Category: writing

Careless Whisper

So, I’ve decided to give Short Story Month another go. The idea is to read a short story every day, and then write a blog entry about it; or at least include a discussion of said story in that day’s blog entry. I really do love short stories, and I am not completely certain why I have so many mental blocks, both about writing and reading them. Go figure. I think the thing about reading of them comes from having edited so many anthologies; although having edited over two hundred (at least) novels hasn’t affected my ability to read them. Hmmm, interesting.

Today is the final day of my three day weekend, and I have a lot to get done today–and this week. Saturday I am on a panel at Comic Con here in New Orleans, which is exciting; and our friend Michael is having a gallery show opening later that evening. So, my Saturday is pretty much spoken for this week, but due to long days at the office the next two days I only have to work a half-day this Thursday so I can do all the errands–grocery, etc–that day before going into the office.

Last night I started reading George Pelecanos’ The Way Home and really got into it more; he’s quite a good writer, and I am curious to see how the rest of the book plays out. We also finally got the Showtime app on our Apple TV to work again (I had to delete and download it again) so we could get going on Ray Donovan again, which is also an interesting show. I am quite enjoying it but am not hooked, if that makes any sense? Paul is going into the office today, and I have to go to the grocery store–direct result of sleeping in Saturday morning, damn it; obviously I would have rather slept in this morning–but at least it looks like the incessant rain has finally let up.

The first short story of this month is an Edgar Award winner from 2013; Karin Slaughter’s “The Unremarkable Heart,” which I have revisited for this occasion. It was originally published in MWA’s anthology Vengeance (I wrote a story for this, but I don’t remember which one; obviously I have not checked off ‘getting a story into an MWA anthology’ off my bucket list–I failed again this year but didn’t think it was going to get accepted this time around, didn’t have much hope as it felt rather forced), and went on to win the Edgar. I was at the ceremony, and obtained a copy of Vengeance specifically so I could rest this story. I did read the entire book on my flight home–airport and so forth–but Karin’s story was quite remarkable; it reminded me very much of Shirley Jackson and Daphne du Maurier: it was that good.

June Connor knew that she was going to die today.

The thought seemed like the sort of pathetic declaration that a ninth-grader would use to begin a short-story assignment–one that would have immediately elicited a groan and a failing grade from June–but it was true. Today was the die she was going to die.

The doctors, who had been so wrong about so many things, were right about this at least: She would know when it was time. This morning when June woke, she was conscious not just of the pain, the smell of her spent body, the odor of sweat and various fluids that had saturated the bed during the night, but of the fact that it was time to go. The knowledge came to her as an accepted truth. The sun would rise. The Earth would turn. She would die today.

June had at first been startled by the revelation, then had lain in the bed considering the implications. No more pain. No more sickness. No more headaches, seizures, fatigue, confusion, anger.

No more Richard.

That opening is like a punch in the mouth. Grim and unrelenting, Slaughter sets up her unsuspecting reader like a master: here we have a woman who, at long last, after a debilitating illness, is finally going to die and she knows it. As she reflects, in her deathbed, about finally being finished with the messy business of dying, she adds one more thing that she is finished with: Richard.

As the story unfolds–I won’t spoil it, the unfolding is part of the mastery of the story-telling–the sense of horror continues to grow as June reflects back on the horror of her own life, the tragedies she has seen and lived through, how she somehow managed to survive things that would break lesser people. It continues to insidiously unfold, as Slaughter keeps playing out her cards carefully, taking each trick from her mark like a punch to the solar-plexus, each new revelation an even bigger, more horrific shock than the last…until she gets to the very end, and the reader faces the biggest horror of them all. I remember reading this story on the plane and when I reached the final sentence of the story, I gasped and dropped the book.

I’ve not read anything else by Karin Slaughter; I know she is enormously popular and successful, and I have copies of several of her books which are in the TBR pile. But I am a fan, simply based on the brilliance and utter horror of this short story. The Edgar was well deserved; this story has resonated with me in the years since I read it and I’ve never once forgotten how horrific and smart and well-written it is.

