More and more often it seems that my book selections are recommendations from friends. I guess I don’t spend enough time skulking around the shelves at Half Price Books or Barnes & Noble anymore.
You are sitting at home watching your favorite show, just as you do every week, waiting for the “wrap up” to occur, followed by previews of next week’s show, this is pretty typical and sounds familiar right? Oh and for those of you unfamiliar with the “wrap up”, that would be the last 10-12 minutes of your standard hour long drama in which they solve the case, catch the killer and generally save the day. Now the exception to the textbook “How to make a successful television show” story is usually the season finale.
My mom keeps telling me to “walk, don’t run” (which is, by the way, the title of Cary Grant’s very last movie shot in 1966).
I love my mom. But what she doesn’t know is, walking and running are like water and gasoline. They are two totally different categories of metabolic burn. Walking simply does nothing for me in terms of weight loss.
Some of my best friends are rock stars. I love being able to say that, so much in fact, I’ll say it again. Some of my best friends are rock stars. Now, I use the term “rock star” to define someone who is in a band, which has not yet had national success, but has the potential to at some point in the very near future.
Writing movie reviews has made me realize that almost every movie I see is in some way a chick flick. Sure there are the outliers like There Will Be Blood or Michael Clayton that I really enjoy, but by and large, it’s a pretty safe bet that I’m going to blog about something girly. And this one’s no different.
Summer is quickly approaching, which means that many of us will be perusing the bookstands for some beach reading. Instead of numbing your brain with the latest grocery store checkout throwaway, why not reach for a romantic classic?