I have been bookstore-ing.
The practice of bookstore-ing has many important health benefits. It also has detrimental effects on the wallet.
Over the past week or so, I've been hanging out at home, sitting in front of my computer, attempting to be a freelance writer and translator. I've been marginally successful; I've had a response to an article query, and I've gotten one translation job, which I've completed, submitted, and need to invoice. The downside of all this freelance work is that staying at home all day has made me pretty raving insane. I thought that in order to be a "serious" writer I needed to pretty much chain myself to a desk. I somehow forgot that I have never been inspired to write anything in this manner. All of my great ideas come when I'm either a) exploring or b)so busy that my mind is constantly engaged.
So. Yesterday I went to the Smithsonian, and discovered that several of their buildings have free wireless. Good to know. I took pictures of the snow and ice outside, and wandered through the galleries of Asian art. That helped somewhat. I finished an article when I got home, made dinner, and went to bed.
Today...I went to Borders. And I found books. Lots and lots of books and magazines. Lots and lots of print. I'd initially gone in to buy a few copies of various magazines that I'm interested in writing for. I ended up in the bibliophilic equivalent of a diabetic coma, after poring over every square inch of the store. Have I mentioned that I love books? Have I mentioned how book deprived I've been in Morocco? And being in this atmosphere of so many books, so many words, words like the ones I want to write...I feel more inspired after one single bookstore visit than I've felt for an entire week.
Note to self: go bookstore-ing more often.
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