Having just read Frankenstein

I am ready to create a monster of my own...I've decided that I want to write a novel. My intermediate fiction class has been so helpful and I've been getting so much good work out of it that I feel I almost prefer it to poetry. However this is not to say that I could ever give up poetry. It will probably always be my first love; my most loved and bookmarked books are my poetry books, which have their own special shelf on the book hierarchy of my heart (top shelf, naturellement). Still fiction has been so enjoyable lately. I have come to love a certain storyline and continually return to it writing new occurrences and instances whenever I get the chance. I hope to bring this story to life, I already have a sense of who these characters are and feel like I live with them...in the sense that they are a part of my daily consciousness. If only my everyday life didn't get in the way...I'd love to be able to sit down for several months and completely wrack my brain trying to give this story and these characters the presentation and attention they need. I am enjoying my other courses immensely, however, I just wish I could escape. Take to the woods and write in my own private little retreat like Thoreau in Walden (a book which sits on my shelf eyeing me up this very moment, yes I will read you later, later.) So that is that. Also, I did receive several happy packages today:


New boots! Hurrah! They are warm & wonderful.


And something special from my Pop: hearts! He sends me these every year for Valentines Day. I can't remember a single year not having given these out at school.

Stay warm dear friends.