If you’re a fan of short stories, you really need to read this one.

And now, back to the spice mines, and here is your Monday morning hunk:

I Want Your Sex

I’d intended to do my ‘highlights of 2016’ yesterday so that today’s entry would be about goals, like I always write about on January 1, but alas, the over-indulgence in sinfully delicious food and vodka yesterday derailed the rest of my day. Even today I am a bit foggy, but I have work to do so once I finish this I have to clean the kitchen and get going, much as I would prefer to spend the day lounging and relaxing and recovering. We’ll see how it all goes, shall we?

So, what goals am I looking to accomplish in 2017?

Be healthier

I say this every year, I know, but this year I really need to do something about getting into better physical condition. I weigh 225 pounds right now (which I never thought I would ever admit to publicly), which was my ‘fat weight’ way back when I first decided to do something about my health in 1994. Granted, my body isn’t carrying as much fat-weight as I was back then, and there’s a lot of muscle under the layer of fat, and my body composition has changed (much bigger legs, much bigger arms and chest and shoulders) so I have to be careful–I have a peculiar shape to begin with (enormous ribcage, small waist and pelvic girdle–but it won’t hurt me to cut back on fat intake and so forth. My family, on both sides, is prone to heart problems, high blood pressure, and I have recently discovered there is also a congenital heart problem on my mother’s side. So, I don’t really have a choice. I need to get healthier, I need to get my BMI down, and I am already on blood pressure medication. So, if it means trying to figure out how to carve out some more time at the gym–cardio or weights or both–I need to do it. I also need to have a regular massage, at least once a month, and I need to get on a regular stretching schedule. But I am also not going to try to push myself too crazily to begin with; baby steps, and remember my mantra when I first started back in 1994: three times a week is best, twice a week is better than once, and once is better than never.

Get an agent

I also have made this a goal for many years now, and this is the year though that I intend to at least get started on the search. I have a project I need to get back to work on, that’s been languishing in a drawer while I work on deadlines and other things, but this is the project that I think I can get an agent with/for, and it’s simply a matter of now that it’s been sitting for so long, taking another good long look at it and fixing some things (the end needs to be redone), and then start sending out queries. May 2017 be the year that sees this happen for me. Fingers crossed.

More short stories written and published

This is one I also say every year, but at least this year will start off with an announcement (once it’s officially official) of a sale of which I am extremely proud, and I want to ride that momentum to get some of these other stories I’ve been working on now for years finished and out there. I finally learned/realized what I’ve been doing wrong on my approach to writing short stories (seriously, and it was so glaringly obvious that I cannot believe not only the level but depth of my stupidity), and so these other stories that are unfinished are going to be looked at now again through that cold, observational eye. I also have an idea for one that I want to write that I think will be really good; sketched out some thoughts and ideas on it, and we’ll see how it goes.

Learn to speak some Italian

This is another roll-over from last year, and really, twenty minutes a day is all it would take to get going on it. I also think working on another language will help me with my creativity by exercising my brain.

Get the ebooks of the first two Scotty books up

Bourbon Street Blues has been retyped; just needs a re-edit and a cover and to be formatted; Jackson Square Jazz is in process of being retyped. This should be completely do-able by spring.

Be more jealous of my time, and manage it better

I have this horrendous habit of not saying no to anything–I am always so flattered to be asked, and am also always afraid I won’t be asked again–but this always leads to me being overbooked and scrambling to find the time to get everything done that I’ve agreed to do. So, the first step in this process is learning how to say no to people, and if they are offended by me saying no, then they can literally go fuck themselves. I am very busy, with two full time jobs, a part time job, and everything I have to do around the household to keep things going. I don’t have the time to get everything *I* have to get done, let alone see friends, stay in touch with people I really care about, and read all the things I need to read, so I am going to have to start managing my time better. That means less goofing off, and saying no more often.

