Good Morning, y'all.
I'm reading this big fat thing (a little free library find) because on the back jacket Rumaan Alam promises me it will be
" a good, old-fashioned gangster story, impossible to put down. It's a novel garlanded with Shakespearean flourishes--star-crossed lovers, secret identities, complicated conspiracies--exploring timeless questions of family, loyalty, and fate."
As such it seems like a good pairing for the show I am currently bingeing on Netflix (Animal House). I might as well say here that I have some concerns that Animal House, like a show my teen recently watched, AP Bio, might be fronting some "it's OK to be an awful white man doing criminal things" agenda. . . but that's beside the point of my post today.
I started reading at home, in the new reading set up, at 10.03 am. I had a coffee (iced) with me.
It took me a while to get back into who/what/where as I just started the book last night and the setting and characters haven't really taken hold yet. I was irritated by an image I found contradictory ("lava hours . . . air so cold it scars" 16), but didn't shut the book in a fit of pique.
I got distracted by wanting to move my side table so I could reach my coffee more easily, but then settled in relatively well, accessing some of the nuance Kapoor is slowly building (eg the enslaved protagonist is taught to mask his Dalit caste by saying he comes from a Kshatriya household).
The dogs barked, I read.
I thought about notes I need to make after a long and difficult meeting yesterday.
I hit a nicely focused zone (10.20ish)
The dogs barked.
I thought about when today I want to venture out in the heat and go to the gymn.
The dogs barked.
I got up and found two cookies to eat (chocolate chip)
I read and regretted the cookies.
I finished reading at 10.33 am.
I don't have a succinct reflection to tie this post up with, except to say I felt pretty focused, and read attentively and receptively, and yet: look at all those distractions!
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