Whether we belong to a tribe comprised of harried moms, college students, or even librarians, we recognize our "kindred spirits" by dress, behavior, and other things we have in common.
But have you ever wondered about secret societies? Ones where members recognize each other by a secret handshake or door knock or even a cryptic eyebrow quirk. Maybe secret societies possess ancient wisdom that they will share with the world when the time is right.
Boynton, Oklahoma: 1917. A stranger comes to town. A nondescript, little man in a bowler hat. Says his name is Nick. Old Nick. He seems drawn to the flaring tempers and anti-foreigner rants that are bubbling up as the United States enters WWI. He can smell the murderous rages and incendiary fear wafting off some of the citizens. For the scared and the angry, he might sidle up behind them and whisper in their ears, "Tell me. Tell me what you want." And then, somehow, their ugly thoughts . . . become reality.
The other day, I picked up a book off the new book display—drawn by the colorful cover and by the title. Mobile Library, by David Whitehouse, has a happy-looking cover, but it is anything but a happy book.
I’ve never really liked horses. The way they side-step with those ginormous, clippy-cloppy hooves, bare those big, big teeth, and roll those huge eyes until the whites show all the way around? Very scary! Yes, they are beautiful, and yes, their shiny coats are like stroking silk. But still. Horses. <shudder>
My fear of horses probably is the reason that I never really wanted to read Westerns. But I quite often looked at Westerns. So many great covers! So many sub-genres! I read Doc, by Mary Doria Russell. And then Epitaph, the sequel. I wanted more, more, more!
I still don’t really like horses, but I have discovered that I really like Westerns! Check out some favorites in my Most-Wanted list.
I only clean my house to loud rock and roll music because a) I know my neighbors love it and b) doesn’t everyone?
In honor of American Craft Beer Week (May 11-18), raise a pint at one our area’s local breweries, enjoy a draft in your favorite pub or tavern, or just pick up a six-pack to take home. Beer and pizza, beer and good times with friends, beer and backyard barbeques—there are virtually no wrong ways to enjoy a brew. Just don’t overdo it! Be sure to imbibe responsibly.
BOSS: Hey, can you create a booklist to highlight downtown Fredericksburg, maybe for Restaurant Week?
ME: <out loud> Sure, that would be FUN! <to myself> Are you kidding? What kind of booklist could I do for that? What’s my hook? There is no hook. Nooooooo. I’m doomed! Doomed! I’m gonna need a snack to figure this out. There are no snacks here. What snacks do I have at home? Wait. Wait. I’m getting an idea….
They say that with age comes wisdom. I’m not so sure—most middle-aged ladies I know (myself included!) seem to not be able to remember anything! Maybe the phrase means the wisdom to say “now, honey, you’re gonna hafta remind me of this conversation, because I surely will forget everything momentarily!”
Now that I have become, ahem, une femme d’un certain âge, I find that I am drawn to mysteries with little old lady sleuths.