Evening

So, evening time. Now I have settled myself down in front of the computer accompanied by a glass of Chardonnay (long day at work), I quote Sylvia Plath : "After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones." Hmm. It is true that as soon as you have the blank page in front of you, it takes a while to lay the event you wish to relate down properly. I have just commenced the reading of The Journals of Sylvia Plath, and how promising they are already. Certainly they shall keep me entertained on my journey down to London on the 9th of July and beyond. It is rather a thick and heavy volume. I plan on finishing Jane Eyre (for the umpteenth time) in the next few days, and i completed my first memoir for a long time last week, James Frey's A Million Little Pieces. Although I am aware of the controversy surrounding the authenticity of the book, it is still a wonderful read. There is also a follow-up, My Friend Leonard, however I am cautious of sequels at the moment, so it isn't at the top of my list. Gazing from the window it is a bright, cool evening with a nippy breeze. I must sit outside with Sylvia for a while to soak up the hush which has descended over the close of the day, how appropriate. On finishing Jane Eyre I will post my thoughts on it, I have have a literature course which features it next year so the sooner I get my thoughts down the better. For now, goodnight.