The irony is that I am as guilty of this crime as anyone; I cannot even begin to count the number of people I badgered into reading The Hunger Games- but wasn't it worth it? However, I suffer from the inability to experience things that are over-recommended (especially when it's my father doing the recommending- sorry dad!). I am fine with over-played songs on the radio and can watch the same movie or read the same book time and time again but for some inexplicable reason I shy away from things that my loved ones tell me I will enjoy. As a result I have never seen the film Slingblade or watched the t.v. shows Friday Night Lights or Mad Men. A copy of The Help sits gathering dust on my dresser (one of two I have been gifted). What is it that makes me this way? I am not a contrarian, I have no problem liking things that everyone else likes too, and I have certainly shoved Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Clive Cussler's books, and Five Guys Burgers down enough throats. It remains, as much of my quirks, a mystery, but one that I will attempt to overcome. A sort of summer resolution.
In writing news, I am revising my short story version of The Guardians of Ben Q. Flanders and am having a difficult time because I think it wants to be a novel. I am trying to get it down really short (2,000 words) for a contest and maybe I'm forcing something that just isn't going to work. Deadline is tomorrow so we'll see how tonight goes.