Today

Aloha Blog Ohana!!

In the midst of impeachment and daily revelations of just how corrupt this administration is, my brother was indignant that anyone would think there was a good reason not to support the Orange Menace. "Even with everything he's been doing?" I asked in disbelief.

"What has he done?" my bro countered. "He's been the most abused president in history. He came into office with everybody against him."

So there you have it folks: the man who bragged about grabbing pussies, cheating on every wife, who has been accused of rape, partying with Jeffrey Epstein and is apparently running a money laundering business from the Oval Office is deeply misunderstood and under supported.

Poor, poor little orange man.

Anyway...Mollie is coming home for Christmas!! So fucking happy about this, I can't contain my joy.I now get to start buying gifts for her and planning some fun.

This is a very happy Mama here.

I'm moved into my bigger bedroom and it is so much bigger. I love it. I especially love having a closet where I can arrange my clothes and see them.

I've discovered CBD. It's basically hemp and can be used as a salve, in supplements, oil and various things. I freaking love the salve. A little on my knees in the morning and I swear to all that is holy, my knee pain disappears. It's a Thanksgiving miracle. (No exaggeration, this stuff is really that amazing. I'm also taking a supplement but I'm not sure if it's doing anything besides making me yawn uncontrollably for about an hour and a half every day.)

I bought purple and lavender paint today so shelves and hardware will be painted this weekend. Once I get shelves on the wall (as well as art) then my room will be complete. So excited!!

I'm reading more Talia Hibbert books. I like her voice and I like her characters. I finally got some books I ordered like forever ago (self-help by Brene Brown and feminism literature by Roxane Gay and another author whose name I can't think of right now... ) so I'll be reading those next.

Anyway, I'm currently a very happy camper. Stress at work but it's manageable and felt by everyone, family is all currently healthy and I can momentarily breathe about finances.

So how are all of you out there doing? Chime in. I really want to know what's going on.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

Carolyn: 

Have a blurb! 

Chloe Brown is a chronically ill computer geek with a goal, a plan, and a list. After almost—but not quite—dying, she’s come up with seven directives to help her “Get a Life”, and she’s already completed the first: finally moving out of her glamorous family’s mansion. The next items?

• Enjoy a drunken night out.
• Ride a motorcycle.
• Go camping.
• Have meaningless but thoroughly enjoyable sex.
• Travel the world with nothing but hand luggage.
• And... do something bad.

But it’s not easy being bad, even when you’ve written step-by-step guidelines on how to do it correctly. What Chloe needs is a teacher, and she knows just the man for the job.

Redford ‘Red’ Morgan is a handyman with tattoos, a motorcycle, and more sex appeal than ten-thousand Hollywood heartthrobs. He’s also an artist who paints at night and hides his work in the light of day, which Chloe knows because she spies on him occasionally. Just the teeniest, tiniest bit.

But when she enlists Red in her mission to rebel, she learns things about him that no spy session could teach her. Like why he clearly resents Chloe’s wealthy background. And why he never shows his art to anyone. And what really lies beneath his rough exterior…

I don't particularly care for cartoon covers, but have one anyway.

Well, the heroine covers a lot of ground: she's plus sized; she's Black; she has a chronic disease, fibromyalgia; and all of this has given her certain ways to cope, ways that alienate her from her peers.But, ya know, I'm sorta hero-centric and I gotta tell you this hero met all my needs even if the description of his hair did remind me of my son (please don't judge).

Lori:

This was an excellent book. I've had a hard time with romance lately because it's too much insta-lust or H/h's with problems that could be solved easily with a little honesty.

Chloe's issue isn't small. She's in chronic pain and there's no easy cure. Quite the opposite and the kind of pain she's in makes it hard for her to sustain a friendship, much less a romantic relationship.

Red, a wonderful hero, also has his issue. He was in an abusive relationship (emotionally and physically) with a woman which has left him scared and scarred. His attraction to Chloe is fraught with his inability to see her as she is instead of as his ex was.

There's a lot to unpack but from my reading I just loved how well Chloe's medical condition was central to everything. I've been fighting a lot of pain myself recently and sometimes I find that I make choices not to do certain things, not to partake in pleasures because I'm afraid of how I'll physically feel afterward.

I felt for Chloe. I was so tied into her story and felt so much how easy it is to disappear into the sofa with the mess around her, having so much to do and so little ability to do it. 

And when Red came into Chloe's life, when he really came into her life, he never judged her for her difficulties. Red tried to make things doable. He tried to keep her pain in mind. And he lusted for her with so much passion, the pages almost burned with it.

