Finished a spectacular tween mystery yesterday - “The Dead Man in Indian Creek.” It was surely written in the 1980s (or at least before DVDs were invented, reading between the lines). It was stressful but charming. I won’t spoil it, but there’s a Scooby-doo-esque dog that helps solve a mystery. And cocaine. Lots of it.
I can’t decide what to read next. One of my favorite BookTubers admitted she reads multiple books at the same time. I don’t know why I have always been wary to do that, but I have started now.
My “longer term” book is the compulsively readable “Magnolia Palace“ (I’ll write more about that another time.) I got that through the Book of the Month Club I joined. I’m very, very charmed by the book of the month club. This was a club I did not NEED to join considering my 1,725 unread titles in my Kindle library (half joke). I joined it to expand my horizons, open myself up to new genres, etc. I’m still reading this book, but want to balance it out with a teen mystery. I’m a sucker for those. My Pretty Little Lifestyle, if you will (all time favorite series, but could never get into the show.)
I don’t want to participate in anything that doesn’t involve books or writing. These are the only voluntary parts of my existence. I‘m far more interesting in writing than in person. I’m more myself here than anywhere else. I want to just hand out little typed out speeches to people instead of introducing myself... Ugh, the world. The people in it.
I do love all of this somehow. Maybe not in a healthy way. Maybe the love goes a bit sideways. Just trying to find new little ways to BE charmed every day. To hell with BEING the charming one. I’m an unapologetic old swamp thing at my core.
Time for more books. Xoxoxoxoxox
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