Tag: The Cozy Project

Disturbia

I’ve always liked cozies, and several years ago I realized that, outside of Donna Andrews, I wasn’t really reading them as much as I used to; and I wasn’t really sure why that was. As with diverse writers, I decided to turn it into a reading project; I had already done the Diversity Project, and the Reread Project, so why not the Cozy Project? I also decided it would be fun to keep reading Donna Andrews, but rather than trying the writers I had been reading before to try to find new ones, too–much as I love my regular authors, I’ve been wanting to expand my horizons. So I started reading Leslie Budewitz and Julie Henry and Barbara Ross and Ellen Byron and any number of other marvelous cozy writers–and believe you me, there are a lot of them, and getting into the Cozy Project also coincided with the Diversity Project, with marvelous writers like Kellye Garrett (loved her Detective by Day series) and Mia P. Manansala and Raquel V. Reyes and any number of other marvelous cozy authors.

Cozies are the subgenre in crime fiction that probably gets the least amount of respect (romantic suspense being another) from reviewers and other crime writers, but they are beloved by their readers and there are a lot of them. One of the things I am really looking forward to by attending Malice Domestic this year is to find more new-to-me cozy writers. I think it’s because they are “gentle” crime novels; no gore, no blood, no sex, no violence, no swearing. This sets them apart from the rest of the genre–almost at arm’s length, if you will, but I often find these books to be engaging, involving, and entertaining; a lovely respite from the toils and troubles of every day life.

And sometimes you need that escape. I’ve always found solace in books, and that will probably never change until I am in the grave (well, urn, since I want to be cremated).

“He put his foot in those greens.”

Reef stopped and looked at me. Hand hovering midway between bowl and open mouth. A forkful of collards dangling. Juice dripping. His eyes went from nine to Koby’s flip-flop-clad feet to the dark, limp greens in front of him. “You mean like they do with grapes?” Scraping his teeth across the surface of his tongue. he stuck it out and scrunched up his face. “Ugh! Is that how you make ’em?”

A bright, sun-filled afternoon, we were out back of our soon-to-be bookstore and cafe. We’d put out three umbrellaed wooden tables with our logo in the bricked alleyway and scattered brightly colored potted plants around.

“No.” Koby pursed his lips and shook his head at me. “That’s not how I make them. She just learned that term,” he said, and chuckled. “It’s just a saying, Reef. You know. You say it about the person who cooked something that’s really good.”

“So you didn’t actually stick your feet in ’em?” Not moving his head although talking to Koby, Reef rolled his eyes my way.

Body and Soul Food is the first in the Books and Biscuits series by Abby Collette (aka Abby Vandiver), and it’s a winner. Fraternal twins Koby and Keaton were given up for adoption as babies. Keaton hit the jackpot, being adopted by a loving couple (her adoptive father has died; her mom is a psychologist) while Koby went through years of foster homes and foster care before hitting the jackpot in his last group home with Mama Zola. Koby went looking for his family once he was old enough and found Keaton, and now they’ve decided to go into business together in the small town of Timber Lake, just outside of Seattle; a combination bookstore (degree in library science holder Keaton’s side of the shop) and cafe (Koby is a great cook so this is his domain). Reef and Koby were in the same foster homes, so they are sort of friends/brothers close…and single Keaton is more than a little interested in Reef.

But then Reef dies on a commuter train on his way back to Timber Lake from Seattle; Koby and Keaton were planning to meet him on the train and instead find his dead body. Who would want to kill Reef, and why? Koby and Keaton are tops of the suspect list and it doesn’t seem like the investigating officer, Detective Chow, believes them or their story…so around the hustle and bustle of opening the shop the twins are also playing detective, and finding out who Reef really was; the more things they learn about Reef only tend to make the tragedy worse; usually, the deeper into the investigation gets the more unlikable the victim becomes, but that isn’t the case here. Koby and Keaton also use the investigation to help them deal with their grief over losing Reef–Koby lost a brother; Keaton a potential love interest–and finding out that almost everyone who knew him had nothing bad to say about him, and in fact nothing but good things, makes the loss even more painful for the pair.

There’s also a great supporting cast, and I really enjoyed my visit to Timber Lake; and am really looking forward to reading the next book in the series as well as more of Abby’s work under whatever name she chooses to brand her books with. I do recommend this very highly; it’s quite fun, it’s well written and the story flows really well, and of course, Koby and Keaton are really likable.

More, please!

Deck the Halls

Christmas Eve is a week from today. How did this happen?

