Paper Girls

First: I didn't read the description of Paper Girls before I started reading. As a steady fan of Saga and others like it, I just trusted Brian K. Vaughan and Image Comics to intrigue me.
The result?
They did.

I don't know what I expected -- a realistic drama about paper delivery girls on some adventure. For some reason, I wasn't expecting science fiction, some creep-tastic moments, violence, and a fight for survival. And while all of those things are kind of minimal, they're handled with a realism and emotional gravity that each situation deserves.

I loved it.

I was able to get a digital galley of the book just before release, and while I waffled at first, the colors on that cover just nagged at me every time I saw it, and I finally sat still long enough to read it. After the first few pages I was drawn in and blazed through it.

I'll edit this post more later when I have more time, but for now I'll just say: read this! If this is an ongoing series, I look forward to what they do next.

Read Life/Real Life

So let's talk about books.

Obviously, I like books.

I like F.L. Block books. They move me and inspire me and make me want to be and be more.

And there are so many fantasy books I love, too.

The Kushiel's Legacy series by Jacqueline Carey. So much adventure and strength and passion and love. The Sevenwaters books by Juliet Marillier. Softer, but still epic and tragic and romantic and beautiful.

I have a fascination with Stephen King books and I recently fell in love with Horns, by King's son, Joe Hill, which I will absolutely write about later on, not to mention his first amazing book, Heart-Shaped Box (which is awesomely creepy), and N0S4A2; also brilliant.

f.scott.fitzgerald.

I am aware, very much, that my obsession with fiction has led to a fairly skewed outlook on life.

Because I crave heart-aching romance and epic adventure and excitement, I'm particularly dulled to [what feels like] the lack-luster truths of reality.

Love is simple and can feel dull after long periods of time.

Pleasurable sex (for me) is rarely ever slow and "romantic."

Friends don't just float into your life then stick around without a lot of work.

Normal, everyday life doesn't feel magical.

At least

not when compared to books.

and I think this is where my version of the Mean Reds comes in.

My depression, which doesn't creep up on me slowly but pounces, throwing a shade over my eyes and a net around my thoughts before I even realize it's coming.

Even the beautiful sunsets and sunrises and skylines just don't... matter

when that shade comes down.

Then the dullness of my

relationship

work

friends

life

drains me.

Even things I don't think are dull or bad at all, all sink into this pit of the Mean Reds.

I get angry and scared and miserable and desperate.

I get lonely.

It should make me want to run, but it actually freezes me. I curl up and become stagnant and bitter because of it. Because of my lust for a fantasy life I resent my real one. It hurts.

But still we read, right? Still we comb through bookshelves and review blogs and other people's recommendations. Still we search for something new to read, or something good enough to read again.

I've spent long chunks of my life trying to pull myself out of my real-life-induced bitterness, reminding myself that there is no main character in the real world, everyone exists in the same way and no-one is excitedly diving into our adventure (or lack thereof) and that's a really strange thing to do. It's something like the reverse of convincing yourself you're not crazy. Instead, I convince myself that I am crazy-- that I need to let my romanticized expectations go and appreciate what I have.

That's what all the stupid aphorisms say, right? It's not so much... "life is always greener" as... "you will never have grass as green because there's no such thing as that green..."

It's... really depressing just thinking about now...

But how do we fix that?

How do we, as artists, creatives, travelers, and -- most importantly -- readers deal with -- truly deal with -- the world we took to the pages to escape? We all get thrown back into it, after all; that's what growing up is; so how do we consolidate the adventure, passion, and excitement of our fictional retreats into the adult world we have no choice but to navigate?

I'm on a journey to find fiction that doesn't circumvent my enjoyment and understanding of my life but encourages it -- facilitates it.

I want fiction that brings life up and says -- it's okay to be simple! it's okay to be plain! the real world can be interesting to and you aren't missing out!

you don't have to be the main character in the world's story to have your own! Live your boring little life and enjoy and explore and love your life.

A Little Light Reading

Okay, so, crazy change of subject: me!

Just kidding. I write about me all the time.

But I want to do a little "plug" for my new writing endeavors on JukePop.com

JukePop is a really interesting site made for readers and indie writers to connect and develop working relationships via serialized updates of the writer's work.
So, a writer begins their novel on the site, posting one chapter at a time, and updates periodically  -- often or sporadically -- so that readers can follow them, read each serialized chapter, and offer opinions, praise, critiques, questions, etc. Readers can also donate to the writer, as well as encourage and promote their favorite stories.

I love the concept, and I really hope the site grows and gains more dedicated readers and followers.

the generic Romance cover

So I've uploaded the beginnings of two of my works-in-progress.
My poetry baby, inspired by the works of YA authors like (of course) Francesca Lia Block, Ellen Hopkins, etc. -- Poison In Her Blood (which is the newest working title)

Three tales of poison, reinvented.

Sephony can't watch the man she loves with another woman, and runs, losing herself in an underground club with bodies that writhe like souls, and an owner like shards of ice, with a ruby-red addiction.

Winter has a mother she adores, but who envies her youth and beauty. After spending her life trying to make her mother proud, Winter falls in love with a dazzling young girl, and want's to impress her, instead. But her mother will do anything to keep Winter quiet, and still, and all to herself.

Evie stands under the tallest tree in the woods, considering the dangerous offer that was whispered in her ear, and whether she can live with the consequences of her choice.

My writing obsession of the year, The Life We Didn't Live. A fantasy-woven romance inspired by the craziest dream that I could just never forget.

"Your time-line is wrong..."

Iris McEwan has dreams about a man she can't see. She feels sorrow she can't explain. She clings to the only thing in her life she feels sure about; her daughter, Ella.

But when a stranger at a carnival makes her suspect something unsettling -- and impossible -- about her life, she begins a trip through memories of her past, and a past she doesn't remember having.

So, if you have a moment and are looking for something to read, try these two fantasy reads. 

I got a comment on TLWDL really quickly, which boosted my hopes for it's success on the site, but I haven't gotten any since. I'd really like to see some more reactions before I post more chapters.

Please check it out!

Nothing So Difficult