Friday Fare

Friday Fare: 2/23/18 (The “Done With Winter” edition)

What is Friday Fare? As a recap, on Fridays I post link love to the various bits of arcane shiz I discover on the Interwebs.  I liken it to a glimpse into my mind, but without the 80s song lyrics or mental cobwebs.

Given that I talk a little bit about my recent trip down memory lane below, the timing of this article is fortuitous.  While the rest of my girlfriends were oogling a young Brad Pitt (This was right when “Legends of the Fall” and “A River Runs Through It” first came out.), I was making my girlfriends rent movies like “Dogfight” and “School Ties” so I could drool over Brendan Fraser.  (For my money, he’s still dreamy …)

This piece comes out of Canada and has some beautifully sumptuous details.  One of my favorite lines:  “… Nothing that implied flesh; Lanvin’s My Sin, the olfactory equivalent of a slinky black cat, would never do.”

Again with the nostalgia card.  I read two articles this week that had to do with authors important to my “upbringing” as a writer.  I remember a winter break where I read a small garbage pail full of Louis L’Amour books.  (No, I don’t think there was a hidden meaning that they were in a garbage pail.  My grandpa bought them at an auction and I think they were just put in there for ease of carrying / selling.)  This piece about some of L’Amour’s unfinished work and a chance to look at some of the method behind his madness with his drafts?  Sign me up.

V.C. Andrews.  She was a staple of my junior high cafeteria.  We’d earmark the sex scenes and then pass the book around so we could all educate each other on the finer points of fictional lovemaking (or something like that).  And you can laugh at me, but I had no clue that Ms. Andrews was dead.  Buzzfeed curated an amazing piece that goes into the “ghost of V.C. Andrews” and her amazing publishing afterlife.


Watching: Let’s run with this nostalgia thing, shall we?  I was folding laundry the other day and decided that I wanted to tackle laundry mountain while mindlessly watching TV.  So I went to Netflix and I clicked on “Riverdale” which is a modern retelling of the Archie comic books. (A favorite from junior high.)  Holy hell … a) I love the Archie comic books, so this is up my alley.  B) The makers of “Riverdale” are totally playing the nostalgia card – Mädchen Amick (she played Shelly Johnson in “Twin Peaks”) is Betty’s mom while Luke Perry (from “Beverly Hills 90210” fame) plays Archie’s dad.  Nostalgia sells, CW … good work.

Reading: I finished the Streep biography and had to return Amanda Hocking’s book (new release at the library and my time was up).  I had to read some books for a panel I moderated and very much enjoyed Sherry Roberts’ “The Down Dog Diary.”  (Roberts is a Minnesota mystery author and her book was just brain candy.)  I’m partway through John Gaspard’s “The Ambitious Card.” (Another Minnesota mystery, this features an amateur magician as the protagonist.  Fabulous.)  Also just got this one from the library:

Pendergast rarely lets me down.  This book is no exception.

Writing Life (and Life In General): Remember in my year-end recap how I talked about when my kids got sick in March 2017?  Well, they jumped a month and my entire family got some version of crud last week. 

I recovered in time for a good weekend of events, both writerly and not.  First, on Saturday, I moderated a panel about “celebrating the amateur sleuth” in Shakopee, Minnesota.  I had to make a stop at the Donut Connection for nostalgia’s sake.

Then on Saturday night, I spent a girls’ getaway with some of my dearest friends from high school.  Lots of laughter.  Lots of Fireball – more for them than for me.  On Sunday morning, I woke up with the intention of grabbing a cup of coffee and spending some time on “Dragonfly,” but one of my friends was awake and it was a bit of a no-brainer to sit on the couch and catch up with her.  Words on the page are important, but so is nurturing friendships and filling the well. Sometimes I think that I place an almost mythological spin on our friendship, but when I think about who I am today – they have a lot to do with it.  It was a great weekend.


I’m signing off from the land of nostalgia.  It’s cold here, not because of the memories – most of those are amazing.  It’s just freakin’ cold here in Minnesota and I need to remember to escape to a warmer climate next year.  Even if only for a weekend.

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