Sunday, October 26, 2014

Liam Neeson is Angry & so am I!

There's something magical about meandering through a book store, letting your fingers trail softly over the spines of new books.  I'm that person.  I will touch the books just for the sake of touching 'em.  Eve and I recently ventured into BAM to purchase some books for our impending trip to YALLFest in Charleston, SC.  (If you're interested, here's the link.  YALLFest! )  This will mark my first book event and I am beyond excited!  This isn't my normal genre, but Eve has been so very patiently exposing me to new series and new authors that I would be remiss not to explore it!  Digress, I do.  We stalked the aisles, snagging books which snagged our attention.  I am so incredibly backlogged in my reading.  Books keep piling up.  Part of my issue is that time gets the best of me.  I seemingly always have something to do or something to which I must attend.  Also, I have an awful habit of reading more than one book at a time and my brain is one of those silly brains which already goes in too many various directions all at once.  The worst part, though, is when I get mad or annoyed and I strike against a character.  And believe you me, I do!  When I read, I get invested!  My emotions get tied up and twisted!  I've been known to cry, fuss, rant, smile, giggle, fall in love, talk trash, and even toss a book.  And as awful as it sounds, once I'm mad with a character, I pretty much write 'em off.  It's rare that I seek and find redemption.

So, have you ever been mad with a character?  Did you finish the book? 

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

A Mad Dash Down Memory Lane!

As a young lass, I constantly read!  I read almost anything I could get my grubby little paws on.  My favorites?  Reader's Digest!  Four in one, man!  It was like my birthday, Christmas, and just because all wrapped in one deliciously bound volume.  My parents, God bless 'em, grew tired of me reading manuals and they set me up with a subscription to RD.  I'd race to the mailbox, my little girl's heart beating with hope.  When my book arrived, I'd nearly float home, so buoyed by the delight of four new stories.  I didn't always make it to the house.  Sometimes, the nearest tree was the best I could do.  Engrossed, the story would steal away my day, but I never entertained the idea that my day had been wasted.  I was always on an adventure!  I rode horses, I danced ever so prettily at the ball, I learned how to crank a Model T, I battled evil swordsmen, and so much more.  I travelled the world while sitting with my back pressed against the solid strength of my "reading" trees.  I would spend hours completely immersed in these written worlds.  It was a source of frustration to anyone who tried to gain my attention.  I wasn't ignoring them.  I just couldn't hear my name over the voices of the characters. 

I'm older now and I still love to read.  I'm still going places without leaving.  My taste has changed a bit, broadened if you will, as I've aged.  I've recently stumbled into the world of romance novels thanks to the wonderful Elizabeth Boyle (If you haven't read any of her books, remedy that with a quickness; she's awesome!).  However, I catch my mind darting down memory lane, trying to recollect some of the stories I read during those long ago days.  I cannot tell you how often I have poured over Google and all but harassed my local librarians in an attempt to find a book from my childhood.  It always comes in little snippets, just enough to tease me without mercy, but not enough to have a solid lead.  Until tonight.  It all started with the word "estate" and it jostled around in my brain until I broke my computer out of hibernation and started stalking the seven seas of the world wide web.  I knew there was an estate to which a young girl came to visit.  It wasn't her family, but she became an honorary member, so to speak, as the family embraced her.  I couldn't remember a single character's name or the name of the estate, but through meticulous research, I had a hit which lead me to my prize.  Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher!  I was all of eleven when I read it, but to this day, I remember being so invested in the characters that I cried, I balked, and I angrily denied anything which didn't happen the way I wanted it to and rejoiced when goodness slipped through the pages and kissed my characters!  I'm nearly thirty-one, so we're talking a few months shy of two entire decades.  You have to love a character that can draw you back in after that many years!

Surely I'm not the only one...