And now, I need to get back to the spice mines.

Thanks for always being there, Constant Reader. Here’s a hunk for you:

I’m Your Man

It rained all night, and I was awakened a couple of times by the sounds of the deluge. The sun appears to be out, but there are still clouds. I think it’s supposed to rain all day; I’m not really sure. (In checking, we are in a Flash Flood Watch until midnight tomorrow night.) I stayed in bed far too late; I should have gotten up early. And no, I didn’t get up yesterday to go to the grocery store, either. I forgot to set my alarm and slept until ten again, just like I did this morning.

Sigh.

I basically took yesterday off; I was more than a little tipsy when we got back from our annual lunch at Commander’s Palace to see you the old year–I had a dirty vodka martini before eating and two Bloody Marys during the meal–and so the rest of the day was kind of a waste.

Dirty martini:

Shrimp and tasso appetizer:

Bloody Mary:

Beef tournedos, main course:

Strawberry shortcake, dessert:

As you can see, I was overloaded and definitely needed a day of rest afterwards.

We watched the LSU game before we went to Commanders, and then recorded it to watch when we got home, lackadaisically watched Alabama and Clemson win, and then finally watched the last two episodes of The Exorcist, which was a lot better than I thought it would be, and then went to bed. I have to write today, and all day tomorrow (plus go to the grocery store in the morning; I have already set the alarm for tomorrow morning so there won’t be any more of that oversleeping shit), but I do feel a bit out of it this morning. Definitely need some more coffee before I clean/organize the kitchen, start the laundry, and by then I should be awake enough to write.

Here’s hoping, any way.

2016 was a pretty shitty year, overall. Beyond everything awful that happened last year on a macro level, there was also a lot of shit I, and people I know and care about, had to deal with on a micro level. I don’t know if 2017 is going to be better, but you never know. But some good things definitely happened for me in 2016, so I am choosing to view those things.

Here are some of my highlights of 2016:

Publication of Garden District Gothic

Hard as it is to believe, I’ve now published seven books in the Scotty series. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since Baton Rouge Bingo, and I had kind of wanted to do a Scotty per year once I renewed and revived the series. That didn’t happen because time always seems to slip through my fingers, no matter how hard I try to stay on top of things. Retyping Bourbon Street Blues (I eventually had to hire someone to do it for me) also reconnected me to Scotty and how I originally envisioned him and his family; which made writing this one a joy, even as I groused and bitched about it while I was doing it. I want to do at least ten of this series in total; I am hoping to get Crescent City Charade finished in 2017 for a hopeful 2018 pub date. I know of at least two more books in the series I want to do, and there’s also the possibility of doing some spin-offs–a Colin stand-alone is definitely something I want to try–and maybe even a new adult with Taylor. We’ll see–but I am not ruling anything out for Scotty and the gang.

Editing Bouchercon anthology

I hadn’t edited an anthology in a while, and had also pretty much decided I wasn’t going to do anymore. My heart wasn’t really in them anymore, and while I was still producing some high quality anthologies, I wasn’t really interested in doing any more of them. The opportunity to do the Bouchercon anthology was something, though, I didn’t want to pass up–it was my first non-queer anthology, and it was a lot of fun to do, and different. I think Blood on the Bayou turned out really well, and I was quite pleased with it. Whether I will do another anthology remains to be seen.

Bouchercon in New Orleans

I served on the host committee for Bouchercon in New Orleans as well this past year, and as always, it was a pleasure to work with the incomparable Heather Graham and Connie Perry. The event itself was one of the best times I’ve had at a conference. It was so delightful to see so many people I absolutely adore in my home town, and it was also fun meeting other colleagues and making new friends. I also think I drank more those five days than I had the preceding five years.

