Different Horses

On Wednesday, the first of my overwintering swallowtail chrysalids hatched. It was a coolish day, about 65°F when I put it outside. It seemed to have a little more trouble getting going that the summer butterflies, but eventually, it flapped away.
One of the ladies from my CG and I have been exchanging whole novels. I finished one of hers last night (okay, early this morning). I enjoy reading her work, even though it is very different from mine. I always have to have some kind of paranormal flavor to my work. Might be a dash, might be the main ingredient. I was very interested to read about Stephen King dissing Stephanie Meyer (and others) last week. I thought, “There’s the pot calling the kettle black.” I’ve never thought King was a particularly good writer. He’s very good at building tension, but I find his characters are so disagreeable that I’m rooting for the monster to hurry up and get them, or I spend way too much time thinking, “That doesn’t make any sense…” But a lot of people love his work, he’s got more money than God, and I’m sure my criticism means nothing to him. Different readers enjoy different things. I read J.K. Rowling’s The 7 Deathly Hallows in a 24 hr period. All 759 pages. I struggled for 6 months to read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night, and even skipping pages, never got past page 140. My husband, on the other hand, loved The Curious Incident and stopped reading Harry Potter after book 4. Different horses for different courses.