Friday, September 27, 2013
Last Call at the Bar
Well, I thought about getting drunk and having a blog full
of nothing by self-pity and whining and they’d we’d finally get over the
melancholy and start telling dirty jokes and laughing. But it seems like most
of that has all been done…
I’ve wiped this bar a thousand times, from the first one I
put together, made up of old scraps lying about the deck. Some I fished out of
the water. The Kraken brought me more. I salvaged nail and used my shoe to
hammer it together. Only sat one, but the rest of you were willing to wait for
a turn. Or Hels would come by and kick Jack outta the way so the rest had a
chance.
Then I had the great fancy bar, but it really were a bit
much. And though Hector liked it, he was willing to help me start anew when we returned
to our less grand digs. At least he found me some shelves that weren’t so
warped. And time passed…
Tales we told to each other, and drinks we shared,
friendships were forged and oaths sworn. And now? Now the Revenge prepares for
its greatest adventure…into the unknown depths of the cyberseas. And who knows
what she’ll find there?
I imagine, years from now, we writer selves will meet our
pirate selves upon a sandy beach, still warm from a day’s sun, the sky full of
a million stars bursting so bright one could read by them.
The pirates will step to the beach, eyes telling impossible
stories of where they’ve sailed and what they’ve seen, the creatures they
discovered, the treasures and troubles they earned.
And we writers? We will be wise with the knowledge of life,
friendships and learning. Some with children, some with dogs, cats…partners.
Precious books in hand, read and written. I can see Christie, a kitten on each
shoulder, head shadowed by the deep hood of her jacket, bopping to the music
filling her head from the earbuds. Fran will smack her shoulder, dislodge one
of the kittens and hand it back as the earbuds fall away.
Terri, Marnee and Halleigh… Santa, J Perry, Lisa and Sabrina…Donna
and Leslie…and the familiar visitors, Janga, Quantum, P. Kirby, Irish… What a
grand party it will be!
Off to the side, a fire roars, and two familiar voices call
out. Jack and Hector stop their constant bickering long enough to welcome back
all the pirates, real and cyber.
Me? I’ll be there. I’ll be handing out drinks, all the
favorites. The Glittery Hooha, The Mighty Mast, The Cock & Balls, The
Bo'sun Burner, The Penis Pill, Silent as Sin, The Wild Cock, Hells' Fire, The
Marneasy, The Rum n'Bum, The Seething Passion, The Booty Call, Sandy Pirate Sex,
Wild Undead Monkey Sex , The Captain's Cocoa Puff, The A'moral Compass, The Kraken's Feast ,The
Facegod, The Bombay Bomber, Stephanie's
Flaming Double Stuffed Twinkies, Full Sail Frappuccino, The Double Dori, The
Terrio Speedwagon, and more, or so many more! (If you want the full list, send
me an email, I’ll send it to you.)
We’ll sing all night, swap stories and lies, kisses and
maybe more as I suspect the Bandits will come with the Hotties they employed
who lost their posts when the Revenge went off. The party will never end, and
slowly, the pirates and the writers will remember each other and as the sun
rises, we’ll be taking up the oars and heading for the ship…she waits for us,
just past the horizon.
And I got nothing more to say. 2nd Chance is such a deep
part of myself, and I came to love her and want her and…want to be her. To me,
the Revenge will always be there, on the horizon… The Kraken’s Mirror started on this ship, in more ways then I’ll
ever reveal. And from that first, came the rest. Thank you, Hellion, Terrio,
Marnee, Hal and all for letting me crawl aboard and create my other self. We
have danced, and sung, drank and written, and thrown our critics to the Kraken…
Now, the wind fills our sails and the ship…she slips away.
I’m off to cry. Then get drunk.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
The Power Of Inclusion...
As the newest crew member on The Revenge I wanted to use my last blog post to not only thank the rest of the crew for the wonderful opportunity, but also for the personal support that I know will continue on beyond the life of this blog.
Of all the things being part of this crew has given me, the lesson that will resonate forever with me is the power of inclusion. Being a newbie writer, struggling to find my way, to feel as if I had the right to call myself a writer, to find some sense of foothold along the treacherous path writers endure, something magical happened when I was officially asked to become a blogger with The Revenge.
Now I might not have blogged that often, nor can I claim to have given any immensely compelling insight into the writing process, but my inclusion as a member of this crew might have helped me more than my posts helped anyone else.
Advice. Support. Straight talk. Cheerleading. Reminders about big girl panties. Validation.
