I finished Kim Stanley Robinson's Red Mars a few days ago, and, while it offered a tremendous amount to think—and, presumably, to write—about, I can't quite summon the necessary energy actually to gather my thoughts and present them.
The fault is certainly not in the book: I am beyond eager to read the next two installments in the trilogy and I cannot praise Red Mars highly enough. It is almost precisely the kind of book which should lead me to all kinds of verbosity, and which almost certainly should provoke at least an attempt at sustained engagement with the text. I mean, Fredric Jameson is in the acknowledgments and provides a blurb for the novel—I'm not sure any other work of fiction can make that boast.
And if that is the case, I think it is probably time to put this blog into something like hibernation, at least until the end of the year, when my academic obligations shift not so much in their weight or density but in (I believe) their distribution, and I may find some time to try out my ideas here once more.
My neglect of the past few months (if not longer) has probably already winnowed this blog's reader base, but I assume (or rather, Google Reader tells me) that some people are sticking around on RSS, for which I'm quite grateful.