I hate my textbook; I love to read

English: Six year old boy reading "Diary of a wimpy kid" License on Flickr (2011-01-07): CC-BY-2.0 Flickr tags: diary, wimpy, kid, book, read, bed, boy, hold (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This blog is supposed to be about writing and reading.  So far, so good; I like to read, and I have to write for the class, so you'd think I'd have enough material right there.  The problem is that I'm supposed to be writing (in half the posts) about the essays and articles in our textbook, How to Write about Anything, and I don't want to read most of them, much less write about them.  

So, while it may look as though I'm not reading much, I'm actually reading a lot-- but I'm reading stuff that gives me a break from my everyday thoughts, particularly the sad ones.  As just one example, the first anniversary of my mom's death is coming up (more about that later), and I've been reading mysteries.  In those books, nobody dies of cancer of the spine.  People are murdered, the murderers are caught and usually punished.  Unlike real life, there's some kind of justice.  There isn't anything that satisfying in the textbook. 

 Therefore, and with the permission of my prof, I'm going to write about what I've read lately.

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