This crew has provided me with these and so much more and it all came down to the power of inclusion. They included me. By asking me to join their group it went beyond just writing a few blogs.
It lit a fire in me. I went from having spent two years trying to write my first book, to finishing the first, entering my first writing contest, outlining two more books while starting book two. Inclusion can do that.
All it took was someone asking me to be a part of something bigger than the blank page in front of me.
This crew has taken me beyond what I could have done on my own simply by making me feel apart of something bigger that gave some legitimacy to the time I spent writing.
So with my last post I want to leave this crew and our readers with this one point - include someone.
Whether it's just including that writer you see sitting alone at a conference or asking a newbie like myself to join a blog or critique group, extending an invitation to them will mean so much more than you can image.
My writing journey really started when I signed up for the amazing Judi McCoy's writer's boot camp at the RT Booklovers Convention. As you all know, Judi was an amazing woman who lived to include, to build-up, and to empower young writers. At the same time I met Judi I met an equally amazing, and honestly, an even more empowering woman for me - Maureen, our own lovely 2nd Chance. Both took it upon themselves to connect with me and I will be forever grateful and in awe of their selfless acts to help new writers.
What began with these two woman was lifted into something affirming and life-changing when Terri extended the invitation to become a writer here on The Revenge. It was the power of inclusion. Thank you so much for including me, for giving me a sense that I could conquer the blank page. Your invitation took me out of solidarity and allowed me to identify as finally, a "writer."
My dear crew, I'd love to hear your stories of being included - whether with your writing or personal life. Was there a special moment that has stuck with you as being a deal-changer or had long-lasting personal meaning? How did you come to join The Revenge?
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Having Perspective: Or "I Got a Whole Lot of White American Girl Problems"
A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS is the second book by Khalid
Hosseini, who also wrote The Kite Runner, which I have read yet but will since
completing this book. His writing is poetic, almost soothing to read, even as
you’re reading about such horrific monstrosities. There were parts I was
basically reading through my fingers because it was like watching a horror
flick for me. This book came out in 2007, so as you might notice, I’m clearly
not on any bandwagons or following anyone’s book clubs very quickly, but always
better late than never. Quite frankly, I think the Universe was having a bit of
a laugh at my expense because the last eight days have been less than my
favorites in my life. In fact, if there comes a point where the Counselor and I
are looking at my life on an iPad, I’ll be like, “Just skip those days. I’d
rather not remember them if it’s all the same.”
But then I read this book, and what I’ve got is White
American Girl problems.
The main character of this book is Mariam, and this chick
has problems. So while I was pissed about my job and righteously thinking up
ways to send my resume all over God’s green earth, I’d read this and go, “Well,
at least I don’t work there. Under the Taliban.”
And it made the work week slightly more bearable. I at least
didn’t go around with signs and saying, “You’re oppressing me!” because you
know, if you want to be comparative about it, I’m clearly not. I may be a bit
misused, but clearly, if it’s a real problem, I can find a new job—and that’s
totally allowed in this country, so long as you can find another. Eventually I
hope they’re not so thin to the ground and I can find something better. I’m not
stuck in a house I’m never allowed to leave, being beaten and denigrated daily,
and making rice for an ungrateful asshole.
Then my relationship bubble burst, and that just degraded a
whole other aspect of my life and I was feeling sorry for myself, poor betrayed
heartbroken creature I am. And then I thought, “Well, at least I didn’t have to
live like Mariam and her marriage. I can move on or do something; in her
country, that’s not the option.” Which I basically thought every single time we
had to be in her POV and her husband decided to be his usual garbagy self.
It’s a story about how you know if you’ve lived a good life,
no matter how horrific its circumstances were, because that’s one of the
conclusions Mariam draws: she loved and was loved by the important people in
her life and her life mattered. So again, not a bad thought to be reminded
about while I was having my white girl problems.
Anyway, I totally recommend it. The writing is absorbing;
the plot is absorbing; the characters are memorable. I think I will always remember
Mariam as a heroine. And the last line of the book made me sob—so you know that’s
a good book. I mean, it was a “happy ending” of sorts, but the expense at which
it came was so great…you just seem to appreciate it all the more. I think we
should all read more of these kinds of books so we can all keep our white girl
problems in perspective.
What do you read when you need to put your life in
perspective? Anything memorable where you went: DAMN, I don’t have problems
like that, Thank God….
Monday, September 23, 2013
Black Moments
Well, if you knew me well, you knew I loved talking about black moments in books.
