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Harry Potter wine charms at Auntie B’s Wax.

Over the past few months I’ve been reading the Harry Potter books. They were well-received gifts to Paenney (my nephew) for various occasions when he was younger, so Charlotte has a nice collection of them in Paenney’s section of the bookshelf. Unfortunately the collection stops at Order of the Phoenix, which is the fifth out of seven books. I got a little panicky when I finished the Order of the Phoenix because I knew there would be no more, at least coming from Charlotte’s house. Going to sleep with Hogwarts on my mind had become routine, and everyone knows I loathe a change of routine.

I’ll revisit Hogwarts at some point, but for now I’m revisiting a book I read years ago. About twenty years ago to be more specific. I read it on the beaches of Sanibel Island, Florida during a time where an imaginary escape to New Orleans to meet the Mayfair witches was just the medicine I needed, along with the calming seashore. The book is The Witching Hour by Anne Rice.

My latest indulgence.

Way back then, Anne Rice was the only person I knew of who wrote about things that fascinated me, like vampires and witches, in such a captivating way. Her descriptive powers could put people, houses, and cities in my mind’s eye with incredible detail. I’ve collected a number of her books throughout the years and really love what she wrote throughout the decades of the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s.

So I’m being enraptured all over again with the Mayfair witches. Maybe when I’m finished reading the one thousand plus pages of this book I’ll go back to Hogwarts. Or maybe I’ll choose to stay in New Orleans and select another book from my Anne Rice collection. One thing’s for sure, my reading choices lately are those of extreme imagination. Magic and the preternatural in a gothic setting will get me every time.

To what kind of worlds do you like to fly when you read?

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The weekend is upon us and I breathe a sigh of relief.  What’s in store?  Oh, not much.  A little house cleaning, a little socializing, a little production to increase my inventory, and a little relaxing. 

I’m looking most forward to the relaxing part.  I’ve rediscovered the bliss of going to bed at a decent hour and unwinding with a book.  An actual book.  I hope they never go out of fashion, because from what I’ve been hearing the brain likes to read pages much better than reading a screen, especially before bedtime.  Kindles are cool, but books are the bomb.

Light some candles, or set a fire on the hearth this weekend. Turn off the noise and breathe deep.

How about you? Any plans for destressing or recharging?

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I might as well just admit it ~ I don’t take time to read as much as I’d like to. This winter I started a book. I was so excited, as it was from one of my favorite authors, in one of my favorite genres…scary.

Horror Story at Auntie B's Wax

Having had three pretty serious colds this winter, I thought a good book would be quite soothing.  With a box of Kleneex by my side, my fleecy blanket keeping me warm I started on what I thought would be a perfect escape from focusing on my plugged up nose and watery eyes. I read. I read some more. I became increasingly confused and completely disengaged in the story. What had become of my author? Could it be she stopped writing fiction and began pouring her own issues into that of her characters? Tres boring! Vague and erroneous titles were given to people, events, and yes, even trees put me off most of all. I had no idea what was going on.

I tried and tried for several nights to continue the story, hoping it would get better, hoping it would engage me.  I put it down for a week and went back to it.  It didn’t become any more clear, it continued to irritate me, and worst of all, it wasn’t scary at all.

The book is on my bedside table with the bookmark removed. I couldn’t bear to go on with it.

I’m disappointed with my former “favorite” author and wish she could get off her high horse and write like she used to when she lived in the Garden District. Luckily I kept some of my favorites from her, written back in the day when she had more imagination and less issues.

My third (and hopefully final) cold of the season has waned, but I’m still going to try to read. I want a story to take me away from the pressures of the day. I want something that keeps me interested, entertained, intrigued. Charlotte not only recommended one, but also lent it to me. It’s not scary, but she said it’s a page-turner, so that’s where my reading adventures will go next.  Charlotte always knows the good books.

Reading Girl at Auntie B's Wax

Have you had time to read a book lately? What’s your favorite? Do you have any suggestions for me?

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