Skip to main content

Things With Which I Am Currently, Shamelessly Obsessed

1) Strid by the Oslo Kammerkor.  It's choral music.  In Norwegian.  That combines folk songs with liturgical music. And it is so much awesome I can't even handle it.

I realize I'm nutterbutters for my love of choral music, but if you're even a little curious, give it a listen and be inspired.  And wish you could speak Norwegian.  This one is admittedly on the odder side, with a traditional shepherding call leading it out:



2) Vintage Travel Posters.  I love film posters, but they're so intimidating.  How do you choose a film poster for, say, a guest room? That's appealing and unique but not pushy in your taste palette?  Enter travel posters, which just feel so much less commital.  They don't declare "I LOVE 1950s scifi schtick starring John Agar, like The Mole People!" the way my living room does.

3) John Agar.  Journey to the Seventh Planet.  Revenge of the Creature from the Black Lagoon.  I'm only half-kidding in my love of Agar, and the rest being actual, pure, unadulterated enjoyment of wacky sci-fi and the actors who made it possible.

4) This Flourless Chocolate Cake.  With--wait for it--This Blackberry Balsamic Sauce.  I'm, um, just practicing for Valentine's Day.

5) Being jealous of the Northeast for getting The Snow. I want The Snow.  We just have piddly leftover snow and it's...sad.

All right--exciting, embarrassing, or otherwise noteworthy obsessions of late! Go!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In Which I Finally Get to Say: Orbit is Publishing My Book!

I realize I’ve been a little quiet around here recently.  Moms of toddlers will tell you that it’s when things get quiet in their houses that they know *something* is happening.  With toddlers, silent happenings are usually not a good thing.  In writing? They can be a really awesome thing.
Long story short (when does that ever happen writing novels?): I’m incredibly excited to announce that Orbit will be publishing my novel Torn in spring of 2018—and even more exciting, we’ll be publishing a trilogy! The story follows a seamstress who can embed good luck charms into her creations--and becomes entangled in a revolution.
Obligatory Publisher's Marketplace screenshot--because this little blurb means this is super-duper, 100%, don't bother pinching me official!


Long story less short: Want to have the most exciting day of your career and then sit on the news for months? Then writing and publishing books is for you!  This has been in the works for a while, and though I’ve known for…

In Which the Writer Fills Out a Form

I've been writing for years.  Even if I only count the years of "this is getting sorta serious, aiming for publication," it's been a long time.  In that time--about a decade--I never identified myself publicly as a writer.

I thought of myself that way--if I had to pick a few words that make up my personal self-portrait, "writer" would be one of them.  But I didn't introduce myself that way to other people, or talk about it on Facebook or in those polite small-talk conversations at parties. Some close friends knew that I wrote steadily; a few knew where I was in the long, circling road to publication.  I suppose, if you cornered me, I didn't feel like I'd earned that moniker--I hadn't sold a book, I couldn't claim it as a profession, I wasn't "really" a writer in a way that the world at large would understand.

Which is fine--this isn't one of those empowering posts about owning who you are and claiming the name "Wri…

Still Smells Like Pine Needles Around Here...

So there's this scene in It's a Wonderful Life where Jimmy Stewart's George Bailey walks into his future wife Mary Hatch's house, awkwardly shambles through the foyer, nervously handles his hat, and remarks "I see it still smells like pine needles around here."

And this is what I'm feeling right about now.  See, George Bailey is *supposed* to be with Mary.  We just know it.  We know he has a purpose and that something bigger than him has vision that he can't even see.  But he's fought against it and tried a dozen other things and so when he's finally where he's supposed to be...well, I guess it still smells like pine needles or whatever.


Because if I'm George Bailey, writing is my Mary Hatch and it's been a long time since I've visited her.  I've been noncommittal and crappy to her.  Her mom is very justified in wondering why she doesn't just ditch me for Sam Wainwright.

I'm not fighting against anything, but I am …