Today is the one-year anniversary of when I chose to become a non-smoker. A colleague of mine noted the date and asked if I chose Star Wars day on purpose đ Nope, total coincidence!
Screenshot of the app to track non-smoking duration: 1 year, 0 month, 0 day.
For a month or two, it was constantly on my mind and it was a daily challenge not to smoke. Then it waned. I thought about smoking occasionally and then I didn’t. I don’t remember the turning point but there was one after which I had become a non-smoker, not merely one resisting temptation.
The smell doesn’t bother me. Nor does it make me crave smoking.
Every time I closed the book I would see the testimonials printed on the cover âno one does it better than Grishamâ, and âjust when you think you know Grisham he surprises you.â Well, the former is true only up to this book, and the latter is true particularly in light of this book.
It takes ploughing through 400 pages (out of 550) for the book to begin to start. But it never really takes off, and seems even rushed at the end. Such a disappointment.
The book was boring, shallow, and while the writing isnât bad, it is too verbose and very tedious. The plot is weak and stretched ultra thin; in this form it could and should have been a novella.
It is astounding that over the course of so many pages, and despite a rather small group of characters, we readers get to know hardly any of them.
The book is touted as âThe sequel to A TIME TO KILLâ which was such a fine novel that I hope that anyone who hasnât read it isnât put off by this one. Commonalities between the two are the main litigator and his family and a couple people who work with him, and a few irrelevant references to the other story. This novel attempts to shine by association but fails.
What my top-five most viewed photos tell me is that I should have been a model in my early thirties rather than a wannabe photographer.
I have been using Flickr since 2005.
Well, I have not used it for several years now, and I think I just understood why:
The most viewed photos are almost entirely pictures I posted that picture me. They are part of the story I told about me on this platform, but they are not photos I took. (Although I did a series of self portraits in a dusty mirror which are of me, by me.)
But I donât use the platform to show myself (thatâs what Instagram is about, right? And I left that one already), as much as to showcase my photography at the same time as I photo-document bits of my life.
The only photo where I am not, among the top five, is a byproduct of its title being the same as swingers club (a coincidence, which I blogged about in 2006 when I figured out why it was my most popular photo.)
I think I will find out how much longer the pro membership I paid is, and find an exit strategy for all of my photos on this platform. There is appetite for how I was about 10 years ago more than there is appetite for the stuff I want to show, much to my dismay.
