Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of reading during my free time since I have a huge line-up of books (not including the ARCs that I got from BEA) checked out. So it’s like a mad-reading fest where every free second that I’m not working on my novel/attending to daily necessities/at work, I’m reading.
I go to the library, intending to work, because hey, it’s a library, it’s supposed to be quiet. The wi-fi is also bad enough that I won’t be tempted into social media.
Then I got sidetracked into re-reading a couple of books I enjoyed as a kid (Little House on the Prairies, anyone?) and a couple of books that looks interesting, but my bag doesn’t have enough room to take home (Beneath, Roland Smith), (Sky Jumpers, Peggy Eddleman).
Finally, I leave with another stack of books, which I was NOT supposed to do. And now that I finally finished Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children (which I just checked out from the library section), I can start the sequel (Hollow City) which is almost due back at the library after being renewed several of times.
I am chasing a departing train of self-imposed deadlines on an almost broken bicycle.
I am loving it. Except for the part where I freak out that I don’t have enough time for anything. Then I just burn out and crochet or something.