Welcome to our first post of That’s Normal In Real Life where we discuss real life situations that are normal.. or are they?
Confession: I’m obsessed with a book series I’m not sure is even good.Oh but it IS
(I just talked like Mac & Barrons and Mac and the Sinsar Dubh*.)
Yes, my dear TN friends, I have fallen prey to the powers of the Urban-fantasy, kinda erotica book series: The Fever Series. (Beth, Jamie & Elise broke down Book 1 just recently)
It’s written by a woman who clearly doesn’t understand what is cool to 20 somethings or how anyone born after 1967 talks. I hear she’s a cougar- I’m not sure because I was told not to google her until I was done reading lest my opinion of her and the men she created changes (but I have guesses, I mean, there isn’t a man she’s described with hair shorter than shoulder length)
The series features a guy who would be locked up were he to exist in real life. He’s an abuser and a coercer, but so damn attractive I can’t quite picture him in my head- Is he this beefy fighter I would never normally be attracted to? Is he like this suave, dark-haired Italian man I generally would never look at a second time? I don’t know.
I definitely know it’s not THIS guy
My dreams have been filled with Fairies (kinda) and fanged beasts. Just last night I dreamed I was going to my childhood best friend’s bridal shower (it’s this Sunday and I still need a gift) which was in a windowless warehouse. Everything was going fine until the lights went out and I had to get out my sword to fight The Shades (creatures who kill in the dark. Apparently my dreams forgot the sword can’t hurt them)
I haven’t done anything in over 10 days. I started this book series on May 5th at 11:34 pm and have been trying to finish for 3 days now (Warning: Book 5 is never ending. At least I hope. Not sure what I’ll do when it’s over)
Here is what HASN’T happened while I’ve been lost in the world created by this cougar-long-hair-man-loving lady:
I haven’t been interested in food.
Why eat when I can read? That takes effort. And effort means I can’t read. Last night around 10 pm, after my stomach growled so hard it woke the cat sleeping next to me, I decided to listen. I made peas and rice. What? It was quick & easy! Then I got back to my book.
I haven’t been a good friend.
Jamie came over the other night. I warned her I wasn’t in a friendly mood. I was reading. I made her sit in a chair in the corner of my living room while I read a few chapters.
I haven’t slept in.
Yesterday morning I left my house before 7 am so that I could be early for my train to work. Is it too much to ask for a few moments of silence to read, away from the house, the cats, the dishes piling up?
I haven’t caught up on news.
I pride myself on being connected to the news & what is going on in the world. I have no idea what is going on. Is Obama still president? Did North Korea nuke us yet? What’s going on in Dublin, have the walls come down yet? *book joke.
I haven’t cleaned.
I’m also pretty type-A, and a TOTAL neat freak. Though you’d never know that by looking at my house now- more importantly, smelling it. There is something wrong with my house. It smells like rotting fish. Jamie first noticed it Monday night. I thought I fixed it when we took out the trash. We did not. There is something rotting in my house. I don’t know what it is. So I’ve lit candles to mask the smell. I continue to read.
I haven’t worked in a week.
In fact, I started this post while at a meeting
I haven’t watched a thing on TV
except Nashville and the entire time I kept wondering why Gunnar was so whiney and when he was going to take Scarlett against a wall and bring her intense pleasure.
I haven’t behaved socially appropriately.
My older, male neighbor came by to borrow bourbon the other night. I had on my PJs, no make-up and my glasses. I looked like a crazy person. That was then I decided to fill him in on what I was reading.
And the worst thing of all is that it’s almost over. I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s done
I have to eat? I have to watch TV? I have to talk to friends in sentences other than “GAH %234970 WHAT? I can’t Believe it. NO”
Sometimes when I look at my bookshelf of unread books and iPad that hasn’t been touched in a months I feel guilty that I’m sitting on the couch, watching yet another terrible show about crime (I miss you Numbers). I try to be smart- smart girls read, right? “Readers are Leaders” is something my daddy always said to me growing up. (Although I’m pretty sure he wasn’t talking about urban fantasy erotica) But then I do. And this happens. I get lost. IN a book. IN a world that isn’t real. In my own Sinsar Dubh.* And I don’t want to come back. When I do there is let down. There is disappointment.
And I don’t think I can do it anymore. Now I remember why I haven’t read in months. Sorry Dad, this leader isn’t gonna be a reader. I’ll just take my crime shows please.
What do you think? Am I normal? Can you relate? Can someone pleeeeasseeeeee come hold me while we talk about Reading the Fever Series and JZB together?
FYI: Elise wrote an amazing poem after reading The Fever Series you must read.
*The Sinsar Dubh is this book everyone is hunting in the Fever series. It consumes the reader, makes them do things they would never do without it. If anyone finds a similar book that has the gift of finding strange smells in ones home, can you pass it on? Thanks
