World Literature Blues

I also have  coursework to do, which does put a crimp in my plans for literary world domination.  The subject is fun, though, and is hopefully, giving me more tools with my writing. 

But flicking through a pile of books looking for that one quote, watching the word count climb slower than a sloth on a bank holiday, and forgetting my initial argument,  all conspire to leave no time or patience for write.

(Having read through the last two paragraphs, I suddenly remember my media lessons.  Too many clauses.  Must think like Heminway.  A lot. More.)

So, the subject is something-I-decide, on some World-Literature worthies that-I-decide.  Chances are I will go for Chinue Achebe’s Things Fall apart, Ahdaf Soueif’s The Map of Love, and Joe Sacco’s Palestine.  The theme will be resistance-writing, and the three different voices, and how they capture the struggle their books embody.

Or something like that.  My problem is that I rarely know what the end product will look like.  Time to get the Celtx quecards on, and shuffle dem cards!

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