This week, there's been a lot of Black Moments roiling around me, threatening to sink my ship every five to ten minutes. There were days this week I came home and cried--and you know as well as I do there is no crying in pirating. I was so quiet and sad tonight at the farm, my dad grabbed my hand as I was leaving--and he doesn't do that, you see--and I asked if anything was wrong, and he just smiled and I knew he knew something was wrong I couldn't talk about. Which only made me love him more.
I was thinking about that incident on the drive home, how I was having a Black Moment...and it was the kind that has literary fiction all over it. But then I remembered that my current reputation with bad days is that I've survived 100% of them and even been happy again, so it stands to reason even if I'm a little sad, in the midst of a Black Moment now, and it seems all hope is lost--well, I write genre fiction and the Black Moment is never where the book ends. And if it's still a Black Moment, then it's not the end. Goddamnit.
So if we're all a little sadder than usual this week, if we all feel we're in the midst of a Black Moment from which no light shall shine again, just remember--if you're still in the Black Moment, it's not the end and just sail on until you do get to Tortuga...and there is rum and hotties and publishing contracts and everything you've dreamed of. It's all going to be okay.
So I'm sorry this isn't a glamorous send off with a parody and dancing hotties and everything else my reputation begs me to present here for my very last blog on the ship, but it is a bit like the speech from BRAVEHEART, when William Wallace rides up and down the line of gathered Scotsmen and says, "They may take our lives, but they will never take our FREEDOM!"--sorta like that.
Black Moments may take our happiness for a while, but they will never take our hope. And as you also know, if we writers didn't suffer, we wouldn't have anything worth writing about--so really, the suffering is just part of the gig.
So not sure what the questions should be--maybe "If Hellie had not been in the doldrums, what would have liked to have seen for the last blog?"--we can have a little fantasy like that. Or really, talk about whatever...it's the last week. Tangents just beg to be done now.
This week, there's been a lot of Black Moments roiling around me, threatening to sink my ship every five to ten minutes. There were days this week I came home and cried--and you know as well as I do there is no crying in pirating. I was so quiet and sad tonight at the farm, my dad grabbed my hand as I was leaving--and he doesn't do that, you see--and I asked if anything was wrong, and he just smiled and I knew he knew something was wrong I couldn't talk about. Which only made me love him more.
I was thinking about that incident on the drive home, how I was having a Black Moment...and it was the kind that has literary fiction all over it. But then I remembered that my current reputation with bad days is that I've survived 100% of them and even been happy again, so it stands to reason even if I'm a little sad, in the midst of a Black Moment now, and it seems all hope is lost--well, I write genre fiction and the Black Moment is never where the book ends. And if it's still a Black Moment, then it's not the end. Goddamnit.
So if we're all a little sadder than usual this week, if we all feel we're in the midst of a Black Moment from which no light shall shine again, just remember--if you're still in the Black Moment, it's not the end and just sail on until you do get to Tortuga...and there is rum and hotties and publishing contracts and everything you've dreamed of. It's all going to be okay.
So I'm sorry this isn't a glamorous send off with a parody and dancing hotties and everything else my reputation begs me to present here for my very last blog on the ship, but it is a bit like the speech from BRAVEHEART, when William Wallace rides up and down the line of gathered Scotsmen and says, "They may take our lives, but they will never take our FREEDOM!"--sorta like that.
Black Moments may take our happiness for a while, but they will never take our hope. And as you also know, if we writers didn't suffer, we wouldn't have anything worth writing about--so really, the suffering is just part of the gig.
So not sure what the questions should be--maybe "If Hellie had not been in the doldrums, what would have liked to have seen for the last blog?"--we can have a little fantasy like that. Or really, talk about whatever...it's the last week. Tangents just beg to be done now.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thanks...for the memories...
Okay, so you have to have seen a Lawrence Welk show in your past to get that lyric - which is something no self-respecting pirate should ever admit. But this is my last post as a pirate, dammit! And even thought I haven't been here very long, I'm feeling sentimental.
I didn't start out as a pirate, but these wenches...I'm sorry...rather piratey women, invited me to join their crew. And it was great! I love these ladies! They're funny and smart and they never say anything about my addiction to cake and vodka and cake-flavored vodka (mostly because it meant more rum for them).
But every adventure has to have an end and I guess here's where The Romance Writers' Revenge docks for good - I'm assuming in Tortuga - or maybe to see new life as a Carnival Cruise ship (and if that's the case, we should probably take the undead monkey with us).
