in class last night, my mind wandered and my hand wrote in cursive. the only time i write in cursive is to sign my name. looking at the paper, my cursive resembles a third grader’s. it looks i’m writing in another language. pig latin and cursive. i don’t remember when i stopped writing in cursive and returned to printing.
cursive is supposed to be fluid and therefore easier to write, but when have i ever taken the easy route?
our homework this week is to write a terrible story.
i said,” well, it never hurts to ask or to buy a lottery ticket.” he said, “i’ve got one right here on my desk. if i win, i’ll buy you a condo.” i said, “pinky swear.”
what do you do what you’re so full of wishing and wanting and hopes and dreams and goals that you’re anchored to the floor? how do you transition from thinking to doing? i can feel the clock ticking, each vibration signaling another lost moment, another second where my inactivity wins and my passions remain on hold.
fear. it is the time of year for that.
i downsized my usual starbucks drink from a grande to a tall. a small but necessary change in my battle to make healthier choices. the fight wages because i’m unable to work out like i used to (dang foot) which means the only option left is a diet overhaul. i’m beginning to listen to my body and it’s telling me something i’m putting in it is wrong. it’s causing its own war and as the battlefield and the soldiers, i’m left feeling sick and tired. i’m exhausted. i need to do my best sherlock holmes impression to figure out what the culprit is.
like the trees outside, i’m ready to fling my leaves and bare my soul. be gentle with me.
left in the wake of AC’s departure, someone had to step to the stove. i’d been entrusted with the christmas eggs recipe, so i was the logical choice. after whisking and stiring and steaming and worrying and checking, the end product was not far off. after plating the eggs for my fellow writing retreaters, i sat down to a text message from her:
“don’t forget the special ingredient: love.”
i quickly texted back, “how about fear?”
i was only half kidding. AC is a killer in the kitchen and a giant when it comes to writing and is it any surprise she’s one of my main role models? but with her presence no longer here at #rockportwriting, i only had myself to rely on. i was in charge of seasoning my story and stirring the plot of the christmas eggs. there was no room for fear. only action.
and then this morning, we were faced with a lot of leftovers and only a half planned morning meal. the ingredients for christmas eggs were still in abundance, so i volunteered to whip up another batch. this time, i was in control. i gripped the spatula and added patience and love to taste.
who says you have to be crowded into the living room, kitchen, and/or dining room to hold a book club? we are ladies of the 21st century. we don’t need no stinkin’ couches. so pull up a blog and join in the conversation.
the members of the BOOK HUNGRY are (alphabetically): patty blount, kelly breakey, blake leyers, karla nellenbach, and myself. we pick a book to read. we discuss via phone. we post a review on our individual blogs the 3rd thursday of the month. click on their names above and enjoy.
this month’s BOOK HUNGRY selection is:
HOSTILE WITNESS by rebecca forster
what it’s about from amazon:
When sixteen-year-old Hannah Sheraton is arrested for the murder of her step-grandfather, the chief justice of the California Supreme court, her distraught mother turns to her old college roommate, Josie Bates, for help. Josie, once a hot-shot criminal defense attorney, left the fast track behind for a small practice in Hermosa Beach, California. But Hannah Sheraton intrigues her and, when the girl is charged as an adult, Josie cannot turn her back. But the deeper she digs the more Josie realizes that politics, the law and family relationships have created a combustible and dangerous situation. When the horrible truth of the murder is uncovered could save Hannah Sheraton or destroy them both.
my opinion:
ick. ew. blerg. make it stop. do i have to keep reading? why did karla pick this? i can usually decipher why one of my gals picked a particular book, but this? this is not what i was expecting out of karla. why does everyone else in the world seem to be talking about this book too? thank goodness it was free. ugh. this is painful. do i have to keep reading?
i did finish the book, but very begrudgingly, or to give you a taste of what it felt like to read it: i picked up the book. i opened the cover. i sat down on the couch. i flipped to the page where i left off and i began to read again after i crossed my legs and leaned back against the cushions. i paused while reading, checked the time, checked all the things on the internet, fixed a snack of an apple and peanut butter, turned off the kitchen light, brought my snack back to the couch and then i read some more.
catch my drift? my whole drift? every single movement of my drift?
the details in this book were overkill. every single action was explained to ad nauseum and yet, there was little to no information about the characters and their motivations. what little there was, well, the characters were awful and not in the “they’re flawed” sort of way. in the “i could care less about them” kind of way. they weren’t relatable or understandable or funny or charming or smart. they were clueless in a way that felt manufactured by the author instead of because that’s the way some humans are.
the entire book was uneven. the pacing, the plotting, the characterization, the information dumps. UGH. basically, it felt like the author didn’t trust us as readers and the entire book was dumbed down as a result. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but i hated this book and if the only good that comes out of me reading it is that you don’t, well then, i’ll consider it a battle won.
who says you have to be crowded into the living room, kitchen, and/or dining room to hold a book club? we are ladies of the 21st century. we don’t need no stinkin’ couches. so pull up a blog and join in the conversation.
the members of the BOOK HUNGRY are (alphabetically): patty blount, kelly breakey, blake leyers, karla nellenbach, and myself. we pick a book to read. we discuss via phone. we post a review on our individual blogs the 3rd thursday of the month. click on their names above and enjoy.
this month’s BOOK HUNGRY selection is:
GONE GIRL by gillian flynn
what it’s about from amazon:
my opinion:
this book is SO not up my alley. it’s darker and seedier and more haunting and less laugh inducing than the books i normally choose to read. plain and simple, this book is unbelievably effed up and i hated the characters, but I FREAKING LOVED THIS STORY.
the characters are so vivid and unrelenting and flawed and malicious and wild and raw and not nice, but they remain entirely true to form throughout the whole book. it’s something i value — when the author lets the characters shine through which in turn blots out any hint of their own voice or agenda. these characters are mean and ugly and hideous and i’m sure they were delicious and horrible for gillian flynn to write. it takes some major guts to write characters that are this unlikeable and unrelatable. BRAVO, gillian flynn. BRAVO.
my very favorite part is the ending. it’s completely creepy, but absolutely spot on and exactly how the characters should/would/could have acted. i might have laughed* when it was over because i couldn’t believe flynn pulled off something this insane, this intense.
(*said laugh was of the menacing variety and also one born out of relief because if the book had gone on, it would have crossed a very dark line and i don’t know if i would have recovered from that.)
if you want a book that will take you on an incredible ride (from part II on), read this.
Abigail Mumford 