I’m not entirely sure why the days have been so busy lately: they are not straight-line busy, either, but rather a weather’s-coming-in variety of agitation and scatter. If I were watching too many movies on DVD, or if the nights passed in drinking too much, or if it were a matter of too many shows all around town, that would be one thing. There isn’t even time to play computer games, hardly.
Or maybe it’s (e) All of the above.
The brightest light by my recent midnight-oil lamp, though, has been The Dark Tower, Stephen King’s long-in-the-coming final volume of the tale of Roland of Gilead, last of the Gunslingers. I’ve been reading the majestic Dark Tower saga since the 80′s and now, as the final chapters whip past and the Tower is just over the horizon at last, I am drawn – yes, drawn – to the end with a heart full of mixed feelings. In the final stretch, King is as vital as he has been all along; the ball isn’t being dropped as we get to the last pages. But after so long a journey along the Path of the Beam, I’ll miss this story.
Tonight, after the debate, I will finish. Long days and pleasant nights, then.