Not going to lie, July has been kind of rough. Health wise at least. The heat and humidity are not helping anything. And it has been hot. If it's not hot it's storming. The deep south in summer is, as I've always described it, Hell's Sauna. So that's about it as far as updates are concerned.
It's hot. It's miserable. I don't get around well in the heat. Rinse repeat for eight months of the year.
But other than that Mrs. Lincoln...
Meh. It's been meh.
I'm just waiting for fall and spooky season. And thinking about writing a Christmas story. But all of my Christmas stories end up spooky. Because, I believe, as the Victorians did, that Christmas is the spookiest of seasons. Take A Christmas Carol for instance. Ever wonder why the most famous enduring Christmas story of all time is a ghost story? Because the Victorians and times before treated the Christmas season as we, here in the USA, treat modern Halloween. It was the time to gather, feast, stay warm, and tell ghost stories. To me, that's the entire last quarter of the year. Or, rather, all the BER months.
It doesn't get cold in the BER months where I live. At best the humidity goes away and the leaves get crispy. At worst we sweat until January. Autumn is a concept here. Or, upon occasion, Fall is our coldest months of the year and we have spring as early as January.
It is what it is. I'd love to travel north and see actual fall foliage and feel the crispy weather just once. Best I can do is experience that on TV. Sighs... dreamily.
I'm ready for Summer to be done and we can pretend it's cooler and not just brown. I'm ready for a change of decor. Stuff.
Just stuff.
I can't do Hallmark Christmas story telling no matter how much I'd like to. Everything from September to Epiphany will be spooky if you leave it to me.
Have you noticed that I only have a couple of books set in the summer?
I thought I was an equal seasonal writer. Turns out, I am not. I am anti-summer in my writing. And did you notice that I have more books set in winter with snow than a person who's rarely ever seen snow should?
I know... it's weird. I don't get it.
Why just this past January, one week before my 56th birthday I got to experience my first major snow storm right along with my youngest two children (29 and 18). I came away with two things from that. Snow is gorgeous. Snow is absolutely stunningly beautiful... and I would not like to live in that months on end. Nope. I can't handle extreme cold. I don't want to clean that up daily. I would never be able to drive in winter if I had to drive in that. Nope. Can't do it. But it was lovely. I'd like to do it again. Maybe same time next year. Just for one day. We can set a date. Rent a sled or something. Dunno.
Anyway...
Writing updates... or lack there-of.
I'm playing with ideas. Nothing is sticking. I don't know what else to say. Too many years of not writing and maybe the ability goes away. I know that what I have written is stilted and clunky and just does not flow like it used too. I've forgotten how to craft my craft. That old saying, use it or lose it... guess I lost it.
I think it has more to do with lack of enthusiasm for the genres in which I've written. And having no idea which genre to branch into.
I currently have a 90 day free subscription to KU (the only way I'm going to have KU, not giving the zon a penny but I will at least scan to give authors the pennies (( because that's all authors get in KU)).) Looking for something good to read. I tried one of my old favorite women's fiction authors whose older works are available in KU, and honestly, I think she hates women the way she tortures them.
Why is that? Why are all the women in women's fiction so badly treated? I don't get that. Do the women writers love torturing their heroines? And why are they always stupid? Like big business woman does well, but something happens, and she's left destitute and on the run from some stupid man (usually) when if she'd been as smart as she's made out to be, she'd have taken stupid man for at least her rightful share of whatever he is kicking her out of... marriage, business, whatever, both. Why do they always run with the clothes on their backs, to some small town refuge, and beg and plead for slave wages until they get back on their feet... usually from some dude who will eventually defend them from the big bad man in the beginning... I hate that. And why do those writers have big contracts for tons of books with the exact same plot? over and over and over.
UGH! or the heroine is too fucking stupid to live and just bunny hops around getting her way because her tits and lack of brain are somehow the only plot needed...
BANGS HEAD ON TABLE! FLINGS E-READER THROUGH WALL!
Or, the mass produced, badly written, plot resistant TikTok books... but we won't discuss that because I can't get through the freeviews of those to talk clearly about them. Just... what's it's called when women hate women? Misandry? Misogyny? We won't discuss the violence women write against themselves... because I don't have the spoons today, or ever.
Just... UGH!
I need a story to reach out of the book and grab me by the throat and haul me in. I haven't found one of those in years. If I can find books I want to read... hell, maybe I can find stories I want to tell again.
I don't know. I just miss falling into a different world and escaping in the prose and plot. Call me old-fashioned.
Anyway... I guess that's all for today. I'm bored and looking for something to whine about. Same thing I do every day Pinky!
You can read ten of my books free in Kindle Unlimited, the rest you can read free in Kobo Plus. Or just page through if you don't want to do the reading. That would be appreciated too.
Have a happy middle of July. Will talk again when the whim strikes.
Peace,
Mercy
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