Two short stories published, “Housecleaning” and “Survivor’s Guilt”

It was both a thrill and an honor to have two short stories published in mainstream anthologies: “Housecleaning” was in the wonderful Sunshine Noir, and “Survivor’s Guilt” was in Blood on the Bayou. The reception to both stories from readers after the books were published was also lovely. I am not confident about my short story writing, and this was a tremendous boost, as was another sale I made in the latter part of the year that I am not allowed to talk about publicly as of yet. Great Jones Street, a new phone app for short stories, also republished my story “The Email Always Pings Twice,” which was also lovely.

Getting my finances in order

My finances had kind of gotten out of control over the last few years; unexpected expenses combined with a very deliberate cutback in my writing/editing work (read: income) had made money worries a major hassle. This past year, I focused and made a plan, with the end result I wound up paying off over half my debt with a clear plan to finish the rest of it off this year. The good news is this has done wonders for my credit, and that, combined with an unexpected windfall and some other financial planning, has me prepping for new car purchase this month, which is terribly exciting.

Personal and professional growth

I feel that, over this past year, through some of the work I did and a lot of the reading I did, I grew as a writer. I figured out why I was having so much trouble with the writing of short stories, and also determined some steps I can take to make sure the novels I write are better.

So, I bid thee adieu, 2016, and promise to try to remember the good you provided as opposed to the bad.

Father Figure

Friday, New Year’s Eve Eve, and all is well in the Lost Apartment. I worked late last night, so am sluggish this morning. I had wanted to run an errand this morning–grocery store or Costco–before work but I was a lag-a-bed until after ten and even now don’t feel completely awake as of yet. I can, of course, stop at Cadillac Rouse’s on my way home from work tonight, make a run somewhere tomorrow, and of course everything is open on Monday….but still. Although, really–I should have assumed/known I would sleep late this morning.

But my coffee is tasting really good this morning.

The temperature here has dropped back to the fifties; after those sparkling days in the seventies, it’s kind of a shock to the system. The forecast over the next week is also all over the place, which is pretty par for the course, I suppose, for January.

I am trying not to get too stressed about the book, which is almost finished. The long weekend should be enough for me to finish it as long as I don’t get either 1) lazy 2) a case of the “I don’t wannas’ or 3)something happens.

Heavy heaving sigh.

I still haven’t had the chance to get started reading the Pelecanos; maybe tonight I’ll have a break to read. I wish I had more time to read, really. There’s never enough time, which is one of the reasons time management improvement is absolutely necessary for me in 2017. Should I have set the alarm for seven this morning and forced myself to get up, run to the grocery store? Absolutely. Should I set the alarm for seven tomorrow morning, get up and run all errands before lunch at Commander’s Palace? I totally should; in fact, I must. If I don’t get that done before lunch tomorrow, I’ll have to carve time to do it out of my writing time the rest of the weekend, and therein lies the rub. I can sleep in on Sunday and Monday, after all; and I did this morning. I don’t need to sleep in four consecutive mornings. So, we have a winner: getting up at seven on Saturday. Hey, I can get everything done in plenty of time to be home for the start of the LSU game at eleven before heading to Commander’s.

If I don’t get lazy. Always an important caveat.

All right, on that note, it’s time to get to the spice mines.

Here’s a hunk for New Year’s Eve Eve:

The Edge of Heaven

The end of the year is nigh.

I have a lot to do (of course, as always) over the next few days. I am already tired, just thinking about it, of course, but hey–such is life. I have to work late tonight again, and really should have made a grocery run this morning but I overslept, so there’s that. There is, of course, still time, if I get my act together and get moving, but right now that doesn’t sound particularly appealing. Heavy sigh.

But–probably better to get it done today than to try over the weekend. Nothing will be open on Sunday because of the holiday, and I can’t imagine that Saturday morning before out lunch at Commander’s Palace would be any better. Possible to do, but still most likely a madhouse.

Although Monday is a paid holiday for me, and apparently Costco will be open. Hmmmm. If I can do the grocery store this morning, and Costco on Monday…

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men.