Let me just say that if anyone on this crew ever needs an assassin for any reason - you know where to find me! Even if you don't need my, um, particular skill set and you just need some idiot to show up and act obnoxious - I'm your gal.
Thanks guys, for letting me play a small part. You always made me feel like part of the crew. I love you all.
And I hope we will all stay in touch because I need each and every one of you. And not just to help dispose of bodies - but for any other reason too (although I should say up front that you probably shouldn't ask me to be a square dancing partner - everything else is okay).
All my love to the crew,
The Assassin
I didn't start out as a pirate, but these wenches...I'm sorry...rather piratey women, invited me to join their crew. And it was great! I love these ladies! They're funny and smart and they never say anything about my addiction to cake and vodka and cake-flavored vodka (mostly because it meant more rum for them).
But every adventure has to have an end and I guess here's where The Romance Writers' Revenge docks for good - I'm assuming in Tortuga - or maybe to see new life as a Carnival Cruise ship (and if that's the case, we should probably take the undead monkey with us).
Let me just say that if anyone on this crew ever needs an assassin for any reason - you know where to find me! Even if you don't need my, um, particular skill set and you just need some idiot to show up and act obnoxious - I'm your gal.
Thanks guys, for letting me play a small part. You always made me feel like part of the crew. I love you all.
And I hope we will all stay in touch because I need each and every one of you. And not just to help dispose of bodies - but for any other reason too (although I should say up front that you probably shouldn't ask me to be a square dancing partner - everything else is okay).
All my love to the crew,
The Assassin
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Empty Nest
This is my pirate goodbye.
I feel like I’m about to have one of those sad montages. You
know what I’m talking about. These scenes have a Boyz II Men song playing in
the background. Us pirates are garbed in white robes and the light of heaven
shines down on us while we tearfully hug one another promising to keep in
touch.
But in all reality, we’re just messing around and we rip off
our white robes to reveal sultry skimpy pirate garb and pull out barrels of
liquor to ply Satan with while we take over hell.
In all honesty, it hit me a little harder than I thought it
would. I’m not much of a sentimental girl. I don’t like hugs. I don’t like
talking about my feelings. But the thought of saying goodbye to a ship’s deck I’ve
spent countless days upon (well, more like all my time in the Crow’s Nest with
the Undead Monkey) is a little sentimental. It was upon the ship’s deck I
realized I could possibly write an original story. I could branch out from just
fan fiction. That I was capable of telling a different kind of story. I’ve
stumbled plenty over the years but reading the encouraging words of this ship’s
crew kept me going when I wanted to just give it up.
I’m really just a girl who likes to wear baggy sweatpants
and hoodies. I stay up way past a reasonable bed time in favor of romancing the
keyboard with my fingertips in an attempt to write the stories embedded in this
mind. Yet, these few year have made me feel like someone who could be a writer. You made me feel like I just had
to put my mind to it and you’d believe I could do it. So thank you to the crew –
the pirates – who befriended a nobody fan fiction writer on the Eloisa James
board and encouraged me to come blog about a subject I really don’t have any
useful knowledge about (writing). And the commenters who stayed with me even
when my blogs turned into crazy rambling attempts to convey writing things. And
the readers who may not have commented but took the time to stop by. Last the
friends I’ve gained from this adventure. We’ll always be friends. That’s what
this is all about.
So thank you. May I see you again in the future; and if not,
good luck with your own adventures. When the going gets tough remember there is
someone out there waiting to read your story. I believe in you Dear Writer.Dear Commenter.
Dear Reader. Dear Friend.
Tell me what’s been
your favorite part of the RWR experience and what you’ll miss the most.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Outlander: Finally Read
To this day, I don’t understand why my favorite professor,
Dr. Barrow will not read the Harry Potter series. He says he can’t get into
them; they’re too unbelievable, etc, etc. I think he’s crazy. However, I also
realize my experience of the novel, Outlander, is probably a lot like Dr.
Barrow’s experience of Harry Potter (though I actually finished reading
Outlander and he cannot say the same for Harry.) After reading—finally finishing—Outlander,
I get it.
Not the Outlander experience or need for an amusement park
or the fandom, per se, but Dr. Barrow’s experience. Some books just don’t work
for an individual no matter how they’re written.
For instance, let’s take the fact that I love: time-travel,
Scotland, history, hot men, angst, humor, sex, and all the varied other things
that Outlander definitely included in its 800 some pages. But the arrangement
didn’t, as a whole, work for me. I cannot deny that Diana Galbadon is a good
writer; that she has an excellent grasp on the history, setting, psychology,
and social aspects of 18th century Scotland; that her description is
painstakingly flawless and as such, I never want to time travel to pretty much
any time before the time I’m living in because I’m way too spoiled. It’s just
in the end, it’s not a romance to me.
