More yakkin' about books

I will now describe three books that I own but have not yet read; what a boring way to start a blog entry. How about I start it with some marauding and plundering, downright thievery: I stole this idea to write about books I haven't yet read from a friend's parent's blog. I think it is a great concept, so I will credit that particular book-blog and then only write the occasional entry in this same vein. All great ideas inspire other people to create their own version of those great ideas; that's why you can't copyright an IDEA, just the execution of that idea.

Three books I bought and truly meant to read when I shelled out the cash for them, but still haven't slogged my way through for some reason are: C.G. Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul, Jack Hodgins, A Passion for Narrative, and Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run with the Wolves [the link takes you to a review of this book]. They have survived my periodic book-cleansing ritual, so somewhere in my mind they maintain their status as must-reads. And yet, they don't really fit into my summer-reading plan of only dystopian lit., so I guess I'm writing about them now in order to remind myself that they are waiting my attention, maybe in the autumn this year.
Just a quick scan of the table of contents for the Jung book made me want to dive into it, from the chapter on dream analysis to the one on psychology and literature, to the obliquely titled "Psychotherapists or the Clergy." I haven't read any psychotherapy tomes, and barely anything deeper than pop-psychology, but Jung's ideas have always fascinated me, or what I've read that other people have described as Jung's ideas. And I don't read German, so this translation will have to do. I really do want to read a book by someone who titles his first chapter, "Dream Analysis in Its Practical Applications"; that has got to be a mind-blower.
To be perfectly honest, I have read most of A Passion for Narrative: A Guide for Writing Fiction, but only in bits and pieces, or skimming sections. I want to sit down and devour it over a few days, making copious notes, and getting inspired. I think that is why I have put off for so long reading this book, I hear it inspires writers to WRITE. This blogging has really helped me get into the habit of writing, just sitting down and writing something, anything, and I'm enjoying that part of the process, which enjoyment I have not felt about writing for many years. I think I'm scared of the Hodgins book, that once I read it I will be compelled to write a novel, and then what will happen?
And I started to read Women Who Run with the Wolves years ago when I first bought it; I see the bookmark resides still in the place where I faltered and stopped reading it (1997). the subtitle tells why I wanted to read this one in the first place: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype. I picked this one up halfway through my decade of reading mainly self-help, pop-psych, and other self-improvement volumes. Women Who Run with the Wolves is a "deeply spiritual" book, according to the contemporary review in the Washington Post Book World, and the prospect of reading about the power that women may find deep within and in our genes, and in our stories from eons past, thrills me. I really don't remember why I stopped reading this book, although it is almost 600 pages of teeny tiny type. My commitment to long books is weak at best. Maybe I will tackle that one in bits and pieces; prepare to be astonished, I tell myself: I think this book is full of wondrous words and startling ideas.
I'm sure I've kept all three of these disparately themed books for that very reason: they are all full, full, full of great ideas and my inner bookshelf requires me to keep them around so that I will eventually take them into myself and be inspired by these other writers' words to write more of my own. Every little thing I've ever read has certainly affected me in some way that will reveal itself in all the quirky details with which I will imbue my characters and progress my plots in the future works that are just waiting to leap to life on the page from the ends of my fingertips as I tap, tap, tap away on this keyboard. Just writing about writing like this is inspiring me right now.
Contented sigh.