I'm trying to lose myself in a book. This way I can forget all the bad shit and focus on something good...this other world. I totally made the wrong choice. The Birthing House by Christopher Ransom was in the supernatural section at the library (it's one of my favourite areas...apologies if you now think less of me) and so I was hoping for something leisurely but interesting. People are so excited about this book, or at least Ransom's publishers are, that it has a website.
Oh no. Now I find out it's supposed to be scarier than The Shining. What now? Stop that. Scary dolls, mystery virgin pregnancies and all sorts of strange goings on leave me sat here, typing this, with the book next to me taunting me to open it. Well I can't Mr Ransom or I won't sleep. Again. It could be scarier I think but nevertheless I carry on reading in an attempt to reach a point where it's alright to stop reading. I think I reach it then something happens.
Dear Lord. I'll let you know when I finish how good exactly it is. If I ever finish it.
Oooooh and another point related to "birthing" or birth at least....today my wonderfully brave cousin, who is a soldier in the Army, became a dad today. Congratulations.
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