I’ve found myself dashing off detailed responses to everything I read once I’m done with it. Well, not everything. Usually when I’m reading at work or a doctors office or wherever I don’t feel the need to respond to it, and even if I did I wouldn’t exactly be given the time. But just about anything I read at home, on my days off or in the hour or so between when I say I’m going to bed and when I actually fall asleep, I have this unrelenting desire to force someone to listen to my opinions on what I just read. The fact that a blank notebook can’t actually “hear” me or “appreciate” what I’m saying doesn’t matter – I just want an audience! It reminds me of being in college, where some professors forced you to keep a journal or just write a response paper week after week after week. I hated that shit. If you disliked a book or story they liked, and you trashed it in your response, you got a lower grade for not “understanding” as well as they wanted you too. I’m the first to admit I will trash the shit out of something because I don’t get it–fuck you, The Sound and The Fury–but sometimes I was right. We shouldn’t have been reading Twilight in a college Adolescent Lit class. But that’s old news. The important news is that now that I no longer have to worry about whether or not someone else will agree with me, I’m writing left right and center. All the damn time. About anything at all I want. My writers block is gone! Hurrah!