And, a couple of days from now, I'll be coffee-free for a whole month. I don't miss the taste and aroma, which feel alien to by partially detoxified body.
I miss my old, more energetic self, though.
Reviewing this book was a challenge, given how much exposure the press gave the author. It's not as if she won. And now some have started taking about burying hatchets (damn good time to forget where the links are) and how maybe, just maybe, critics shouldn't be too harsh with authors these days.
All things considered, I don't see myself as a 'serious' reviewer - not yet. There's still more of me rather than the book or author(s) in a review, mostly because it's easier to riff on one's emotions - did I like or dislike the book and why - rather than drilling down to the author's history, body of work and going off on possibly unrelated tangents.
One thing I believe some reviewers miss is - even though one may not be enough of an expert to critique instead of 'review' - asking why the author does what he does in a book or body of work. Apart from hitting the right spots with the hatchet and justifying that violence, anybody who reviews something should be curious enough to explore an author's motives where his work is concerned - and not inventing targets to attack.
At times, when I want to get a review out of the way, this becomes a blind spot. As it was when reviewing this book and several others.
"It's literature," I was told. "You can't simply judge it with your emotions."
Until I've read more books, my emotions are all I can go with.
So, no, I don't believe in burying the hatchet. There's still room for professional hatchet jobs, which can be fun to read.
I don't think I'll be writing those, however.