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Another Year

Have you ever started writing without knowing what you were going to say? I usually have a topic in mind, but today I don’t have any ideas. I should say that I don’t have any ideas that I can quickly express, and I don’t want to linger for too long today.

When I started this blog I didn’t know if I’d have anything to say, but I knew I wanted to use this space to both catalogue and share my thoughts on reading as it relates to my private and professional life. My life as a reader. My life as a teacher. My life as a learner. My life.

I never set out to be polite, but I did decide to always be honest. Sometimes in being honest, I have to take extra care to aim my frustrations towards ideas and execution rather than authors and artists. I think I’ve mostly succeeded, but even when you avoid the people a glancing blow can still sting.

I suppose I’m thinking about the sting because this reading year hasn’t really set my world on fire. I’ve found some gems, but sometimes I forget about them when looking over the piles of disappointments. It feels like I’ve reviewed fewer books because I’d rather speak praise than spew snark. I just smiled a little because I do enjoy the snark. It’s who I am, but I also love to praise.

With all that said, I’m off to finish Storm Runner by J.C. Cervantes. I sense some praise on the horizon.

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