On readng and writing

This long, hot summer allowed a great deal of time for reading and writing. Gardenening and walking were severely curtailed because of the heat. My family obliged by several presents of books. I went through a long biography of the early twentieth century novelist and editor of the New York Jewish Daily Forward. It is a detailed and often tedious description of the origins of the Socialist party in this country , which was largely composed of Russian, Polish, and German immigrants around the turn of the century. I started the very long Mark Twain "Innocents Abroad." His vacation cruise took him to the Azores,Gibralta, France, Italy, Morocco, Turkey and the Holy Land. After 300 pages that's as far as I and he have gotten so far. He was a compulsive and humorous writer but also a misanthrope, cynic, and cumudgeon. His dislike of about every place and people he visited gets old after while.I'm not sure I'll finish this tome. I also began James McPhearson's monumental, one (long) volume history of the Civil War, "Battle cry of freedom. It is beautifully written but, nevertheless, a heavy read. My sister gave me Studs Turkel's "The Good War" because of my interest in WWII. That also gets tiresome because of the poor writing. I just finished Tim O'Brien's "The things they carried," an autobiographical account of the life of combatants in Vietnam War. It is a compelling amd often brutal account but the author warns you several times that he has embellished the truth. I wish I could retain all I read.

My short poetry book "Oliver Twists in America" came out and I have purchased sufficient copies to distribute to friends and family. It was written when I worked with abandoned and abused kids in a residential treatment center. I wanted to call it "Placement" but the publisher already had a title with that name. I continiue my unblemished record of writing books that go unread. I began a fourth part to my Shrink series but left it for several months when I painted the hero into a corner and could not figure out a way to extricate him. I'm trying to complete it but still having difficulty. The plot is a little too contrived. Morrie and Naomi visit their future burial site and find a gravestone with his name and date of demise. I am going to try to put all four parts, three of which have been separately published, together, leaving out some of the original mostly autobiographical material which I gave my alter ego. I'll need an agent to sell this--no easy feat.
So much for my post-summer blog.