To tell you how much I liked this book: I read the sex scenes.

Carolyn: 

LMAO! 

I've been blessed to be without a whole lot of physical pain in my life, but the way Chloe dealt with hers sounded logical and totally realistic. It was also realistic how Red slowly - emphasis on slowly - drew her out of her shell and made her life more joyful. It made me joyful too.

But most of all, it was the writing that spoke to me. Unfortunately it didn't occur to me to highlight notes until later in the book but here are a few examples.

* Old people always had hankies. They hid them on their bodies like ninjas with throwing stars.

* Tiny drips of rain spattered the lenses of her glasses, beaded on the flyaways frizzing from her hair, slicked her skin until she gleamed under the streetlights like a jewel.

* ...wearing a suit so sharp, it should be kept away from infants and waterbeds.

* ...it would be murder on her lower back. She sternly informed her nipples of these pertinent facts, but they gestured rudely at her and continued to tingle like a pair of slutty batteries.

I wish, oh I wish!

Lori, this writer has never really disappointed me. Her heroines are interesting, and while some might call them 'well off the beaten track', I say they're true to life; this author casts her nets wide and her characters are never cookie cutter people.

I think you'd also like the first book of hers that I read, "A Girl Like Her". Worth a try anyway, yes?

Lori:

This was my first book written by Talia Hibbert but it certainly isn't going to be my last. Thank you so much Carolyn, for pushing me to read this. 

It's hard to find a book that connects on every level but this one really did. I felt like Red did when meeting Chloe but the more I got to know her the more I wanted to know her. 

This was a delight from first page to last. Highly recommend.

Revenge Is A Dish ... Best Served by Victoria Helen Stone

I'm going to talk about three books in this post. All are books about women and revenge. One is brilliant. One is okay. And one is utter garbage.

Jane Doe by Victoria Helen Stone.

The Third Mrs. Durst by Ann Aguirre.

And One Last Thing by Molly Harper.

If you know me at all, you know I love a strong heroine. And a heroine who has been done wrong and takes revenge is 100% my cup of tea. The three books above are all that story. But where Jane Doe is the cream of the crop in revenge books, And One Last Thing misses the mark and The Third Mrs. Durst is one of the worst books I've ever read.

In Jane Doe, the heroine is a sociopath. She knows she is and she has the great good luck to understand that's okay. She isn't damaged. She is capable of creating bonds although they take a slightly different path than ordinary relationships.

And because of the break of her deepest bond, Jane is out to destroy Steve. Steve is a bastard. A manipulative, petty man who controls women through their self-esteem and does his best to hurt them. Jane's self esteem is just fine and her ability to play directly into Steve's game and outsmart him at every instance is glorious.

I loved this book more than I love a maple bar donut and I love a maple bar donut.

Hot off the success of Jane Doe came Ann  Aguirre'[s book, The Third Mrs. Durst. Here we have backwater heroine Marlene and her Donald Trumpian husband Michael, another awful man who is psychopathic and evil. The problem here is that this book was just soooooo bad that I kind of was hoping everyone would die at the end.

The heroine is a liar. And not just a liar in the sense of her manipulations in the story but as the narrator of the story she lies to the reader. Writer, a word of advice: do not write first person narration and have the narrator lie to the reader. It makes me believe that you don't know how to write and you don't respect the reader.

It's obvious in the story that Marlene's older sister was married to Michael and he killed her and now Marlene is seeking revenge. But Marlene misrepresents throughout the story and hides the fact that both her male and female lovers are in on the plan while pretending to be concerned about their well being... the truth is that I hated this book more than I hate liver and onions and oh my God, I really hate liver and onions.

I'm still angry with that book and the lying narration. I mean, I'm furious with it months later.

Which brings me to And One Last Thing by Molly Harper. Carolyn suggested the book to me and I just finished it and well, I have thoughts. It's an interesting book because nobody is really evil and the heroine isn't bad, it's just...

Lacey discovers her husband Mike is fucking his secretary. So Lacey announces it in a very amusing way to everybody who knows them both. And then she lawyers up and runs away to her Grandmother's cabin to lick her wounds.

Lacey has a love interest with a hunky neighbor which was uninteresting. And at the end of the book, Lacey and Mike are both adults and make things amicable. And that was all boring. But... along the way Lacey starts to work through her feelings about the end of her marriage by writing a horror book where she kills off the husband and does evil and well, I really wanted that book. It sounded so cool.

