WyzWmn's World©

I’ve spent most of my life reading

I’ve been sick
in one manner or another
since the day I was born
so I’ve learned to while away the hours
by reading

I read all kinds of urban fantasy mostly
it contains all the best of fantasy,
romance, science fiction
historical fiction and mystery
that I need to keep me interested…

but lemme tell ya the problem
I’ve developed with that

the problem is..
that unless you have an urban fantasy reader
at your local library
who gets a voice in the kind of books they order
at said library
you spend a whole lotta time
looking for books by specific authors
and trying to convince someone to buy them
for the library

cos the other thing about urban fantasy
is that they are often written in series format
which means ya really ought to read #1
before you read # 9

capish?

the library rocks….
with all due respects to all those fantastic
writers that I enjoy reading so much
really…if I had to purchase all the books that
I read
I’d be livin on the streets…
prolly wouldn’t hurt my waistline
but I don’t like sleeping on the ground….

I also read blogs
my blog reading is responsible and responsive
to my urban fantasy tastes
in that
seems that every urban fantasy writer in the world
lives in the Pacific North West
and has their own blog

I just checked my library record…
and in 2008
I read 162 books from there…

that and kept down a full time job
that at least twice a year swells to
12 hour days for a at least
a month at a time
posted on all the freakin forums I belong to
the 3 blogs I write as often as I can
and increased I’ve my blog readin to the point
that I now use a reader to manage them

due to the weather…
I ended up with close to 3 weeks of
over the holiday season
without one freakin book to read

in the middle of January
the library
delivered 12
in the same week

seriously
all my holds came home to roost
in the same week

I need to be twins

so…what do you read?

the sound: Bad to the Bone – George Thorogood, Legs – ZZTop, Frankenstein – Edgar Winter, Stanglehold – Ted Nugent

Robert and I arrived at the almost formal “celebration of life” on his dresser, wearing jeans and t-shirts. Robert’s t-shirt read “I’d rather have a sister in a whore house than a brother on a Honda”…classy. Mine read “titties and beer, come’eer come’eer” around a negative picture of Frank Zappa.

Everyone else there was dressed in suits and funeral wear.

As if our mode of dress didn’t set us apart from everyone else…the very fact that we were both higher than kites might have set some people off. I had developed a nervous tick that involved flipping my hair around like it was some kind of scarf or flag and Robert wiggled his lower jaw back and forth, left to right like it was about to wag off of the lower half of his face. This combined with the obvious marks on our arms when we belligerently took our jackets off with the intent of showing everyone our “dress shirts” left little or no question as to the depths we’d fallen too.

There wasn’t much chance that anyone could miss we were in trouble.

Gray and Rosie tried to get us out the door before anyone made comment, but Robert began to argue and I began to whine as only a pair of junkies can. I was carrying on about the lack of fairness and Robert was getting pretty heated and loud. We were quite the floor show so it was no small wonder that Mrs. K finally noticed us.

Mrs. K descended upon us from across the room…waving the ever present lace hankercheif as she demanded….”wot? wot? Wot is this ye’ll be doin now?”

She drew herself up and sucked in a massive breath and began a tirade the likes of I’ve never seen or heard since.

“How.dare.you?” she demanded scathingly…

”How.dare.you.show.your.dirty.drug.addled.selves.here.in.the. presence. of.all.these.good.people? “

“People that are friends and dignitaries that hae’ come all this way ta show the respect to me poor dead Daithi’s memory? How dare you even breath the air he canna breath…such a waste…the likes of you two? How dare ye foul beggars…”

Robert had the good grace to look sheepish in the face of his mother’s wrath.

Me?

I started to laugh.

Slowly, gradually building to something resembling the hysterical crescendo that that we all remember of the wicked witch of the east in the Wizard of Oz.

Right over the edge.