Hello, friends. Today I come bearing gifts. Mostly gifts to myself. But sharing is caring?
My blog turned three years old on Friday May 2.
For me, it is still Friday May 2 because I’m still awake at one in the morning on Saturday May 3. At my ripe age of 22 I am too old to keep these hours. It’s taken me almost every day of those three years to finally figure out the purpose of Well Read Robin, which is vastly different now from what it started out as.
I started with Project 52, a misguided plan to write once a week for an entire year that crashed and burned fairly quickly. My content was all over the place, I had no unifying theme and every time I sat down to write I’d draw a blank because I just couldn’t figure out what I needed to say.
I’m happy to tell you that I have finally found that purpose, which I think aligns well with the name of my blog (big plus). As my default, go-to question whenever I am stumped on the content of a post I will ask myself “What did I last read?” and then talk about that. Not review style (not always) just talking about how it made me feel and my response to whatever it was. Of course, there will still be posts about life here at UWI Mona because I think the world needs to hear about that too.
I wrote a thing.
Bookophilia’s marketing manager (I do not stalk these people, I swear) has a blog and he started a writing competition which I have entered. My short story can be found here – Mind Manifesting – and I’m somewhat proud of it. So if you can, please go over there and comment so I can feel all warm and squishy inside. You guys are good at giving me warm squishy feelings.
That’s all for now, but stick around to check out my post later today on surviving 4th year.
In bullet point format. Because bullet points are cool now.
This was my first Sue Monk Kidd book. I had been interested in reading her work since The Secret Life of Bees hit bookshelves. But I can’t remember why.
Truth: Ever since high school I’ve had this story floating around in my head of two girls being raised on a plantation, one a slave, the other the owner’s daughter. The story would have been told from both points of view and would follow their life stories: rebellions, heartache and the pains of becoming and understanding one’s self. This novel is that story.
I feel a kind of grief? over the story that I never wrote, like losing an unborn child and then seeing her face suddenly one day.
The amount of research behind it bleeds through in the compelling realness of the traditions and atmosphere SMK describes.
The author’s note confirms that this story is actually based on fact – most of the characters were real people and several of the incidents described in the book actually happened. But it is layered heavily with fiction.
The imagery was beautiful and heart-wrenching. The themes of enslavement and freedom went so much deeper than the literal shackles the novel described.
I love a book that paints people as they are: with faults and failings, trying to survive the best they can. This book does that.
My first book about slavery, and I think I’ll read more.