Now that I've finished my second RDI, I'll probably get back to posting on occasion. But today, I really have nothing to say except that I can't decide what to work on next. An outrageous and outlandish comedy, a dark and pensive analysis of a friend's death and its effect on the friends she leaves behind or the sequel to Love Like That? I'm leaning toward the second choice, the third being the easy one and the first being the one that worries me--because satire can so easily be taken the wrong way. Alas, until that decision is made, I'm giving Valley of the Dolls another read.

At some point I hope to get posting about important things like politics and the alarming state of the world today. But first I have to finish draft 200,000 of my 2006 RDI and find some way to avert my eyes from the many glaring and newsworthy stories about Lindsay Lohan's weight, Brit's pregnancy and of course the progression of Hollywood's new "It" couple. (See "TomKat" motorcycle photo below. Am I a fan, you ask? No, no, and no--I just thought that image was a scream. And would like to add that whilst watching Dawson's Creek many moons ago, I often fantastized that the whole gang would stage a lynching of Joey so that she met Laura Palmer's same fate back in Twin Peaks.)

What I'm reading right now: Atlas Shrugged. Which I fear I'll still be reading ten years from now. But I really do want to know who John Galt is.

What I'm listening to right now: Sophie Ellis-Bextor on the iPod. One of the finest offerings of the U.K. since William Shakespeare. Thanks, U.K.!

What I'm watching right now (and I literally mean, at this moment): Willow. Val Kilmer as the warrior Madmartigan, spouting words of love. Leaves me speechless every time.

In literary news: In a recent NY Observer article about the life and progress of bestselling author Jennifer Weiner, Curtis Sittenfeld declined to comment on the backlash of her now infamous "My thesis of this review shall be, to prove that this book is chick-lit and therefore, kinda sucks" NYT review of Melissa Bank's The Wonder Spot. My comment? Damn, I can't remember. Must be all that chick-lit I've been writing. Next up, my attempt to channel Hemingway and write something as boring and critically acclaimed as The Old Man and the Sea.

Does it get any more lame than this? Maybe if this were the poster for Top Gun 2. Maybe.

"Good"

It seems that more and more often, reviewers are spewing their own personal recipes for what goes into making a "good" book.

I'm just glad those reviewers know! Whew! Because seriously, if I didn't have reviewers to presume that they possess the knowledge to ascertain what makes a book "good", I just might never be able to figure it out for myself!

I want to do an experiment. It goes:

Pizza is "good".

Key lime pie is "good".

Pizza and key lime pie are not made from all the same ingredients.