Tag: summer reading

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Summer Reading & Writing

Cabin in the Woods

I just returned from my first summer getaway—and it was lovely. I’ve been renting this cabin on Lake Nockamixon for the past few years, sometimes as a solitary retreat in the dead of winter (which is actually one of my favorite times to go). But this year, it was more of a family affair.

I grew up in the country, so it’s in my soul. Coming from a large family that could, at times, feel chaotic, I used the woods—and climbing tall trees—as my emotional escape. Nothing soothes my nerves quite like a deep, quiet forest.

Honestly, I could easily become a hermit. I dream about it constantly. Maybe my dream doesn’t include the insects or the occasional field mouse, but I’d still take that kind of pest over the human kind any day.

Am I confessing to misanthropy? Not at all. I love people—but I love solitude more. It’s just the way I’m built. We all need to honor our natures, and mine craves quiet, natural spaces for comfort and restoration.

My childhood home

Perhaps this is one reason I became an avid reader as a kid—often perched up in a tree. Escaping into fantasy might not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but it’s far less destructive than many others. Writing, self-expression, creating plays and stage personae—none of that’s really changed. They’re all ways of coping, I suppose, if you dig in a bit deeper, but I’ll save that for my therapist.

Naturally, I brought books with me to the cabin, along with my sketchbook to indulge my latent (yet still sadly undeveloped) drawing talent, and my guitar—which I barely strummed the entire time. I have a notebook full of unfinished songs, but since I’m too shy to play around anyone, so finishing them will have to wait for the next solitary retreat.

But I did read. I’m currently indulging in a Richard Laymon read-a-thon I’m hosting on my YouTube channel with some BookTube pals. Extreme horror/splatterpunk is a genre I only dip into occasionally—for obvious reasons. It’s often gross, absurd, and, yes, frequently misogynistic. So, why was I the one to suggest this read-a-thon in the first place? LOL! Who knows. Go with it. I love a good gory drive-in movie in the summer, so Laymon it is. I’m on my fourth novel this month. I’d love a dollar for every “rump” and “turgid nipple” I’ve come across, but hey—I’m having fun. I may need to cleanse my palate with a cozy mystery when it’s all over.

Long summer days tend to bring out more focused writing in me. As a lifelong early riser, I try to knock out at least a thousand words each morning on my current work-in-progress. I recently released two YA romance novellas, and I’m now finishing up Book Two of an epic fantasy series that I still can’t believe I challenged myself to write. But here we are.

That’s my summer so far—and my summer plans. But as we know, life can change in an instant. All we can do is enjoy the day we’re blessed with.

Hope yours is a good one.

New Fiction – Click to View

Beach Reads, Baby

It’s the Fourth of July weekend. My poor dog is hiding beneath my desk from the a-holes lighting firecrackers in the street, and I’m wishing I were down the shore with one of my favorite paperbacks, the more well-thumbed the better, sand stuck between salt-stained pages. Whether it’s a bodice ripper romance or an old-school horror classic, dog-eared and dirty evokes a certain nostalgia. 

One of my favorite Jersey Shore retreats has a stack of well-worn books I revisit each year like old friends. Some books may have been swallowed by the sea, left on the sand, or absconded in a piece of luggage, but another one is always left in its wake. When it comes to beach reading, my taste leans toward the sleaziest romance or horror offerings. Monsters or monster c***s hit the sweet spot every time. 

A few recommendations:  

Lace by Shirley Conran

No matter what beach rental I stay in, I always seem to find a copy of Lace. It doesn’t matter if I already know which bitch is her mother, I zip through the pages as if they’re greased with Coppertone. If rain ruins your day at the beach, you can always pop in the Lace mini-series. 

Once is Not Enough by Jacqueline Susann 

Forget Valley of the Dolls. When the sleaze includes a daddy-obsessed heroine, drug-filled orgies, a nipple-pinching Dr. Feelgood, and the rape of an entire convent of nuns, your sleaze bases are covered. One New York Times critic groused that the 1966 bestseller was, ” populated by “a cast of obscure, unpleasant, implausible, stupid, or sly characters who lurk in the mind for weeks only because one wants to meet and kick them.” For quality like this, one read is definitely not enough.

Jaws by Peter Benchley

Benchley reinvented the classic sea monster story with a realistic spin that made us all afraid of the water. The film is superior on many levels, but nothing says beach-read quite like a well-thumbed copy of Jaws. Just look at that cover!

The Jersey Devil by Hunter Shea

If you think sea monsters are scary, try driving through the New Jersey Pineys a night. The Garden State wilderness contains its own thrills and chills among the scrubby pines. Shea’s flying maneaters will keep you well-entertained as you bake in the sun.

 

 

 

 

 

For more beach read recommendations according to your zodiac sign, check out Batida’s July Horrorscope.