I haven’t been to my hometown since the Summer before the pandemic hit and shutdowns began. The way there, though a bit changed, was still as familiar as ever.
We had a really slow and relaxing morning. Took our time waking up, getting ready. The kids are pretty practiced with long rides and it was the least stressful road trip ever.
My two favorite activities for long trips, although the reading doesn’t last long these days. The kids took naps and watched the trees go by. My husband loves the city I’m from about as much as I do. We lived here for a couple of years, when we became a family of four. We honeymooned here when it was just us. I love that he loves it.
Our last stop before settling in at my mom’s was a Greek diner just across the street. Very popular around here. Memories of the years my kids were very little and the many times we ate here. It feels good to be home.
I had tried to reread these books a while back, but I got distracted. What’s new? As I tried reading the Laughing Corpse, most of the story came flooding back. I skimmed through to catch some forgotten pieces and moved on to The Lunatic Cafe. This is feeling less newly familiar.
It’s fun going back to books from the 90’s. There’s a whole feel to the decade caught in those pages. The jokes, the perceptions, the technologies. It’s easy to forget how far we’ve come and looking back can be both comforting and enlightening.
I was going to just keep reading the Fever series for Summer. I love Mac and Barrons and getting them out of my head was not happening. Well, the sixth book is from Dani’s perspective and I’m just not as captivated by her. I’ll read it eventually. It’s very good. I’m just not in the mood anymore.
Some of that might also be due to seeing Laurell K. Hamilton talk about her new books often enough that I’m biting at the bit to read them. Except it’s been years since I’ve read one and I started reading this series almost 20 years ago. Wow! 20 years!
I borrowed book one, Guilty Pleasures, a few weeks ago from the library (my first copies of books tend to wander off) and realized I had actually reread this twice already and could clearly remember enough of it to move on.
So new plan. I’m going to dive right into this series from book two to get caught up for books 32 and 33. I think I left off after book 22. I had toddlers and a baby to compete for my attention back then. So I’ve got lots of new stories ahead of me!
Made this in a college pottery class before I had to drop out. That class was very influential for a lot of my life since.
I have always loved sociology, I just never knew that’s what it was called until college. Then I realized it’s the one interest at the core of all my other loves. Linguistics, literature, psychology, sexuality, economics, history, anthropology, … all of them are through the lens of how and why we construct our social structures. For me, at least.
So many people are craving black and white solutions, answers, rules, ignoring the only result to that is a constrained and dreary life. It’s easy to let others think for you. To reassure yourself that everything is that simple. But it’s not.
I crave the complexity of life. Just our bodies are a microcosm of an entire reality. It functions within its own understanding, but is not without constant external influences. The ability of our perspective to steer how it all functions is incredible. Thought alone won’t create a healthy body, but without the right perspective, all action is ineffective.
Same with life. If we constantly narrow down our view, we limit possibilities. We miss the truth. Someone may be clinging to old thoughts because realizing how wrong they’ve been, or the pain they’ve inflicted is too much. Or behave aggressively to push people away because vulnerability is more frightening than solitude. Some cling to their tribe because starting over is impossible to conceive and loneliness too overwhelming.
It can feel really overwhelming, but when the connections start revealing the patterns it becomes easier to see how all the little pieces influence the whole. The rabbit holes become easier to navigate.
The world is craving some real healing, people just haven’t gotten to the part of acceptance yet. We’re still purging the trauma, the pain. There’s a lot to release. A lot to unpack. A little sociology knowledge would help a great many get some much needed perspective. And maybe help the healing process.
It took a couple (obsessive) days, but I finished rereading the first five books in the Fever series. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to the rest. I’m satisfied.
I remembered the story ending happily. Not in a forced, or cheesy way, but properly. I just couldn’t remember how. It was agony having to go through all that pain with Mac again. To watch her trip herself up and miss the clues. Even knowing it would all be ok. Don’t worry. That’s not a spoiler. The author reassures us at the end of a couple books. Starts the whole series telling us it’s about joy. It still hurt to endure. I had to speed through a bit. (A lot).
This series gets inside of you. In your head. I tried to avoid it. To focus on my story, but it invaded every time. The characters were infuriating, captivating. The whole adventure I’m thinking I can see what’s coming, but I don’t. And I did.
Now to ride out the letdown. I want more. I need a break. I have my own story to tell. This was fantastic inspiration. Motivation. Few books get under my skin this way. My own story has been living there a long time. It’s time to set it free.
I was going to take a break and just focus on writing. I mean, I finally finished the castle floor plans last night and can move past that block. But this series just keeps nagging at my thoughts.
