I really don't want to finish Bones, Blood and Butter. It's too good. I wrote a really short muse about it on the much neglected food blog.
A weird thing keeps happening. I keep thinking about the writing as I know my workshop in the MFA program might. I hated the workshop way of reading. I don't know why I'm doing it. I love the writing. It's so straight forward. But there was a moment when she had just seen the place that would become her restaurant. It was an abandoned restaurant and it was filthy. She jumps from that to a long section about an underfunded trip through Europe and Turkey and Greece. All I could think about was how she was going to clean the kitchen. I knew she'd do it herself. I enjoyed the stories about the trip but I was desperate to hear about the cleaning. How weird am I? When she got back to it I was enormously relieved. Someone (maybe even me) would have told her to reorganize it. I'm glad no one did.
I'm going to keep reading as slowly as I possible can.
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