Otherwise, And One Last Thing was a perfectly nice, little romance novel that had the ability to be more and never stretched to achieve it. I was disappointed because it promised a hot fudge sundae but then delivered a chocolate ice cream cone.

Revenge is sweet when it's done well. Victoria Helen Stone did it better than any I've read. The others not so much.

Anyone else have anything to add?

Must Love Coffee by Sarah Mayberry

Hey Carolyn,

I saw your post earlier about romance stories and what I think of as the "meh" factor. And I totally agree. It's something we've discussed before: the preference for a story with romantic elements rather than a straight romance. It's just so damned hard to find a romance that works on all levels anymore.

That's why I want to tell you about a novella by Sarah Mayberry: Must Love Coffee. Apparently it's based on a real story but whatever... I just really liked the book all by itself. And I think you will too.

Our h/h are Daniel and Cassidy. Two career people who are hooked on coffee and have back stories. This isn't super deep. Cassidy's husband was a cheater who left her for another woman and Daniel is aching over the loss of his fur-bestie. So they're both hurting.

They also both have a wicked sense of humor. And that's the crux of the story. Because Daniel as a joke declares himself the Customer of the Week at the coffee shop that he and Cassidy both frequent. And Cassidy with a sharp sense of humor and moderate outrage is not going to sit back for that (after all, her coffee addiction is just as stunning as Daniels.)

And a war begins. A war of humor. A war of cleverness. A war between two people who need to escape their daily lives and have fun (proving they're still alive, still vital, still here).

I'm not going to go too deep into this because it's a short book and I want you to read it. It's clever and cute but more than that also. Because it isn't really angsty yet it captures an angst that was very moving. There was, for both these people, a wish to win this funny war because they were feeling diminished by their recent losses.

I'm not very into romance right now but reading this book was delightful and I was grateful for it. Give it a shot Carol. Then call me and we can wax poetic about coffee and pets we've loved. I think we'll both enjoy that conversation.

Lori

So ....

I guess it's time I lived up to our header and discussed some Romance, or at least tried to discuss it. And since I'm writing this at 3:00 a.m. my time, let's see if I can put down some ideas without sounding drunk.

I don't know if it's age (old), a different cycle of life (post, post, post menopause), or just being cantankerous, but it's difficult to find romances that catch my interest anymore. I buy books on sale that sound right up my alley as far as tropes and characters and I buy books not on sale that sound even better. The samples downloaded and then deleted without a sale are legion. And I end up rereading old favorites: anything Ilona Andrews, Patricia Briggs or Anne Bishop, anything Katie Ruggle writes. Oh, and S K Dunstall. Very little contemporary there, now that I look closely. Yet still I buy.

I find I'm tired of all the explicit sex. My vagina gave up the ghost long ago and I don't give a shit how many thrusts are involved in a sex scene. I want the warmth of character as written by the authors listed above and I don't care how much precum he can produce or how much liquid bedews her well conditioned thighs. 

I've always had difficulty distinguishing between some romances and erotica. Seems to me many books listed under romance are really erotica. And the unrest is spreading; I read hardly any historical romance  these days and since the one blog I do check out seems to be promoting gay romance that is not K J Charles, it doesn't interest me.

So now I mostly read mystery with romantic elements and I find it mostly satisfying. Don't read as much as I used to though. Now mostly I sleep (or try to, lol).

So this is a pretty choppy post, but not bad for 3 a.m., yes? I need practice.  :-)

Why I’m Fasting on This Yom Kippur

I’m best described as a secular Jew. I was born to Jewish parents and raised (till about age 15) in Temple. I was Bat Mitzvah, my mother was president of the Sisterhood and we never kept the Sabbath. Jewishness was an identity, equal to having hazel eyes and curly hair. We were Jewish because we were Jewish.

And then we really weren’t Jewish. But I was. I always was. Yet there was something missing. It wasn’t about belonging to a congregation or being Kosher. It was just… something.

So for my birthday, Carolyn bought me a book: Here All Along by Sarah Hurwitz. Sarah is a successful political speechwriter (she was Michelle Obama’s head speechwriter) and she was also a secular Jew. And now she isn’t. And reading her book is akin to having my own head sliced open and my thoughts spilling out.

I’ve always believed in my religion. Not the Messiah stuff because I don’t think some golden god being is going to show up and lead us to the Promised Land. Not to mention the Promised Land is no longer what it used to be and I do believe that this world is capable of being nirvana if people could only stop being people.

