accepted that my craving for a kale caesar was more potent than my horror at the 20-minute line, and opened the book on my phone. It was an impulsive choice, driven mainly by my desire to finally get it off my TBR. I’ve been reading the book in snatches, a page or two at a time, in line for coffee at my office or on the seven-block commute home. In spite of this disjointedness, I’ve felt a profound sense of growing anxiety. Our narrator — I have just…