It’s Getting Harder

After I finished reading Robert Greer’s last novel, Spoon, I decided to step away from crime fiction and rest my aging brain. I have failed in the past few months to meet my self-imposed deadline for posting articles to my blog because, as I get older, it takes me longer to finish a book and then write my critical review. I reread some of my reviews for the past few months and discovered they are very bland.

I seemed to have more senior moments as I get older. I struggle these days to find the right words to express my thoughts. They don’t come as easily as they did when I was younger. They are, it seems, hiding in my brain, and when I search for them, they slip away, purposefully eluding me, hiding in a section that has nothing to do with language. This suggests that my writing, and possibly my reading, vocabulary has decreased, and continuous to do so. I’m still trying to find my voice. I want to abandon my academic voice and cultivate a conversational voice.

I cannot stop writing. Writing for me is an addiction.

In my reading of crime fiction by African American writers, I try to alternate between female and male. That is why Valerie Wilson Wesley is my next project beginning in May. After her, I plan to read the novels of Gary Phillips. I have only one of his novels in my library. So, I’ll be buying some of his other novels while reading Wesley.

According to the winter 2016 edition of Mystery Scene Magazine, the Mystery Writers of America chose Walter Moseley as the 2016 Grand Master. Good for him. I hope someday to finish reading his huge body of work.