Saturday, August 1, 2015
So, I have a pen pal. The man is seriously the personification of patience as I force him to read my gushing responses to whatever book I happen to be reading. He even asks questions and makes statements in response to my response to a character or my assertions of the ongoing shenanigans in the book. Most recently, I stumbled upon Julia Quinn and I fell a little bit in love, which is why I had to have more. Colin was a secondary character, but lo and behold, Quinn let him tell his story, too! I fell even more in love with him as I read Romancing Mister Bridgerton (in case you're wondering, it's a fantastic read), all the while peppering my correspondence with little tidbits from the story. I was typing up an e-mail to my pen pal (Everyone calls him Nick, but he's always Nicholas to me), telling him how splendid Colin was and how lovely it'd be if we could, as a reader, select a character and beckon them to step from within the pages of the book and be made manifest in our world. He didn't ridicule me and I never even thought about the possibility until someone was reading my e-mail and started cackling. I'll admit that I'm a fanciful girl, but think about it. Some of the girls we read about are interesting and fun. They're BFF material. Oh, and the fellows are truly the men of our dreams. And then there's the people we all love to hate. I can't be the only one who wishes the characters were real and hopefully, I'm not the only silly girl who pesters her pen pal about books and their respective characters.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
So, my little brother flew the coop. Well, he's leaving in his battered and weathered yellow Ford Ranger, heading to his lady love and his new life in Colorado in just a few short hours. He's leaving a little bit early and this was all very quickly decided upon in the first place. His going away present has yet to arrive. Ordered him a Nook. I read. A lot. Physical copies, as well as e-books. Haven't been able to use my Nook in quite some time because my brother pinched it from me. Calm your knickers. I'm okay with him using it. Actually pretty happy about it. My brother is dyslexic and while some people take that to mean stupid, he isn't and he loves reading. In addition to having dyslexia, he also suffered two TBIs whilst he was serving in the military, so he has a few issues with his memory and the like. Since he has been using my Nook, he has powered through multiple series. In fact, he was able to read through them so much more quickly than I anticipated that we had to buy him more books way before we would have had he been reading traditionally. I guess the way we were able to manipulate the font/display and the Nook's natural bookmark really helped him. While I'm on the fence about this move (I'm ALWAYS going to be Sissy, but it's good to be boy-free), I'm sure I purchased the right gift because reading is the magic which engages our hearts and our minds.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Have you ever judged a reader by the genre and/or the intended audience? It's time to 'fess up. I have. I regularly step on toes. Don't always mean to, but that's life in the world of Sarah Leigh. It happens. I'll use Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey as examples. I'm not a fan. I'm just not. I catch myself rolling my eyeballs when I hear someone gushing about how fantastic these books are and in all honesty, it isn't fair of me. I'm a snob. I shouldn't expect everyone else to see it as poorly written just because I see it thusly. And the Grey? Oh, I'll spare you my thoughts on that, but only because I'm trying to remind myself not to rain on anyone else's parade. I will say that it bothers me that the two examples I have used are considered literary greats. I can't wrap my mind around it. I'm trying to be less eye rollin'-like when I see people reading something which doesn't strike my fancy.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I have a friend who loves both series and she is flippin' awesome. She's an intelligent, amusing girl/hardcore feminist, which just proves the concept of to each their own.
Friday, July 24, 2015
So, I work. A lot. I'm thankful for my job, but my hips speak the truth. Sitting for what amounts to thirteen hours and forty-five minutes definitely exacts its pound of flesh or twenty. It's like the Freshman Fifteen on steroids. I like to call it my Eobard, as I liken it to Barry Allen's nemesis, the Reverse Flash, 'cause, Sunshine, it's always around. That's the hazard of modern convenience. We become soft, pudgy, and generally lacking in zombie apocalypse survival skills. Don't get me wrong. I simply ADORE the fact that I'm not working sixteen hour days facing the most unforgiving Florida sunshine, but when the fight or flight hits, I want the option to do both, depending on the situation. Means I have to take steps to save my muscles from atrophy and the blanket of fatty fat fat tryin' to smother 'em.
So, what do I do? A little bit of everything. I fidget. I tap my feet at my desk. I bounce my legs. I tap my desk. I play pattycake. I make my paperwork less efficient. I put my inner office envelops in the appropriate cubbies each time instead of saving all my documents for one delivery because it means I get up and walk around and out of my office throughout my shift. I also pace...around and around and around I go. I pace the perimeter of my office and my break room. I stand. I wiggle. I walk/jog in place. And, when I'm alone, I dance a little jig. I'm sure it makes whoever has to watch the video feed cringe 'cause my moves are fan-flippin'-tastic! Then there's the super secret squirrel isometric gluteal liftin' squeezes. I also bring one of my favorite pieces of #AintGotTimeForExcuses equipment. It's a purse kettlebell. Couldn't find a pink one, but my name is Sarah Leigh and purple signifies royalty, as does my name. Kettlebell squats don't look cute, but they get the blood flowin' into your lower body muscles. I curl for my biceps, I extend for my triceps, and I even manage to hit my deltoids.
