Different phases of life affect literary choices. As a young girl I could not get enough of Nancy Drew, The Happy Hollisters and gothic romance. Then came the phase of romance. It lasted the through child bearing, because let’s face it, what is romantic about the ages from potty training and beyond drivers training? In recent past, through the present, I prefer Suspense or Suspense Thrillers. I like the challenge and the surprises they can bring. When my writer persona puts on her big girl pants I want her to write amazing suspense.
If you can handle the profane with a huge serving of exceptional writing, Blood on the Tracks by Barbara Nickless delivers it all. Along with anything by Lee Child, Harlan Coben, Joel C. Rosenberg, Tess Gerritsen, Anne Frasier, Rita Herron, Jennifer Hillier, Kathy Reichs, Susan McBride and James Hankins.
Every now and then I take a nostalgic trip back into romance but it has to be quirky, like something Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Catherine Bybee, Denise Grover Swank, Jennifer Cruisie or Susan Sey writes.
Sadly, there isn’t enough space in one meager blog post to list all the wonderful writers I have read. If the term “writers read” is apt, I am indeed a writer. Recently I watched a program, I don’t remember what it was, but the main female character commented that once you have lived a tragic life and death situation you don’t have the patience to read made up stories.
Therein lies a tragedy bigger than a life and death situation. To not read, and live inside my imagination between the pages of a book, makes the world a harsher place. The gift of storytelling transports us to be higher and brighter than what we can be as mere mortals. To live each day in reality is a punishment worse than death in my estimation. A good dose of Jenny Lawson should teach the tragic realist there is hilarity in every horrible situation.