As of today, I have four--count them, FOUR--glorious weeks of book reading freedom. No more assigned readings, no Little Darling papers, no workshop submission. Just whatever the heck I want.

Whatever. The. Heck. I. Want.

I so desperately miss "fun" reading, just curling up in a corner, or under the covers, and getting lost for hours and hours in a story and the characters and not having to worry about analyzing the craft of said story. No plot structure, no dramatic conventions, no character development. Just sheer joy. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be a pursuing a Master's in writing if I didn't enjoy picking apart stories. But sometimes I don't want to be aware that's what's going on. I want to relish just reading for the sake of reading.

I finished Feast of Crows this morning on the T. It ended much better than I had hoped in this post. George R.R. Martin managed to end on multiple major cliffhangers, and I am currently very psyched for the next installment (gimmegimmegimme!) that I can hardly wait. But alas, wait I will, and in the mean time, I have those four glorious weeks to fill up!

I'm thinking about re-attacking Neil Gaimen's American Gods. It got neglected in the melee that was my life during the semester. After that, maybe some Hemingway. I'm not, or at least I wasn't, a huge fan of Papa Hemingway. I'm well aware that he is (one of) the father(s) of the modern American novel, but he just doesn't do it for me. But that was in college... maybe things have changed? And then I've got nothing.

So... if any of you (all two of you that read this) have any suggestions, please feel free to share! I'm open to anything.