Yesterday afternoon it became clear that having the kids home for the last week (winter break) had sent the few marbles I had left skittering under the futon. A trip to Borders in the Big City was in order. (We have a B&N in the Big Big City, but the last time I was there they had no EC books, so fuggedaboudit. They did, however, have a frighteningly large selection of self-help books. No more trips to that city.)
So we walk into Borders and my mind goes totally blank. Totally. I cannot think of a single book I want to buy. I have post-its and scraps of paper all over my house with book titles and release dates on them, but they never seem to make it into my purse. I stick things into my amazon wishlist sometimes, but I really, really love brick and mortar bookstores the best. They’re not the magical little bookstores of my youth, but it’s a big-ass building full of books and coffee and there’s not much better than that. And regardless of the ease of online shopping, spending two or three hours browsing through a bookstore is a pleasure I’m proud to have passed on to my boys. (My husband usually makes the mistake of sitting down in a chair with a Hemmings and falling asleep, only to be shocked that it’s full dark when we finally leave.)
I usually head straight to the magazine racks for my RT, but I subscribed to that. Instead I’m left wracking my brain, trying to think of a single book I’m looking for. I want When Good Things Happen to Bad Boys, so I go hunting for that with no luck. (The post-it note on my board clearly says April, but again—those little suckers just won’t walk themselves into my purse.)
So I ask myself “What has Angie read lately?”
Working for the Devil by Lilith Saintcrow comes to mind. I’ve seen her name around the ‘net and I remember Angie being willing to bear children for somebody to get her hands on the sequel. I’ve rarely—if ever—been steered wrong by Angie, so I grab it (and finally the new Nickelback CD).
Big mistake. Big.
It’s been my experience as a writer that once in a while a book comes along that makes you throw in the towel. A book so good, so fresh, so freakin’ good that the Muse just curls up in a sniveling ball of inadequacy and you start thinking about how nice it would be to work at McDonald’s. You make more money, get paid in accordance to the number of hours you actually put in, you don’t get form letters if the fries aren’t quite right, and nobody gives a shit if the pickles are passive.
This book is that good—don’t miss it. Just be prepared to coax your Muse out of hiding with a lot of Godiva if you’re a writer.
I have a copy buried in some junk I just moved when I broke my desk (long story). I’m going to have to uncover it!!
Wierd serendipity, babe. I just spent a scary amount of money on Amazon transfering my “so-and-so said this was good on her blog” list into my order list. I’d do the bookshop thing, but the likelihood of my finding the books I want in UK bookshops is slim to none, you lucky romance-loving people, you.
And I love/hate books like that. Love the enjoyment, the transportation. Hate the “I’ll never be even lightyears close to this good!” feeling!
Have I ANY idea what I’m saying these days? I just re-read that and thought, “way to post irrelevances, Anna.”
Yeah! I love that people want o read my book – yes, I am deluded enough to think it’s me and not superstars Lori Foster and Erin McCarthy people want to see :lmao:
But, you’ve also managed to ruin my morning. I just bought WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. I kept seeing it everywhere and, even though it’s not my usual thing, figured it was time to check it out. Sounds as if I’ll need a prozac drip with this one. Good thing I just turned a book in or I’d likely read DEVIL then decide my sutff is garbage and have to delete all 380 pages and start over again. On second thought, what’s stronger than prozac…
Trust me, Shannon
Working in the fast food industry can NEVER EVER be deemed a feasible alternative to writing. EVER!
I was going to equate fast food district managers to Hitler, but there’s a better comparision. Picture the plastic Santa replacement in the Santa Clause II, or whatever it’s called. Mostly tyrants hidden under cheerful facades.
I shudder at the memories. And babe, you better not put not one extra pickle on that bun. GADS.
Bummer on the desk, Alison, but it’s a good excuse to clear the piles. :rofl:
Hate the â€œIâ€™ll never be even lightyears close to this good!â€ feeling!
Exactly! And there’s a part of me who wants to email the author and ask her how long it took her to write this one, but I’m too afraid she’ll say 4 months and I’ll have to jump off a bridge. :baby:
yes, I am deluded enough to think itâ€™s me and not superstars Lori Foster and Erin McCarthy people want to see
My post-it says “HelenKay Brava April” so :neener:
And the worldbuilding, in particular, is amazing. Complex and intelligent and…seamless. And nowhere have I had to yell “Yes, I GET it already!”
:thumb: as that movie guy would say.
*crosses fast-food off alternate career options* Blech!