On Sunday, I enjoyed a few hours curled up in my bedroom, with breakfast, some movies, and burrowing my nose in a book by a favorite author.
This book had been on my stacks for awhile...I actually couldn't believe how long. Yes, the book is rather long, but reading it doesn't feel like a chore. It is more of a journey with some intriguing characters in lovely settings, like the English countryside, London, etc.
Almost a Crime, by Penny Vincenzi, is turning out to be one of those reads that I savor. Do you have books you love to linger with, enjoying the descriptions, the dialogue, and the anticipation of what might come next?
Today I excerpted from it for Teaser Tuesdays.
After visiting blogs and adding MORE books to my staggering TBR stacks, I worked for awhile on one of my WIPs, rereading and tweaking some passages. Editing is a tedious process, but I am pleasantly surprised that there are enjoyable parts to the exercise. I am loving these characters I created, and even when I notice something that needs to change, it doesn't feel like a negative experience. It feels as though I'm learning as I go along in the process.
Here's a section from Defining Moments, in which we see the MC, Jillian McAvoy, a retired English teacher turned writer slowly lose herself in her work and on the Internet. She is suddenly realizing how out of touch she is with the ordinary world:
I worked for a couple of hours before finally turning away from the computer.A cautionary tale, perhaps, that I had once thought of calling Lost in the Blogosphere.... Does it strike a chord with anyone?
Stretching a bit and moving slowly toward the living room, I glanced around and suddenly felt appalled by the condition of my house. When was the last time I’d even bothered to straighten up? I blushed, as I recalled that Ernestine had just been here and undoubtedly noticed the state of affairs. I knew that I had stopped paying attention to my own clutter because of the pull of work, but that was no excuse.
First I collected all the stray clothes that dotted the surfaces, tossing them finally into the laundry room. Then I studied the books and magazines that littered the tables and even the sofa. Once I collected them and returned each item to its rightful place, I felt better. Maybe it had been Ernestine mentioning David that had me so tuned in to my environment finally, but whatever the reason, I had to be more alert. Who knew when someone might suddenly appear? Megan might even decide to drop in, although that seemed unlikely since she lived in San Francisco. Then I thought about my bedroom. Lately, I hadn’t even bothered making the bed.
For years, that had been the first thing I’d done each morning, even before coffee or computer time. Maybe because I would be going out the door to work. Old habits seemed like an intrusion into my new work.
So now I entered my bedroom reluctantly and studied the colossal mess. Covers tossed and dragging on the floor; sheets looking definitely worse for wear; and on the adjacent bathroom floor, I saw wet towels! Feeling myself blushing again, I quickly straightened up the area, and then changed the sheets.
Afterwards, I felt a little better. I even straightened the books on my nightstand and put the movies back on the shelf.
When I finally returned downstairs, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since my lunch with Sheila and Marianne, and glancing at the clock, noticed, even before I observed that it was dusk outside, that the clock read six-thirty. Where had the time gone?
Peering into the fridge, I tried to remember when I’d last gone to the market. There were some take-out containers, one yogurt, a rather shriveled apple, and when I grabbed the milk, a rancid smell almost knocked me over. I picked up the yogurt, reached for a spoon, and began eating eagerly. Then I grabbed a memo from the magnetic pad on the fridge and began making a list. I really must be more in tune with the real world!
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