I hate how school kills my reading libido.

During winter break I plowed through The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Room, and I started Game of Thrones, but once school started I stopped reading anything that wasn’t for school, which is intensely frustrating.

I’ve been feeling pretty productive though, which is good, and every time I read things for class I notice things that I don’t think I would have noticed if I wasn’t in the Fiction department (such as the fact that model tellings are fucking EVERYWHERE), and I notice some of those things in my own writing (GODDAMMIT MODEL TELLINGS WHEN DID YOU START BEING EVERYWHERE IN MY WRITING WITHOUT ME INTENTIONALLY WRITING YOU), and that’s fun.

But I want to finish Game of Thrones. I want to get through the rest of Perdido Street Station, which I abandoned last semester because I was knee deep in my parody and had to read at least ten thousand parodies of Bartleby the Scrivener by Melville (god damn you Melville). I want to reread The Hunger Games before the movie comes out (…though maybe I shouldn’t). I want to read Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger (WHO TEACHES AT MY SCHOOL HOLY FUCK) and The Great Perhaps by Joe Meno (WHO ALSO TEACHES AT MY SCHOOL A;LDKFJASOEIR DEAD) and Special Topics in Calamity Physics, and I still haven’t read The Fault in Our Stars which makes me sad and I”ve never gotten all the way through Jane Eyre or Bleak House or Persuasion, and there’s still a million Jules Verne books to get through.

;alsdkfjaoseirj

I just want to read. School is so tiresome sometimes.