So I have a secret. For the last several months, I have fallen down the guilty-pleasure-reading rabbit hole. It all started while browsing the 25¢ bin at my local Friends of the Library Book Sale. Picked up a copy of Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey, and I guess, I never looked back.
The bright green cover with a triumphant woman flying high on the golden wings of her dragon might inspire anyone to test the waters of 70's fantasy fiction...but for me it was an instantaneous flashback to my teenage years. Staying up late reading, existential conversations on dragonlore with--I swear to god--other Pernophiles on a text based MUD (Multi User Dungeon) game. Wanting to feel things the way a dragonrider does, and wishing fervently that a certain boy would call me. It was a very specific time in my life, and Less...
Sometimes, I like to hear the sound of my own voice. Singing in the shower, rehearsing conversations (both past and future encounters) to myself in the mirror, Writing blogs that probably no one will read. The usual. So here it goes.
I somehow doubt the process of making lip balm will enthrall many readers, so I'd like to claim this space for the catalyst behind the product: my love of reading! What am I reading, what do I want to read, what author events am I going to go to (well, ok, that one is not very likely), what we're covering in my book club...there's nothing more exciting that talking points from someone else's book club, right? Right?! Well, you get the idea.