Anyway, I feel confident I can get the errands run I need to this weekend around writing and football games….although to be honest, I don’t really care about the bowl games other than LSU’s this year; I may watch some to kill some time or while reading, but other than that–meh.

I am going to read George Pelaconos’ The Way Home next, and then I am going to start trying to get caught up on series I have fallen behind on–I’m looking at you, Ranger series by Ace Atkins, in particular–and of course, January’s goal is to read and write about a short story every day, so I am gathering my short story collections and anthologies close. I don’t want to write about a story I’ve already read and written about (alas, “Don’t Look Now” by Daphne du Maurier will have to be excluded from this as I’ve talked about it ad nauseum; but a reread of “A Rose for Emily” is definitely in order), so the idea is to read stories that are new to me, and then write about them.

And now, I need to get ready for work and mine some spice.

Here’s today’s hunk:

Faith

I feel very good today; working late last night apparently was a good thing as I was able to sleep really well and get up this morning feeling very well rested and a-rarin’ to go. Which is a good thing, as there is a lot of spice to be mined today. Woo-hoo!

Let’s see how long this lasts, shall we?

I am also thinking about my goals for the year 2017. As you know, Constant Reader, I don’t make resolutions, I set goals. Unfortunately, the goals I tend to remember from year to year are the one I make no headway on: being healthier (eating better, doing more cardio, going to the gym more regularly); writing more short stories; getting an agent; and organizing my time better. I suppose I shall set some of the exact same goals this year, but hopefully this year I will be able to get going on those and doing something about them. I’ve already decided to no longer sign contracts for books as yet unwritten; write the book and see if someone will publish it is my new mantra, and in a worst case scenario, I can always (shudder) do it myself if need be.*

*I don’t have anything against self-publishing, I just know it’s a LOT of work, and I don’t think I have the time to self-publish, self-promote, self-market, etc.

Time management is the really important thing here; being able to get work done without allowing laziness to take over, or allowing myself to be quite so easily distracted, is key. It frightens me to think how much I could get done if I actually stopped wasting so much time–and justifying the waste of time as ‘thinking’ or ‘plotting’ or ‘planning’; which is something I also do. Of course, I am now fifty-five years old. What are the odds of making significant life/lifestyle changes at this point? I do think the healthy thing could happen; I used to be able to manage the gym a minimum of three times per week, and again, it’s a scheduling thing. If I can manage to stop wasting time, I can get to the gym and do some extra weights and cardio in addition to my time with Wacky Russian. And I know, from experience, that cutting back on my food intake while increasing how much I exercise will trim excess fat from my body–even now that I’m older and my metabolism has slowed, it’s simply a matter of taking longer than it did before.

And frankly, I can live with that. It’s a process, not an instant gratification.

And hey, I also managed to get my finances under control in 2016, which was one of my goals for the year–so it wasn’t all failure. 🙂

Okay, I have spice to mine.

Here’s a hunk for you, Constant Reader:

When I See You Again

Christmas was a lovely day, relaxing and everything. I got some work done in the early afternoon, and then retired to the reclining chair to watch television. We started watching a couple of movies but tired of them quickly, but we did watch Spotlight, which we enjoyed, and got caught up on a couple of TV shows we watch as well. I started reading Dennis Lehane’s Edgar Award winning Live by Night, which I was reminded of last night when seeing a preview for the film version coming out in January, and it was yet another one of those books in the TBR pile forever that I thought oh, I’ll get around to this at some point. I’d forgotten it was set in Ybor City and Tampa, both of which I am more than a little familiar with from living there in the early 1990’s.

