Comfy Chairs

Though my age certainly sets me squarely in the "adult" category, I am not yet settled in an adult-like way. I don't yet have a place to live that I can truly call my own.


Once I do, though, ohhhhh once I do. I will have a townhouse. That I don't own. Renter-4-life, yo. I don't want to have to mow my own lawn. Perhaps it will have some sort of common renter area, with things like tennis courts and a pool.  


It will be in the Northeast, where there are four seasons a year, and I'll be able to look out my beautiful bay windows and watch the leaves change, the rain fall, and the snow pile up. I will have a fireplace. And I will have a chair like this:


                  


Maybe it will have some colorful pillows on it. I will have a mug of hot cocoa on a side table and a stack of books next to the chair, and I will curl up with a fluffy blanket and read until my eyes droop. And I will be happy.

Let's Get Spooky

Over on YA Highway, they're asking: 


What books were you obsessed with as a kid?


I was a morbid kid. Quite frankly, I'm a morbid adult. I write horror / thriller scripts. Love scary books. Adore scary movies (the suspenseful, smart kind; not the gory, ridiculous kind.) So it should surprise no one that this was my favorite book when I was a kid:


                         


To say I read this book 20 times would be a gross understatement. It wasn't simply a ghost story. It also dealt with feelings of abandonment, loneliness, and the upheaval that comes when parents gets remarried and the children on each respective side have to learn to get along with one another. So, not exactly light topics.


I think that's why I loved it, though. I felt like Mary Downing Hahn wrote in a way that made things easy to grasp, while not talking down to me like I was, well, a kid. Plus, it was spooky as heck, and who doesn't love to be scared?

the King

                                         Day 9 of 365, originally uploaded by JaycieLove

I'm halfway through On Writing by Stephen King, and I'm loving it. I was already a huge fan of his books; the man can tell a damn good story. Hearing about how he approaches the craft is borderline too-good-to-be-true.

In the spirit of really trying to buckle down and knock out some pages, I retreated from my normal writing spot (the living room, shades drawn, TV on low in the background) to my bedroom. I shut the door, made myself a bootleg desk out of a book, and went all hermit-style.

It worked, too. I found it much easier to focus, and I completed my rewrite of our treatment in record time.

Imagine how productive I'd be if I actually had a desk!