You know what I mean.

But I’m Jewish. And when the world seems to be going to Hell in a handbasket, I’m finding that more than ever my Jewish identity is screaming to be recognized.

Because we too were strangers in Egypt.

Because we too were victims of genocide.

Because we have been hated and blamed.

Because we have always been other yet always spoke up for others because that is what God told us to do.

Believing in God, in the tenets of what we were told, is believing in humanity and acting in the best interests of the world. We are told to fight for people, to protect people and to be kind to strangers. Because we were strangers also. Because we were abused also. Because we are chosen people (as are all who believe in one or less Gods) and chosen to be good people, moral people, shades-of-Barbra-Streisand people who need people, people.

The far right conservatives sneer and call the far left, SJW (social justice warriors). And I have to admit I think that’s a compliment, not an insult. I mean, would you rather be a warrior for social injustice?

So going back to Yom Kippur: when I was a kid we always went to the High Holy Days services. We fasted on Yom Kippur and sat in a stupor while the Torah was read. Again, the idea of atonement and real meaning of Yom Kippur wasn’t what we were there for. We were there because we were supposed to be. We were there because that’s what we all did.

This year I’m feeling like it’s what I’m supposed to do. To be empty from food and to remember that Yom Kippur is not just a day to atone for our sins but to atone and reflect on societal ills. It’s time to stop and ask is this world, is this country, is this community doing right in the eyes of God? Are we living like people who remember and honor those persecuted and do not want to see anyone experience that again?

When our President has given permission to Turkey to kill 2 million Kurds, I know my ancestors are screaming. I’m screaming. The world is screaming.

We have to atone. We have to figure this shit out. And we have to be better than this and make sure it doesn’t happen. We have to.

Donald Trump Doesn't Define Us

It's impossible to exist in America at this point in time without having strong feelings, one way or another, about Donald Trump. To some, like my brother, Donald Trump is the embodiment of winning. He's a below average white male who doesn't deserve, doesn't understand and doesn't care about the office he's in and he's the poster child for every inadequate white male out there who hated the past president for being the exact opposite (black, smart, deserving).

To many of us, we can only see the destruction this less-than-average man accomplishes and we only see how we as a country, as a people, are losing. Losing the gravity of the office of President, losing respect, losing our planet, losing our standing in the world.

On a personal level, I feel like Donald Trump is turning many of us into shell-shocked partners of a 

an emotionally abusive man. He's always attacking, always ready to perceive slight and erupt in vitriol and rage, leaving us shaken and afraid, hoping that the fists won't come out.

He's exhausting. If you look away for a minute then you'll miss the latest crazy, the last outrage, the newest damage to our democracy. But if you watch, if you haunt the news and social media, the constant assaults to our normality, to our lives just keep picking at your thoughts and soul. 

There is no winning with this man. Disengage and miss how he's destroying what matters (then come back and despair). Stay aware and despair because it doesn't stop. Ever. Every single motherfucking day there's something.

We're an emotionally ragged country. We can't sustain this.

And we need to learn not to. Not to look away because these are our lives, our future. But more than ever this is the time to return to art, to create, to craft, to fight the unrelenting ugliness of this man and his followers and create art. Art. We need art to keep us going.

Think for a minute about this. How many of us found that this world has sucked the joy out of us? Spend 10 minutes on Twitter and then think about crafting something and all you want to do is take a nap. 

It's so hard to create when emotionally you feel unbalanced. I quit writing after Trump became president and slowly a lot of my creativity went hot then cold then gone. (Admittedly, after Mollie went to Japan I've found it hard to create at all.)

We have to. We have to find that spot within us and nurture it back into being. Creativity is hope. It just is. It's reaching out into the void and finding celebration. Whether writing, art, baking, painting, working with Photoshop, knitting a scarf: creating always equals hope. 

And hope is what defines us as a species. Not hate. Not anger. Not Donald Trump.

I know it sounds simple but it isn't. This is a battle for peace of mind for those staying engaged. You can't live like this small man and his small sect of haters. Live larger. Embrace the world we love and refuse to lose. Hope is the thing created with brushstrokes, keyboards, flour spilled on the table. Raise yourself from the Netflix stupor and make your own short film, dance to BTS, dip your happiness in paint and reclaim yourself with a brush stroke.

Donald Trump does not define us because hope does. Reconnect with yourself, with your joy, with your soul. Create something. And remember that in doing so you're part of humanity and humanity prevails because humanity aspires.

Dream. Reach. Hope.