BLIND ASSASSIN BY MARGARET ATWOOD

B)Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
I have meant to read "Blind Assassin" by Margaret Atwood for so long. I still haven't read it. I'm afraid to make a promise, vow or resolution to read it. The resolution is sure to get broken. If I act nonchalant, I might read this book in the summer by lucky chance. Of course, I don't want to live my life by a lucky chance. It's so sad for very good books to become a part of my procrastination. They suffer the consequences of my way of thinking. "Tomorrow is another day." Remember Scarlett O'hara would say those words whenever she met an unpleasant circumstance in her life?

Now I'm on a trail of poignant thoughts. My not reading Blind Assassin is part of a deeper problem. It's not just about a book. It's about a lack of self discipline in every part of my life. I am now revealing a part of my character, a character flaw. How do I become a disciplined person?  I can't slap my face. I can't twist my arm. After all, I'm not a believer in self flagellation. By the way, Margaret Atwood is one of my favorite authors. She is why I love Canada. I have enjoyed two or three of her books: Eat Cake and Cat's Eye.

As I write I am beginning to see the light.  I need to set goals. If I am going to become better disciplined, I need to have specific goals. I need to write these goals down. It won't help if they're just marching around in the shadows of my mind. As a matter of fact, there is a weekly meme I try to do every week. This meme helps me because I have to write down the book I just finished, the current book I'm reading. Lastly, I have to write down the next book. This last book is the one I hope to read if nothing falls apart in my part of the book world during my planning stage.

If you look over at my sidebar on the blog, you can see I'm trying. I'm really trying to discipline myself. It's a small beginning.

ANNE FRANK and Charlotte Forten

A) A to Z Challenge

From the time I was a young girl, I always wanted to keep a diary. During that time diaries were not called journals. As a matter of fact, I never heard the word journal used until much later in my life. When my mother and I would go shopping downtown on Market street or Chestnut street in Philadelphia, Pennslyvania, I would most likely at different times buy a diary. I remember two of my diaries. One was blue with a gold lock. Another was deep dark reddish brown like the paint color named sienna. I treasured the second one. Although brand new, the manufacturers had made it look old and antique. It also had a lock and key. It looked like rich, dark, leather.

I never finished any of my five year diaries. This is why I bought so many new ones. My goal was to finish a whole five year diary. I thought about those little books this week. What made me want to keep a diary? I think my inspiration came from two little girls: Anne Frank, the Jewish girl in Germany. She would die in a concentration camp during WWII. The other girl who inspired me was an African American girl named Charlotte Forten. By chance I discovered her diary in a library one day. The feeling was like finding a treasure chest. This little girl might have looked like me. She lived in America. I think her father was a freedman who loved the sea like my father loved the any waters where he might fish.

I will never forget these two courageous girls. They helped me to see that my ordinary life might be important enough to write about on paper. It just proves we never know whom we are inspiring in life. I have never met either girl, but both have lived on each day in my life giving me hope to believe nothing is just mediocre and without purpose. They gave me the dream to write.