One a day, plus iron

I accumulate things. I try not to, but it happens anyway. One of the things I have accumulated over a lifetime thus far is books. I like books. I like books a stupid amount, but, and here's the thing, I do not... go back and re-read books very often. I own books I have not opened in twenty years. I own books the titles of which I do not know and the contents of which I no longer recall. I have an entire room devoted to books that I haven't read in twenty years and honestly I'm starting to think that's kind of fucking dumb especially since I haven't bought a fiction dead tree book in literal years and I do most of my reading on my phone these days.

( Cue the wailing about What About After The Collapse! )

I don't write fiction much and when I do, it's about as much fun as banging out chin-ups (if I could do chin-ups, which I cannot despite having fairly decent upper-body strength and the ability at almost-fifty and 170 lbs, to shinny up a swingset pole). Therefore, I have some sympathy for people who are writing fiction. It's a lot like work. And so I sometimes pony up actual money earned by the sweat of my brow (this past week running a vibrating plate floor sander over ancient oak floors to remove carpet cement and what seemed like fifty layers of varnish) to read fiction written by other people.

( Sometimes this goes well... )