You may have seen (or taken part in) that recent Facebook trend to post seven covers, one per day, from books you love. You aren’t supposed to offer any explanation, but you are supposed to tag other book lovers so that your newsfeed becomes filled with books instead of pictures of things like your ex-girlfriend’s dog’s third birthday party.
I was recently tagged, but instead of making seven distinct Facebook posts in which I feel smug about how I am more literary (and therefore better in every conceivable way) than you, I’m going to make one blog post and then post THAT to Facebook. I don’t have the time or the wherewithal to spread this thing out over seven days, but I do like to feel smug and literary.
So, without further ado, here are some book covers. (And some brief explanations because I’m not always great at following directions.)
The skin on my knuckles is so dry that it cracks when I try to type.
My yard is covered in leaves, and while I haven’t actually raked them, I’ve dedicated a significant amount of time to thinking about how I ought to be raking them.
MAKING LISTS IS MORE FUN.
Reasons I am writing:
The world is dumb and stupid and scary, and sometimes writing is the only thing that makes sense.
I’m a kickass writer. (I am also, as you can see, quite modest.)
I have a lot going on in my head, and if I don’t write about it, my husband has to bear the brunt of my neuroses.
If I don’t meet the 50,000 word goal for NaNoWriMo, my students won’t respect me. (They may also jeer and/or throw things.)
I’m sick and tired of how insipid most children’s books are.
I want to read stories about stolen shopping carts, pillows covered in glitter, dogs wearing tutus, shampoo with magical properties, dilapidated boarding houses, and shifty glances between people who don’t like each other but share an uneasy respect.