Tampa is vastly different now than it was when I lived there; when I went to GCLS conference in Orlando (I started to write a couple of years ago before realizing it was more like eight or nine years ago; yikes!) I drove over to Tampa to have dinner with a friend, and in the ten years or so at that time since I’d moved away the city was completely different. I only had dinner, and then drove back to Orlando, but I remember driving in and being completely surprised by how different it was. (I used to drive back and forth between Orlando and Tampa a lot; my friends and I had tired of the Tampa gay bars and on the weekends we couldn’t make it to Miami–or I wasn’t going somewhere, thanks to my airline job–we often would drive over to Orlando to go to clubs there)

I wasn’t happy when I lived in Tampa, but Tampa was where I grew up, for wont of a better phrase. It was while I was living there that my life came together, where I decided that I wanted to be more than just an airline employee, and made the changes needed in my life and my mentality that made it possible for me to have the life I have now. I also kind of liked Tampa; I always thought there was something about the town that would make it a good setting for crime novels. I’ve used Tampa in some of my books, but fictionalized it as “Bay City.” I have an idea for a noir that would use “Bay City” as its setting; it’s one of the books I want to write in 2017.

And, of course, Bouchercon is in St. Petersburg in 2018. Maybe I’ll take a week and explore first. There’s a big cat sanctuary just north of Tampa I’d like to visit, because I also have a book idea actually set in a big cat sanctuary; I’ve been meaning to come over to explore and investigate that for quite some time now.

I could also take a long weekend and let Paul sit on the beach while I explore and research, too. We also spent that long weekend at Saddlebrook, the tennis resort, just north of Tampa as well. (It was what actually gave me the idea for the big cat book; of course there’s also a book in the tennis resort as well.)

But I need to get the one I am writing now written, and so on that note, it’s back to the spice mines.

Here’s a post-Christmas hunk for you, Constant Reader:

Isn’t It Midnight

So this is Christmas.

I overslept this morning, which was a pleasant surprise. I’d intended to get up so I could get going on everything i need to do today, but it simply wasn’t in the cards for me to wake up early (the way I did yesterday). Ah, well, it is what it is, and while I do have a lot of work to do today, if I buckle down I can get it done.

I know, working on Christmas? Deadlines, alas, don’t get adjusted for holidays, and this is my punishment for allowing myself to get so behind in the first place. A few hours of good, solid work though, and I can take the rest of the day off. I also have tomorrow off (Paul’s going into the office) and this is my week of late nights (both Tuesday AND Thursday) so if I can get back on track with some good work today–I can still make the deadline.

We opened our gifts yesterday; I got some lovely things from Paul that I am very happy with, and he also seemed to like his gifts also. So, that was lovely. He went out during the day and got a massage while I worked, and got shrimp po’boys for us on his way home and then we watched the Saints beat Tampa Bay (GEAUX SAINTS!) and then relaxed while watching two movies–Hail Caesar!, which could have been better; and Deadpool, which was a lot of fun. I’m not sure what we’re going to do later–I am sure we’ll find something to watch on the many, various streaming options that we now have. (We were going to get caught up on The Exorcist, but Paul decided it was inappropriate to watch on Christmas Eve. “But it’s about good and evil,” I replied, to no avail.)

I will also do some reading. Yesterday evening I reread an old thriller originally published in 1975; that I think I read sometime in the late 1970’s/early 1980’s, when I was going through my first thriller reading phase: Valley of the Assassins by a long-forgotten novelist named Ian MacAlister, and it was set in the Middle East; more precisely, Iran, Iraq, Oman and then Saudi Arabia. It’s an Indiana Jones-type tale (which I always love) about the search for the tomb of the Old Man of the Mountain, and all the treasure buried with him somewhere in the Arab deserts. It begins with the appearance of a strange map, lots of intrigue and adventure and double crosses, and it had some basis in history–the Old Man of the Mountain really existed (I first learned about him reading Thomas B. Costain’s The Three Edwards, and more in The Conquering Family; an interesting historical figure; he founded the Society of Assassins, and was greatly feared). It was also interesting to reread to see how much the Middle East has changed since the time this book was written, making it very dated.