Maybe if I had read the series back when it first came out,
I was at an impressionable enough age then to have appreciated it in all its
gory glory, but now, not so much. Now for me, romance is HAPPY. I’m all about
the happy. It’s not that I’m against angst; I do love me some angst, but in the
end, I want me some HAPPY, not the kind of happy for the next five to ten
minutes in which this book seemed to end. Yes, it ended with a HEA resolution
of sorts, for the momentary second, but with all the promise of it all going to
hell again in five seconds.
Which it did. Because there was another book that follows,
right? And so on and so forth, and there’s a book coming out this year or so,
right? She’s like the combined version of Nicholas Sparks and G.R.R. Martin. I
wouldn’t say she writes romance, but she does write a love story; and of
course, like Martin’s fiction, the ending still has yet to be determined.
Now, there were some pages of the 800 or so where I was
like, “Oh, I would like to scan and send that to Deerhunter. That’s so
beautiful!”—but I think the sum total of these pages were 3. They were
beautiful, beautiful words; she completely captured the sentiment and emotion
of true love. And then she followed it up with something gory and dark, and I
was like, “Well, clearly winter is coming.”
This book falls into an odd category for me. It was readable
and the pace picked up considerably where I was reading it all the time I had a
moment last week, but it is not a book I’d keep. I don’t think I would read
beyond this one, but who knows? So if people asked if it was a good book, I
would say, “Yes, it was a good book.” But if they asked if I’d recommend it—or if
it is a must read, not so much. And mind you, this book won a RITA. Apparently the RWA believed it was a romance (rather than a love story).
So what do you think
of epic fantasy novels? A la Outlander…or Game of Thrones…or anything. Are
there some you prefer over others? Or do you avoid them altogether?
Friday, September 13, 2013
Luck – Yup, It’s All About the Luck
What is the one thing that authors seldom talk about when it
comes to being published?
The role luck plays in everything. Good luck and bad luck.
Writers talk about stick-to-itness. About the rules, about
grammar, punctuation, agents, editors, and usually, they won’t mention luck.
Instead, everyone pretends it’s about how hard you work, or
how well you write, or…anything but luck. No one wants to acknowledge luck and
the role it plays.
But, ah…luck. Luck is the wind that pushes one boat just a tad
ahead of another… It’s the ride up the elevator with someone who knows someone
who knows someone who is looking for what you just wrote… Luck is having a
well-known TV personality diss your book and start a sales frenzy that never
seems to end.
That’s not to say that everything else doesn’t play a massive
part and sometimes, one doesn’t need luck, because the rest of life falls into
place to reward your abilities. And sometimes, you have it all, but bad luck
means it takes time…because your dream editor, who probably would have adored
your book…save she was served divorce papers today and you romantic hero has
the same name of her rotten soon-to-be ex.
But for a group that writes so much of luck and chance and
serendipity, it is amazing how many authors won’t acknowledge luck. As if
mentioning it will diminish their accomplishments. But really, it isn’t easy to
court luck. To woo luck and put yourself, constantly, on the road where you
hope luck will pass, see you and take notice. Because there are a lot of times
that luck isn’t on the road, it took a plane that day.
You can’t count on luck, but you can be humble in the presence
of luck. Light a candle to her, or him. However you view luck.
Luck is why I’m alive. If my husband had taken a longer
shower, or fallen asleep with earplugs in…I wouldn’t be here. Luck is why I’m
blogging today… Luck is how I found that swag room at the San Francisco RWA
Nationals and picked up that postcard, left by Terri.
I was lucky to find the Revenge and be part of this wonderful
experience…
And as luck had it, look who sauntered by? It’s Deuce! Or as I like to call him, Ace. And just in time for me and the hubby to leave for Washington DC! "Sweetie, got room on the jet?" (Yes, I'm flying on Friday, the 13th.)
How have
you been lucky?
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Excuses, Excuses . . .
This is my last blog . . . and I forgot to post it last night. This will come as a surprise to no one. In the past two years, I think I've put up my blog late probably half the time.
And really, I have no excuse. There's a reminder in my personal calendar. There's a reminder that get's emailed to me. All the technology in the world is coming together to keep me on track, and I still somehow get behind.
Which got me thinking about excuses, and the kinds of excuses we give.