Not that I mind seeing this year coming to an end, but who knows if 2022 will be any better? I’ve always had that issue before with people being thrilled and/or happy that a year is coming to an end: the change of a calendar day doesn’t really mean a fresh start, or an “out with the old in with the new” reboot of any kind; it’s just another day. I know, it’s just symbolic, but people always seem to take it seriously. I hate to be the Debbie Downer raining on anyone’s parade, but…then again, it’s never stopped me before.

I have a lot to do today, and this morning, despite a good night’s sleep and feeling very rested, I am also feeling rather un-motivated. The coffee should help, of course–that’s what it’s for, isn’t it?–so hopefully by the time I have finished a second or third cup my brain should be clearing up and I should be raring to go. One can hope, at any rate. I did watch Johnny Tremain yesterday at long last, and I was right about some things and wrong about others; I did look for some of the queer reading of the story that I read about in an article I ran across while looking for the movie the other day–it’s there if you look for it–so now of course I want to take some time at some point and reread the book (and yes, I am thinking there’s an essay in there for me to write someday; I really need to start writing these essays that I think up else they will never get done). It’s been a very long time since I read the book, so I am not certain whether I am remembering the book itself or the film. Still, I should reread the book at any rate.

I have also picked out my book to read for the weekend–and have definitely landed on Death by Dumpling by Vivien Chien. I kind of want to see the new Spider-man movie, No Way Home, but I am not sure that I really want to be sitting in a movie theater in the suburbs right now with a crowd of people with questionable vaccination status. I’ve been vaccinated and boosted, but at the same time I’d rather not become a carrier, even if I only get mildly sick from an infection. I am excited to read it, to be honest; I am really enjoying this trip I am taking down Cozy Lane, and of course I am saving the latest Donna Andrews as a Christmas treat for myself next weekend. I’ve not picked out my watching for today’s condom packing adventures yet–there’s a plethora of things to choose from, and I did spend some time looking at what’s new on several of the streaming services last night, but there’s such an overabundance it’s difficult to choose anything. I also need to figure out what I’ve agreed to write and when it is due; I think I’ve agreed to do any number of things and so of course I need to compile a detailed to-do list so I can work my through it. And of course, the house needs cleaning and organizing as it always does. Heavy sigh. I really need to let go of the self-defeating mentality that the insane standard of cleanliness ingrained into my head by my mother is not achievable to anyone with three full-time jobs and stop beating myself up over it, seriously.

And the good news this morning is that my shoulders don’t feel sore at all anymore, so I think the strain has finally healed, so I can go back to the gym this weekend. Huzzah! I would also like to take a walk around the Garden District after sunset at some point so I can take pictures of the Christmas decorations, but there just never seems to be enough time in the day to get everything done.

I had a lovely evening last night hanging out with friends I’d not seen before Hurricane Ida; it was lovely catching up, talking about books and writing and TV shows we’ve watched and getting caught up in general with everything. It was also really fun to laugh really long and hard again–something that’s been missing in my life for far too long, or at least has become too much of a rarity since the World Closed Down. I think we are all kind of missing out on joy, if that makes sense? Paul and I have already made up our minds to try to enjoy ourselves as much as we can in 2022–which is the only kind of resolution I can get on board with; I think maybe if we all decided to spend as much time as possible in 2022 finding joy in life and the world–well, maybe things could turn around. I am tired myself of all the darkness and bad news and the constant gloom and doom that seems to be our world and our existence now. So, even if the face on insurmountable odds, I am determined to remain cheerful and happy and to always try to find the joy in things. As Ted Lasso says, “be curious, not judgmental.”

And there’s really so much to be curious about!

And on that note, as the coffee begins to kick in, I am heading into the spice mines. Y’all have a lovely day, you hear? And happy Friday, Constant Reader–hope you have a lovely weekend.

Some of Shelly’s Blues

Thursday, and Gregalicious is working at home today. Huzzah? Huzzah! I do like working at home; it always has been best for me to work in isolation; my attention span is such that being around co-workers inevitably means distraction and lower productivity than I would prefer. This is especially true when I am doing data entry; it’s much easier to make mistakes and get distracted when others are around and talking, even if they aren’t talking to me. The printer/copier/scanner (business sized) is right behind where I sit at my cubicle, so every time someone prints something or needs to copy something I see them approaching out of the corner of my eye and they are right behind me as they go about their business. It’s a bit awkward to not acknowledge them or for them not to say anything to me, so when we used to operate at full capacity with everyone in the office I generally had a short conversation with everyone who was printing or scanning or copying…which, as I mentioned, is distracting when you are doing data entry and trying not to lose your place and be accurate. I’ve also gotten really used to there not being anyone else in the office since I myself went back to working a few days in the office every week in July 2020. Even now, we are still not at full capacity and not everyone has returned to the office yet–certainly not all at the same time, the way it used to be–and it’s going to be incredibly weird when we get to the point where we are all back in the office again.

