Morning blogosphere. Its pretty exciting that since our star studded launch last night, I have had a total of five visitors. And the best part is only three of them were me!
I've been thinking, dear readership, about a number of things. First of all, I'm really shocked by just how difficult this blogging habit is. See, in a world of taut Twitter tweets, snappy (s)Facebook status updates and gratuitous alliteration, the empty white space of a new blog post seems like the Russian Steppes after a week hiking around your friend's back garden.
I'll be brief today, since I have to go to my place of employment soon and stand around looking interested. Let's talk books. I've just about finished the Magus by John Fowles, and I have to say, its been a real joy. The Greek myth, the Jungian undertones and a plot with more twists than all six seasons of Lost; well, what's not to like? And that the protagonist is an old Oxonian with fading ambition and narcissistic tendencies is just a further bonus. But then, isn't that the beauty of Fowles' Nicholas, that we all see a little of our ugly selves in his Aegean misadventure? Anyway, I won't spoil it, since to do so would be a crime, but I really recommend giving it a go. It is, like so many good books, bloody long, but I promise you wont even notice the quite substantial beard you'll grow as you remain captivated by its story.
I'll be picking this thread up again soon, but in the meantime, what are your best Epic Reads? By that I mean, books, that, by the time you've finished them, you can safely say you've been on some kind of Odyssey. Of course, this has nothing to do with length, but depth. So, let me know- I'm dying to fall down another rabbit hole.
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