Years ago, chiseling on stone, I started out writing by doing book reviews. I don’t remember my first review title but know it was a book for a woodworking magazine. I concluded the review with one peeve: the subtitle claimed the book was a primer on batch woodworking where, to speed production, you might make ten of something instead of one. There wasn’t a hint about batch woodwork in the book and I pointed it out. I didn’t make a dime but got to keep the book, which was a great deal in my way of thinking. Since then, I’ve reviewed hundreds of books. In fact, on my spreadsheet based To Be Read list is a final check-box after each title: ‘Reviewed?’ I don’t consider a book read until I’ve reviewed it.
So, here I am, combining a dozen websites and hundreds of posts into one site. It’s against the rules, I know. Rule makers say, “Focus like a laser on one thing – then cut that thing in half.” Maybe that’s the best way to operate a site for efficiency and for collecting email addresses. I don’t know. It’s not the way I work, though. On any day, I might write fiction about a boy growing up in medieval Scandinavia or about DNA methylation. I will invariably write something memoirish and might top the day off with a book review or a psalm. I have so much stuff in my head I wonder if I will ever get it all out. I hope not. For my writing transgressions, I ask that you forgive me in the same way that others forgive you.
You should know that I am a member of the Amazon affiliate program. If you use my site to access Amazon and buy a book, I get a kickback in return. If you do that and buy a 1973 Porsche Turbo I might make enough for a cup of coffee. Here’s hoping!
Cheers and good reading…
The Case for Christ, Lee Strobel. It’s loved by most and a perennial seller. By my estimation, a little lean. A song for the choir.
Shop Craft as Soulcraft, Matthew Crawford. A worthy read for crafters. Starts strong and then lags a bit.
Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe. First of a trilogy about African colonization. A classic.
What Makes Olga Run? Bruce Grierson. Why your 90-year-old grandmother is a world-class athlete. Can you follow in her footsteps? Maybe.