Incredibly weird.

So for now I will continue to enjoy my working at home days, doing data entry and then when my eyes get bleary or start crossing, moving back to my easy chair so I can watch a movie or a television show Paul doesn’t watch while I make condom packs (seriously, if I got paid by the pack I’d probably make a lot more money than I actually do).

I felt great all day yesterday; a holdover from going to the gym Tuesday night, no doubt, and I was in a really good mood as well. I got a lot done yesterday–I realized, yesterday when writing my blog (and discussed it here) that I hadn’t really gotten a feel yet for my main character’s voice, and that was part of the reason why I’ve been struggling with the manuscript. So last night I started writing a biography of her, trying to get inside her head, to understand her point of view and how she feels about the world and how she sees it; I was making her a little more namby-pamby, I think, than I wanted her to be. I want her to be strong and capable, but also a bit unsure of herself; I want her to be feeling a bit of dissatisfaction with her life, not so much because she’s made bad choices but because in a lot of cases in her life she didn’t really get to choose her own path. She fell in love and married very young, had twin sons, and then she was raising her sons while working on renovating the old house she and her husband had bought, so the house was her job outside of wife and mother; her husband died suddenly and she went on raising the twins by herself. Now they are off at college and she has reached a point in her life where she isn’t quite forty yet, but doesn’t know what she wants to do with the rest of her life; she kind of thinks she made the easiest choices along the way. It probably also doesn’t help that her two best friends are successful professional women. I want this to be a good mystery series, of course, but I also want to show her journey from a place of what do I do with the rest of my life to having a clear purpose with goals and ambitions and dreams.

And writing her biography helped me with developing the character, so here’s hoping writing the book will become a bit easier now? One can always dream…

And you know what? After I finished the biography, and sat down to revise Chapter 4–I started to feel like I knew her, and what she would say, and how she would react. I feel like she really came to life, both on the page and in my head, in this chapter, and I powered all the way through it, which felt really great. Maybe it was a holdover of the endorphins from going to the gym Tuesday night; I don’t know. But I feel much better about the book and everything else this morning–tonight I will get going on Chapter 5–and I think I can make a very strong push now to get it finished on time.

I also finished reading Donna Andrews’ The Gift of the Magpie last night, which was terrific and fun and the perfect thing to read during Christmas season; she really is masterful at writing about Christmas, and her community of Caerphilly, Virginia, is always delightful to revisit. I enjoyed the visit so much that I started reading the next in the series, Murder Most Fowl, within minutes of finishing the earlier volume–I have others to read, of course, but this wonderful binge-read of Andrews in an attempt to get caught up on the series (only two left, inclusive of Murder Most Fowl), and the next one is another Christmas one…so, yeah. I’ll probably keep going with Andrews until I am all caught up.

We also finished the first season of the original Gossip Girl last night, staying up later than we’d intended to once we realized how close we were to the end of that first season–and the season finale was interesting; they pretty much had gotten everyone to a happy place, so naturally they had to dynamite everything to set up the next season, but I was more than a little disappointed with how they did it. I am not as intrigued to continue watching as I might have been–but it has been a really fun ride, and even the “villain” characters have wound up being a lot of fun to watch–with the exception of psycho Georgina, and Paul and I kept saying (spoiler) “oh for fuck’s sake, Serena, sic Blair on her. What’s the point of having an evil bitch best friend if you don’t take advantage of her skills?”–which she finally did, and it was ever so satisfying.

I just felt like they could have done a better job with the season one cliffhanger situation.

I guess the Saints are playing again tonight–they also played last Thursday–which means this weekend is another major-Louisiana-football-team-free weekend, which should amp up my own productivity. Today I am going to be working here at home, obviously, and then I am going to the gym, and then I want to get some more work on the book done. I made a new to-do list yesterday, and have to say I am very pleased with how well I’ve been doing lately, getting things done; one can never underestimate the motivating power of a to-do list.

And on that note, it’s time to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll talk to you later.