[hpychick]

Having realized the emptiness in my life, I've turned inward again and sought out what I've been missing. Books. Beautiful Books.

I started writing here yesterday, a long and luscious tale of my reading history and habits, and then did a keystroke (ctrl U) that erased it all and put me into a page of Visual Basic code. I whined. I thought I'd type it all from the start again, and then, decided against it. It must have been erased for a reason.

So here I am. All that good writing, gone to waste.

My most recent read was The Lovely Bones which had succeeded in captivating me, although it's fiction. That is, until the last few chapters, when the author decided to take a nose-dive and ruin the lovely path created. I felt cheated, disrespected. A good writer knows the ending to a story is paramount.

As a writer myself, I've learned: Don't freak out. Take a break. Come back later. Re-read what you've already written. Finally, decide how the conclusion needs to go to hold the reader to the last period in the book.

This author took a sharp left and drove right off the cliff.

I need something new to read now. Something non-fiction again. Something timeless.

Any suggestions?