I miss this blog and SBD (Ilona Andrews)

I miss it the way you miss someone you see at work every day who vanishes. Your world isn't changed because this isn't a close friend, only someone you nod to. It's all part of the ritual of your morning and when it's gone, you feel slightly bereft, for maybe ten minutes the first time, five the second time, and then it's just an almost unnoticeable ache at the bottom of a single breath.

That's like most of the jobs I've had--when it's time to go, I gently remove myself from them. I reduce hours, cut back days and then, eventually, slip away. It's less jarring than the big goodbye party. Not sure why I do it that way, but that's how I operate. Unless I get hit by a bus, I imagine that's how I'll slip out of existence.

Lucky for me, I can just come by and say hi here. I keep forgetting that. This ritual nod only requires me. It's a look in the mirror.

SBD I'm doing Ilona Andrews. I love the unabashed bloodthirstiness of the characters. I like the writing--definitely smooth even with two people doing the work.

I'm ready for the next book but now I've run out of them. Good thing. If it kept up, I'd have to just hand my next royalty check over to Andrew and Ilona. I'm avoiding the other series they wrote because contrary to what you might think, I do have a life, sort of.

Chances are I'll mix up Frost with Andrews, with a couple of other writers of urban fantasy. But I think, at the moment, I like Andrews best. The world is amazing, the whole magic on/off is fun and, like I said, no apologizing for creating corpses. If we're going for a whole new world, might as well let the old rules go. This is definitely a video game life. Also Kate (fine name) is changing through the books. She's growing up and is less act first think later now. That's okay. Also I like the easter eggs. Lots of Princess Bride and other things thrown in there. Kate's a heck of a lot more intriguing than old Buttercup.


Popular posts from this blog

what I'm talking about above--the letter in RWR

My Writing Day with an Unproductive Brain