There are some downsides to locking yourself indoors on a tight writing regimen. You don't get enough sun, exercise or food groups. Also the endeavour comes with a certain amount of guilt if you're doing anything but write. Anything. Even taking bath. The self-inflicted guilt is mind-boggling.
But I also miss reading.
So then I did the math. Unless something drastic happens to medical science or to my income levels, I simply will not live long enough or have enough free time to read all the books, magazines and Wikipedia entries I want to in life. It is physically impossible.
This is a depressing thought no?
But of course I do not want to depress. So please go read this bizarre New Yorker Shouts and Murmurs piece.
Alternately, my woefully neglected Instapaper RSS feed is here.
Oh yes. There are positive developments on the Cubiclenama front. But I cannot confirm it right now.
P.S. Apologies if these little posts are clogging up your RSS feed. Things will be likewise for a while. Feel free to temporarily bury feed at sea.