Do I have it all figured out? No, but that's not the point. Like everything in life, my office routine is evolving. What I do today will help me do more tomorrow. Do something with me! You can pick up a hand weight or even get your very own purse kettlebell. If you cannot afford to purchase 'em, use what you have. You can use canned food, repurpose milk or OJ jugs by washing them/refilling them with water or sand, and walking is always free. Don't let a moment of #IDontWantTo lead to a lifetime of #ICantBecauseIWont.
I think I started in the middle, but I'm a highly functioning starter de middle girl. I read Julia Quinn's Just Like Heaven and I chortled gleefully almost as much as I breathed. I found Quinn by some Q&A deal in which she and several others were panelists with my cult favorite, Boyle. To say that I liked the book is a gross understatement. I loved it. I think I went into it a bit prepared not to like it as much as Boyle's work, but I was pleasantly surprised. I like Quinn almost as much as I like Boyle and I suspect that if I keep reading, I'll end up liking her as equally.
The pace felt natural, the outcome not at all far fetched, and the characters were haha funny to me. I have no clue if Lady Danbury is featured in any of the other stories, but I hope so. I have a fondness for any character who can accidentally on purpose mangle something so beyond the possibility of repair while brandishing a cane!
And as I am wont to do, I found delight in imagining the stories of a few secondary characters. I'm pretty sure I'm dying to hear Colin Bridgerton's story, as well as Daniel's. And then there's the governess turned impromptu pianist...I think she'll end up in the family.
Friday, July 17, 2015
So, I learned a few interesting facts today. Things which are applicable to me. I like to read. Pretty much everything. Books, magazines, letters, articles, bumper stickers, etc... Today, I was skimming through a few articles reference exercises for legs. Yep. Today was leg day. Pretty much feel like I killed myself, but hey! I'm still upright and there's a certain joy in not dying during leg day. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I somehow stumbled upon an article about fidgeting. Much to the chagrin of my Mother, I'm a fidgeter. Seriously. I'm fidgeting as I type this entry. My fidgeting has been a source of frustration to my Mother forever, but I always joked that it was good for me to fidget in a chocolate is from a plant and is therefore a salad type of way. However, the article stated that fidgeting, by its very nature, causes you to burn more calories throughout your day. I was thrilled to read of the various studies conducted on the matter because this was finally a legit trump card!
Naturally, I had to take this newfound ammunition to my Mother. Hopped in my car, set my cruise, turned on my tunes (to which I merrily tapped my little feet), rolled down the window, placed my arm into the wind, tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, and made my way to her house. I wheeled in all excitedly, parked, jumped out of my car, raced up the steps, and whipped out my new trump card. Did it help my cause? No. No, it did not. She looked me dead in my eyeballs and told me that fidgeting was something ladies simply didn't do and that she didn't care what the Mayo Clinic studies indicated.
So, I learned that fidgeting is good for me, my Mama will always carry the one, and I have excellent taste in fidget-worthy music!
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
My name is Sarah Leigh and I have a problem. I fall in love with secondary characters. I love the main characters, too, of course, but I have their story before me. I often get derailed by a burning need to know the story of the secondary characters and it is all Elizabeth Boyle's fault. She breathes life and shenanigans into characters who most writers present as staid props. And before Mrs. Boyle, I was never a fan of romance. It was just too sketchy for my tastes, but leave it to her to make snobby me break down and embrace stories outside of my normal genres. Again, I place the burden of blame at her feet. She writes series and if you know me any at all, you know that I absolutely detest waiting for a new book in a series. I'm twisted, I know, but I want all books available so I can read without pause, but on the same token, I am loathe to allow a series to end for fear of the characters living life without telling me the rest of their story. At the risk of confirmation from the lady herself, I must confess to all but harassing her about new books and beloved characters. Because I love the secondary characters and I'm dying to read their adventure. For example, I've just read Mad About the Major (late, I know, but I'm lucky that I remember to don matching socks and/or shoes) and I loved it. Perhaps not one of my favorites, but it was cute and fleshed out just so. I enjoyed the simplicity of feelings between the two. The twist was no twist at all, but that made it charming. Being right about it somehow just made it seem so very right and fateful. 😉 Quite a lovely story, but now I'm a simmering pot of desire to read about Tuck and the last Tempest sister. All those excerpts drag me in. I liked ol' Tuck in Louisa's story and I found Lavinia to be of a romantic nature. Dancing and floundering in a puddle of ladies at Almack's after Alaster released his hold on her... I just need to know!!!!