My thriller/intrigue period of this time was triggered by reading Alistair MacLean’s Circus and Helen MacInnes’ The Salzburg Connection back to back; I went through a very long period where I read many books by those two authors and books by others as well; eventually discovering Robert Ludlum, whom I really loved and read everything by until his death (I’ve not read any of the ‘co-written’ books published yearly since he died).

Reading this, and thinking about these thrillers, has reminded me of something I periodically remember but then it slips away: an idea I had years and years and years ago that I wanted to write about as a stand-alone type book, which then evolved into a stand-alone novel with Colin from the Scotty series as the main character. This is an idea I’ve always loved and wanted to try. The Scotty series, if you will recall, began as a stand-alone and then evolved, because of the contracts, into a trilogy. The final volume of the trilogy was effectively split into two books: Mardi Gras Mambo and Vieux Carre Voodoo (and by this, I don’t mean the mysteries themselves; I mean the personal story of the guys). No one really knows much about Colin other than what he chooses to share with them, and there’s also no way of knowing if what he chooses to share is the truth, part of the truth, or not true at all. The fun thing about having a character who’s a secret agent for hire of sorts is just that: the mystery of who he really is. I thought it would be fun to write a stand alone adventure for Colin himself, so the readers could get to know him better–and know him better than Scotty and Frank do. The idea for the thriller I wanted to write, a thriller based in a treasure hunt based in history in the Middle East, easily melded with the thought of writing a stand alone thriller for Colin; in fact, using that idea for a Colin book makes the most sense.

So rereading this book made me think of that book; and while it never really had a title, nor a definitive answer for what treasure he was looking for in addition to being involved in some international espionage, obviously, I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last day or so.

I’ve also, for that matter, thought about writing a book from Frank’s point of view as well. But the Colin one makes the most sense to me.

Anyway, I digress, and need to get back to the spice mines.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Welcome to the Room…Sara

Christmas Eve, a lovely Saturday morning. It’s supposed to reach a high of seventy-seven degrees today; maybe if I get as much work done as I want to I can take the time out to clean the windows, which are, as always, filthy. I didn’t get as much done yesterday as I wanted–I’m not sure why, but every word yesterday was a struggle and a fight, like drawing blood, but I really have to get moving on this today. I think I’ll be able to get pretty far along today, and another productive day tomorrow can get me back on schedule to finish. I really don’t know why this has been such a struggle, frankly. But if I could learn why I struggle so hard to do something I love, I could rule the world.

I finished watching Season 2 of The Man in the High Castle last night (enjoyed it) and the first season of Eyewitness, which I felt was really high quality and good right up until the last two episodes, when it went off the rails and became completely unbelievable (but I applaud it for its clever plot and for making a pair of gay teens the center of the story, and showing them actually being intimate–kissing and so forth; I also think their sexuality was handled sensitively and honestly; which was really nice. Too too bad about the last two episodes, though). I also finished reading Exit Pursued by a Bear last night.

“I swear to God, Leo, if you throw one more sock, I am going to throw you in the lake myself!” I shout, knees sticking to the vinyl as I turn to face the back of the bus. The boys have claimed the back when we boarded, and since it smelled weird (well, more weird) we were happy to let them have it. I hadn’t expected a constant barrage of hosiery, though.

“Like you could, Winters,” he shouts back. The other boys hoot in laughter.

“I may be small,” I reply, “but I’m crafty.”

“Don’t I know it,” Leo leers, and the hooting devolves into outright catcalls.

I fire back with a wadded sock, barely missing Leo but managing to nail Clarence, who looks properly chastened. I glare at the rest and then turn sharply to face the front, but by the time I’m in my seat again, I’m smiling. The other girls lean in towards me, ribboned braids dropping over shoulders like the least-threatening snake pile in the world. Of course, that’s what the snakes probably want you to think.

