There are times I wish I never started writing. It’s a bit like learning magic, suddenly you know all the tricks and the illusion is lost. Of course, I have favorite authors who make me forget I know the tricks and inspire me to write better. But being a writer is really a full time gig. There’s not even time off for good behavior:/
I still have my escapisms in romances, Scifi, and mysteries. I still watch copious amounts of horror, Scifi, and apocalytptic stuff. THere’s a slew of documentaries Netflix kindly scopes out for me and recommends because I watched Degrees of Evil I might like Mr. Puffer’s Penguins. And I did, too.
But, lately it seems all roads lead back to writing. Here are some of the books I’ve recently purchased. Yes, I will enjoy reading them all, because who wouldn’t, but I think you can see where my next books are coming from:
So that picture sucks. The books are Skyrocketing sales, High Tide, Poisoner’s Handbooks, Shameless self-promoters, the mesh, Women in World War 1.
This one is of course more about human behavior and how civilizations collapse. Perfect bedtime story.
I do have a slew of romance novels, mostly on my kindle to stop me from acting on such information (hey, I’m a scientist, I wanna try some of these theories out).
So basically my next book will be about a man-made ecological disaster where alien’s arrive and women have to work after society collapses by launching a media campaign to help save us all before we go extinct:D