Last night my life partner, DF, was yawning by 10 o’clock; he gets up early and works hard. So he gave me a kiss and said he hoped I’d soon be in. I truly intended to follow shortly but had already been sucked in by the undertow of great writing.
In this case it was Zora Neale Hurston’s “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” a book I’d read maybe 25 years ago. Just as with ocean undertows, fighting just tires you out; much better to swim parallel to the current, looking for a weak spot that will allow you to make your way to safety.
No weak spots in Hurston’s writing. The only way for me to break free of her spell was the inability to keep my eyes open after two hours. Reluctantly I put the book down and stumbled off to bed.
Today I feel great, and not just because the sun finally came out after a long spell of gray weather. For a couple of weeks I’d been too busy to do any reading that wasn’t work-related. Spending time with a great novel gave me an attitude adjustment, writing-wise, even though I make my living doing non-fiction work.