Koontz

I just finished reading Odd Thomas by Dean Koontz.

Brilliant.

Simply and utterly brilliant.

His writing flows in a way that feels right to the reader ... in this case, me. This novel has the perfect mix of humor, edge-of-your-seat trepidation, and a connection with the characters that makes you feel like your right next to them on their journey.

My first Koontz book that I ever read was just a few months ago; in fact, it was the first book Koontz ever wrote: Chase (the revised addition). Next came The Taking, then The House of Thunder.

I have enjoyed his work and look forward to experiencing all that he has to offer us readers. Each novel I read, I try to take something from it, soak in every bit of writing knowledge that I can; this is part of the reason I love reading: I love learning how I can better my own writing skills.

What better way to learn than to read it firsthand from the best.

Well, on to Forever Odd.

Unmotivated

So here's the thing--I am ready for something new.

I'm the kind of person who needs change every few years. The change I'm speaking of is centered around my "occupation." My degree was in public relations ... because I couldn't think of anything else to declare.

Now that I've put a few more years on me, I wish more than ever that I would have majored in English/Creative Writing. It kind of sucks that, at this point, I'm just now realizing this.

I have not typed up a blog in almost three months. Why the long gap, you ask? Or maybe you don't care. Part of the disconnection between fingertips and keyboard was that I had convinced myself that I was wasting time, that it was stupid to write something on a page that no body ever reads. A part of me still feels this way.

There was a strong pull today, as if a hidden magnet inside my laptop were pulling me back to my blog to get out some ideas.

I want to be a novelist. The writer within me has nearly ripped out of my skin, looking me face-to-face and slapping my cheeks repeatedly with open palms. "Keep the dream alive," my writer-side says. "Keep the dream alive..."

If my mother-in-law would ever finish editing my first novel ... There I go complaining again. She's a busy woman. Far busier than I am. I have no right to rush her along. Shame on me for complaining about anything: My life is so good compared to the multitudes of people every day who don't have shelter, don't have food, don't have the luxury of reading books in their own language...

I have the gifts that God gave me. I feel like he's honestly leading me down the writing path...

Maybe not. Who knows. But that's what I feel.