I don’t know about your 2018, but mine could have been better. Could have been worse, of course, but in general, it was a tense slog. And now we’re down to the last two days, and I’m thinking, “Bring on 2019.”
I do realize that things are not going to miraculously turn around on Tuesday, but there is something about putting up a new calendar (that’s a pretty blatant turning point). I am not making resolutions–screw resolutions–but I am thinking about fresh starts, looking at the things that are constant in my life and thinking about them in new ways. The fact that they’re constants doesn’t mean they never change, it just means that they’re part of me, and I shouldn’t take any of them for grated.
So here’s looking at the things we love and do and need with fresh eyes in a fresh new year. In fact, here’s to the new year, may it be not quite so interesting and filled with a lot more joy.
Since this is the last Good Book Thursday of 2018, how about posting The Best Book You Read All Year? I mean to go back through the comments on the Thursday posts to get a reading list for 2019–Murderbot is obviously one of them–but let’s go with your top read, just to simple things up. If somebody else has already mentioned your book, go ahead and post it again; the more times a title is posted, the likelier it is we’ll give it a shot. And then you can talk about what else you read this week or whatever else you want to.
I know for a lot of people the solstice holiday is over or upcoming, but since Santa knows no religion (and is not necessarily white, Megyn), I wish you all a wonderful celebration-of-your-choice. With presents.
Happiness is being with your family on the holidays if you love them and can relax with them and they make you feel warm and loved in return. Fot others, happiness is not being with family and feeling warm and safe at home. And there are those (I suspect the majority) who split the difference. I truly hope whatever holiday of yours came or is coming your way this year, it was a happy one. And if it wasn’t, hang in there, it’s almost over. Only eight more days until a brand new year.
Usually I’m all in on baked goods, but this one is fraught. For starters, dates are too sweet for me. And then there’s the bad flashbacks to the Christmases of my youth when the stuff was everywhere along with an egg nog I wasn’t allowed to have that had some guy’s name on it, a name I am now unable to recall. My German family was full of heavy drinkers who didn’t like each other, so our dinners seethed with starch and repressed anger, and then there was date nut bread for dessert. Although there was also pumpkin pie and I still like pumpkin pie, and I love nut bread in general, so maybe it’s just the dates after all.
Several people mentioned having a hard time connecting to Nita, aka an unlikable heroine. So I watched a recommended romcom last night, thinking that maybe I just had to get back to my romance roots to remember how to write a protagonist people wanted to read about. I picked one that wasn’t about a successful business woman leaving the city to find love in a small town with a moppet adjacent because, dear god, there’s a limit to that plot, plus I’ve lived in small towns all my life and they are not Mayberry or Stars Hollow, they are Amityville.
Sorry, I digress.
The one I watched had an interesting premise and came recommended (either the AV Club or Jezebel, can’t remember which), but it was godawful, mostly because the heroine was so vile I wanted her to die alone. So then I went back to a June 2018 romcom that I had liked, also about an ambitious woman in the city who did not have an adjacent moppet, to see what made me root for her, all in hopes that I would see a way to making Nita a heroine readers wanted to spend time with. (Spoilers for two romcoms ahead.)
This week I’ve mostly been reading the news which, if you’re an American, is like an advent calendar: Every day we open a door and get a new investigation for our President. We’re up to seventeen now. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. I also re-read a lot of Heyer for comfort, but that involved skimming. I love her romances, but she does tend to over-explain and in some cases spend too much time with characters I don’t care about. Which I believe was also some of the feedback I got on Act One, so I’m in glass houses territory now and I’ll shut up.
The clicky part of my trackpad went out and my entire life passed before my eyes along with the entire book I have to finish by Jan. 4. I found an old mouse until I can get this fixed and ordered a new laptop so that in the future there will always be a back-up machine because the thought of not being able to get to my work was horrifying. I’m also almost finished with part one of the History of Trees shawl, which means the easy part is over and now I’m going to have to start looking at charts and counting stitches. Of course, the boring part is over, too, but sometimes boring is good. In crochet. Not in books or life, although I did not need the excitement of a non-clickable trackpad. My god. It was the like my own private apocalypse.