It’s been a ride. I’m tired. I’m worn out. I’m screaming hopelessly into the void with Mac. I’m hanging on for the pockets of success. Her little victories. The assurances of the author that there is hope and rainbows coming. Besides, I can’t leave now.
When I pulled book number five from the shelf, I smiled. This is the cover that drew me in. The new release that called to me from that tiny, one room library all those years ago. Twelve, it’s been twelve years. I can hardly believe everything that has occurred in that time.
So here I go. Into the fray with Mac, while ensuring my own characters don’t get bored waiting for me. Anyone else have a room in your head where all your characters hangout? Like a green room? Can’t just be me.
I’m beginning to remember why I stopped reading these books. Don’t get me wrong. I love them, but it gets so tedious at this point in the story. It’s all necessary bits, and done very well, which is why I struggle reading it. I’m trying to speed through. The one I was trying to finish in a day took me two.
In part, because of my boredom, and in part because of something else, I started a double stranded cotton project to become pocket holders for my marble stones. I’ve been trying to figure out the easiest way for me to tote my massage stones and tools around without hurting them. These endless rows of knit are unusually quite pleasing right now. Very easy to do while reading.
The other something was my new soapstone massage stones. My hands have been protesting a lot lately and I was looking for a tool that would lengthen my career some more. I think I found it. They are a delight in my hands and make the deep-tissue work I do a pleasure again. Their calming energy helps immensely.
Since these will go everywhere I go, they get their own pouch. I made it up quick, with an extra layer sewn into the base, and a small rectangle of cloth to keep them from chipping each other. So, once I finish this book and these projects, it’ll be back to writing.
I’m finally getting into actually writing the first draft of my gothic fairytale. I’ve done enough research, backstory writing, and outlining to begin the tale and have gotten a few pages done. It feels good.
But, I’ve got two books checked out of the library from one of those series I want to finish and they’ve already been renewed once. I really would hate to return them unread.
So, I guess today I’ll be reading. Maybe I can read a book in a day.
This seems to be happening a lot this Summer. Well, more than I’m used to, anyway. I had another client cancel last minute, so I find myself with some time to fill.
I went and got a coffee that’s iced, frothed with steam, and actually has cinnamon and spice (cayenne) in it. It is my favorite local coffee shop and the coffee is delicious. That only took a few minutes.
I actually brought food today. Maybe not the most exciting lunch, but it’s perfect for between massage clients. Just not usually with this much time between.
I also brought my new book. I’m dying to read it. Friends are dying to hear what I think. But I’ve been distracted with that gothic fairytale romance I’m writing and I’m still trying to read the last couple books of a romance/fantasy series I’m in the middle of.
So, another 45 minutes or so left until my last appointment. Let’s get to reading about menopause- puberty in reverse.
Garbage draft. The one before the first draft. I have two more of these with all the outlining and research. I’m still in the handwriting phase.
I was trying to focus on the novel I started in high school, but noooo, this fairytale retold kept horning in on my thoughts. I tried to start writing it, but noooo, I needed to do historical research on many subjects. Then I had to write up an outline of each main characters’ backstory. Get a better feel for each of them. The male main character wasn’t even supposed to get a point of view!
After all that I stayed up for two days writing, and wrote for two days more. I had to get pivotal backstory scenes clearer in my head. Flush out the tragedy of them a bit more, a few more deaths than I had planned on. Then I spent a few days rewriting and rewriting their backstory outlines. I stalled and drew castle maps trying to get a feel for the main setting.
The genre focus has morphed several times and I’m still not really sure what it will become. It’s always been a romance, but it now has a distinct gothic erotica theme going. Elements of horror running through. Trauma response and healing through healthy, and maybe not conventionally healthy, methods. Two people able to truly be all versions of themselves together while they both discover the truth of their own origins and recover from their traumas.
It’s probably clear I’m retelling Beauty and the Beast. While I hate following the crowd, I also refuse to not do the things I love just because a lot of other people enjoy it too. Besides, the more the merrier.
Instead of fur, he will be hiding scars from his dark magic, cult leader mother. She curses him. Beauty will still be fallen nobility, but is known for keeping to herself. When she is the oldest one left at home, and her father an alcoholic, she gets a job at a factory to ensure her siblings’ education in honor of her mother.
It will be historically based, but is set in its own reality with a different kind of magic. Putting one of the worlds I’ve created into a story on paper is an entirely new adventure for me. I’m grumpily enjoying myself. I don’t usually share my dark side.
Amusingly, I’m not able to listen to music while writing this. I’ve always used music to help put me in the right frame of mind, so it’s strange that watching Murdoch Mysteries is what does the trick (thank goodness there’s 16 seasons). This tale is truly a wild creature. I’m simply getting comfortable and letting it sniff me out until it sees I can be trusted.
The Accidental Domestic Goddess 