Books Make Life Sweeter… or at least more bearable

People often comment on my good humor and how I must have been a sweet-natured kid. Ummm. No. My nickname was Tank because I would just plow through anyone who got in my way or pissed me off. That is, until around the age of six and I discovered books.

Books are my release valve.

It’s how I deal with squabbling kids, the bottomless laundry basket and fidiots who dart in front of me to snag my parking space to avoid walking an extra twenty feet. It’s not escapism, really, because I do separate the kids before blood is spilled (barely), everyone is wearing clean clothes (when I remind them), and I haven’t been arrested for road rage (yet). Books give me space and perspective, or at the very least a respite.

I’m a single mother of twins who are archenemies. So I read a LOT.

I devour books, sometimes two or three a day, depending on the amount of actual property damage.  Anything and everything I can get my hands on except autobiographies, self-help manuals and current affairs. Hmmm. I guess that’s anything with an element of fantasy. It’s hard to forget kids jumped on the bed until the laptop fell off and won’t restart while reading about Clinton’s wandering eye, but boy give me one of Crusie’s dipsy heroine’s and I’m grinning ear to ear again.

So I’d like to offer a big, worldwide hug for authors everywhere. Thank you. I’d probably be a 6 o-clock news feature by now if not for your amazing worlds and the few hours of relief they’ve offered.

Thank you Dr. Seuss for making my reading nook the coolest place in the cramped bedroom I shared with my obnoxious little sister. If I’d strangled her for stealing my clothes I’d not have a best friend today.

Thank you Carolyn Keene, whoever you all may be, for clever mysteries that made me forget the teasing that followed starting at a new school every year. And the clever tricks to prove my brother stole my piggy bank. Again.

Thank you Judy Blume for reminding me that not all boys are total doofuses. Oh, and for the sex-ed lesson my Mom didn’t describe in such detail. LOL

Thank you Jude Deveraux and the entire Taggert Clan who kept me from taking a baseball bat to my first car every time it left me stranded on the side of the highway. Adversity makes us stronger, right? I’m still waiting on my coal mine to take off.

Thank you Susan Elizabeth Phillips for allowing me to smile while the cops explained my moving truck was stolen with every single thing I owned in this world. And whoever has the pictures of my ever-expanding waist while pregnant with twins… you can keeps those.

Thank you Judith McNaught for saving me from strangling my kids when they thought it would be fun to wash clothes. With food from the fridge. Especially the crafty choice to use leftover spaghetti sauce and milk and the subsequent $14,000 hickory floor replacement bill.

Thank you J.R. Ward for kicking ass so I didn’t have to tell the numbskull  in the car next to mine to knock the decibels down to something Icelanders can’t hear, too. Or going postal when my old boss “lost” my retirement. Yeah. Thanks for saving me from that one.

Thank you Jennifer Crusie for making me laugh at cheating ex-husbands everywhere. Nuff said.

And finally, thank you Sherrilynn Kenyon for being so prolific. Your books have saved me from too many all-out, crazy as a loon moments in my life that would have made me bat-shit crazy and in a straight-jacket by now. This grin is for you!

There are many other authors who’ve brought me back from the brink over the years, far too many to name here, so I’ll say thank you to all authors everywhere. Your words, your worlds, your amazing characters have been appreciated in more ways than you know!

I’m sure I’m not the only one whose foray into fantasy has saved them from YouTube fame, so please share the authors who help you diffuse the chaos of your life: )

Oh, and as a special incentive I’ll be giving away a $15 B&N gift card to one lucky, random commenter!