Has anybody ever come up with some excuse to escape, just to go read? Or write? I have to be honest, I regularly find myself making up excuses to leave a room or a group of people, to go read a book. I like books more than social interaction, but you can't say that to people. "I'm sorry, I much prefer to sit alone in a room with make-believe people than talk to you any more." It just doesn't have a friendly ring to it :)
Anybody else find themselves sneaking away from groups of people to go read a book? What kind of excuses do you give? What's the best excuse you've heard? Anyone else prefer a book to people? (Hellie, I know you're with me on this one!)
And just because it's my last blog:
And really, I have no excuse. There's a reminder in my personal calendar. There's a reminder that get's emailed to me. All the technology in the world is coming together to keep me on track, and I still somehow get behind.
Which got me thinking about excuses, and the kinds of excuses we give.
Has anybody ever come up with some excuse to escape, just to go read? Or write? I have to be honest, I regularly find myself making up excuses to leave a room or a group of people, to go read a book. I like books more than social interaction, but you can't say that to people. "I'm sorry, I much prefer to sit alone in a room with make-believe people than talk to you any more." It just doesn't have a friendly ring to it :)
Anybody else find themselves sneaking away from groups of people to go read a book? What kind of excuses do you give? What's the best excuse you've heard? Anyone else prefer a book to people? (Hellie, I know you're with me on this one!)
And just because it's my last blog:
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Update: Outlander
What about you? Do you mind reading the same book for days--or weeks at a time? What are you reading this week?
Monday, September 9, 2013
Is It Time for a Reunion Yet?
Sadly, ten years later, I still miss FRIENDS. I still
wouldn’t
So in ten years there won’t be a RWR reunion because there
won’t be a need to relive the good times. In ten years we’ll be counting up our
stack of books published between us, pointing at the awards on our mantels, and
talking about the new book we’re writing that is the best thing we’ve ever
done. Because that’s what writers do. We’re always producing the next big
thing.
So our RWR followers who have sailed with us all this time:
thank you, from my heart of hearts. Your kind attention and hearty discourse
made the RWR the best place to be. And to my pirates, keep sailing ahead. Our
best pirating is still before us—and you’re some of the best pirates I know.
So up for discussion: does anyone else miss FRIENDS or is it only me? (That 70s Show and The Big Bang Theory helped immensely with the loss, I must say.) Any good “reunion” shows that didn’t botch it? What is the next big thing you’ll be doing when you leave the ship?
Friday, September 6, 2013
Dreams…
Yeah, I know we be looking ta go our separate ways soon, and
sail off on new adventures on our own, but I thought today…we could dream a
bit…
About the ideal place to go, and who to go with. But being
writers…where would we go and with what writer…
And to make it extra fun…
1)
Real place, living author as guide/mentor/best
buddy.
2)
Real place, dead author as guide/mentor/best
buddy.
3)
Fictional place, living or dead author as
guide/mentor/best buddy.
Now, what sparked this idea? Terri’s posting of a dream workshop
being offered by Eloisa James. In Italy, ten days long. Yeah, really...go look.
Which, I admit, is tasty sounding.
Got me thinking…where would I go and with who?
Being a big reader of fantas/scifi stuff…I sorta had a
difficulty. Since Middle Earth isn’t real…or the myriad of other worlds I’ve
trod across with a fav author… I had to work my imagination!
So… My picks, and why
1)
Tuscany, with Francis Mayes. Why? Okay, I admit, I
haven’t read the book, but I did see the movie, and it seemed to me that she
would be a fabulous guide to the Italian countryside. And I have a feeling…that
for what I write…I’d get more out of wandering about, talking writing with her
than with Eloisa. (As much as Eloisa is a darling…I don’t write real history.
But I do like to dive into the sort of memoir that Mayes wrote.)
2)
Ah…this was fun… And difficult! Alaska, with Jack
London? New York/New Jersey with Walt Whitman? The South Pacific with James
Michener… The Mississippi with Mark Twain… Ireland with Maeve Binchey… Too many
to pick from! (And yes, all authors I feel I could learn a great deal from!)
3)
Oddly enough, I’m not going to go with the
obvious. Nope, not Middle Earth with Tolkien. I think I’d have to go with the
Foundation Universe, with Isaac Asimov. Though the Chicago of Harry Dresden
with James Butcher is tempting…
4)
And just for grins, I’m gonna add one more…
Fictional place/fictional character. Book or movie!
Commander Taylor and Terra Nova! (Though my
alternate might be the Caribbean, with Jack. Or Hector!)
And with that, I get my hottie of the day in!
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