No man escapes alive...

or at least without getting extremely ill. My poor hubby now has the virus and both my guys are sleeping while I'm trying to read a horrid book (good book but horrid for me to read). I really hate reveiewing books sometimes. I also said I was going to slow down because of time but I have such low self esteem (only in the case of writing have you) that I accepted a new assignment yesterday and the new book is nearly 400 pages. At least I'll be interested in this one since it's Japanese lit and I tend to like anything "ethnic" so I should at least want to read it unlike the one I'm reviewing now which I have a hard time of even picking up let alone opening the cover. It's all about race, not something I like in fiction. In non-fiction perhaps, but in fiction, no. I need a little escapism, otherwise it wouldn't be fiction. The trouble is I have a hard time turning down an assignment because I'm afraid I'm not going to get another and I'll die a starving artist, okay, not quite, but still that's why I accepted this annoying book - although many would probably like it. Writing means something to me and I admit I like my name in print, even if it's not my own book, but insh'Allah one day it will be. So even though my inlaws are coming in Sunday and i need to finish this horrid book (260 pages left) by then so I can write up the review, as well as take care of my kiddos (yes, hubby entered this category today :-) That means I'll be burning the midnight oil tonight. Now if I could only read more than two pages at a time that would be something. I have approximately an hour left to read until LD wakes up, unless I find some dishes to do or the mountain of laundry - trust me it's Rocky Mountain size, not Georgia Smoky Mountain size.