E. K. Johnston is a phenomenally successful Canadian young adult writer–her The Story of Owen series looks quite clever (and I am adding it to my list)–and Exit Pursued by a Bear is a very good book, and not only a very good read but a thought-provoking one. The story is told from the point of view of cheerleading co-captain Hermione Winters, and she is telling the story of her senior year, beginning with the trip to cheerleading camp with her team. Unfortunately, at a camp dance one night Hermione is roofied, and she is found the next morning half-naked in the lake. The water has pretty much ruined any chance of forensic evidence, and she herself has little or no memory of what happened to her–the last thing she remembers is trying to find the recycling bin to throw away her empty cup as things start to get foggy.

The book is very well-written and compelling; Hermione’s struggle to deal with being ‘the girl who was raped’ and trying to get her life back together is hard to put down; the way people now react to her and how that makes her feel is painful and sad–how do you deal with people when you’ve been through something horrible and they are sympathetic but don’t know what to do, what to say, to you? But Hermione is a strong young woman with a very great support system which enables her to put her life back together, and that’s the primary focus of the book. And that’s an important story to tell.

If I had a quibble with the book, though, it would be that; Hermione has so much love and support as she puts her life back together, and she doesn’t remember anything that happened to her that night–as she says, “it feels like it happened to someone I know instead of to me”–and she avoids social media so she can’t see what people are posting and saying about her, and for the most part, her friends and the other cheerleaders gather around her to create a protective shell…which kind of seemed a bit too good to be true to me, if that makes sense? I just felt that–don’t get me wrong, I liked the book a lot and recommend it–she should have had to face some of what most girls in her position have to in the real world.

Rape culture is a very real thing, no matter how much some people may want to pretend that it isn’t. I, like so many others, was horrified by the two primary cases illustrating this sort of thing–the Steubenville and Marysville cases a few years back–and of course, the ones detailed in Jon Krakauer’s Missoula. I recently watched the heartbreaking documentary Audrie and Daisy (Daisy is the girl from Marysville) on Netflix (I urge everyone to watch it, especially if you have daughters–and watch it with your daughters), so after seeing how these kinds of stories actually play out in the real world made the written-for-young-adult-audience sense of this one seem almost like a cop-out.

But that doesn’t lessen the impact of this book by any means. It’s also heartbreaking, even if to a lesser degree than the true stories, which I suspect motivated Johnston to write the book in the first place.

Although I would love to see what Megan Abbott could do with the same kind of story.

And now, back to the spice mines.

Family Man

Good morning, four day weekend!

I was sleepy again last night, even dozing off before Paul got home (he’s been working late every night this week) so we could watch the end of the first season of Yuri on Ice (which was wonderful)and so it wasn’t difficult for me to get a good night’s sleep, which was also absolutely lovely. I have to run some errands today, but other than that I am going to spend the day writing and cleaning the house. I absolutely must get back on schedule with it. Last night I finished a difficult chapter, and then did some planning on what needs to be done. As always, this helped, and probably should have done that before I hit the homestretch; that might have helped me through the last few weeks.

One day I will learn, no doubt. (As if!)

I also hope to finish reading Exit Pursued by a Bear today. I’m not sure what the next book I’m going to select from the TBR pile will be; I am thinking maybe something horror, or maybe a reread, or a classic. I’m not certain, but I shall make that decision once I get through this one. It’s a riveting and incredibly poignant read; I am definitely going to write about it when I am finished.

I also watched a couple of episodes of The Man in the High Castle last night, which I am still enjoying–it has some interesting things to say about choices–but there’s also a bit of Oh, really? sometimes–which is fine; that happens sometimes with shows (books, movies, etc., but doesn’t stop me from enjoying them; I just had to work harder to suspend belief).

I did do a pretty good job yesterday on the kitchen; there’s just a few final touches it needs–there are always some little odds and ends I don’t have a place for, which is incredibly annoying as you can imagine.

All right, I should get back to the spice mines. Here’s a hunk for today: