A writer reading, and reading, and reading, and….

With a pinched sciatic nerve I’ve been spending a lot of time stretched out flat and reading. Recently, I discovered another whodunit writer. One who’s fertile mind cracks me up and makes me laugh out loud almost as much as Janet Evanovich’s does. Her name is Kate Carlisle, and in her bibliophile series, the main character—book restoration expert Brooklyn Wainwright, along with her Deadhead parents, and many other priceless characters, romp through an absolute joyful (for the reader) but deadly (for some characters) series. I have to keep pulling my eyeballs back, slowing them down and savoring each word because it will be painful when there are no more.

In between the murder and mayhem I just finished a wonderful book by Priscilla Warner, called Learning to Breathe. The reader follows her along on her outer journey travelling inwards as she attempts to end the debilitating  panic and anxiety attacks she has suffered with all her life. I had my doubts about it but found her writing easy and captivating. She goes from alcohol to medications, from mantra’s to Jewish ritual baths, from Ayurvedic oil treatments to therapy. It’s a fascinating ride with her.

Here’s one  small selection that pretty much sums things up when it comes to the soul.

Priscilla is ending a meeting with a rabbi,(or soul doctor as she calls him) by asking if he’s a mystic.His reply is, “Mysticism is the study of the soul.” He tells her that he is often asked the question,”Where does the soul go after death?” He imagines an imaginary dialogue between a refrigerator and the flow of electricity. The refrigerator asks the electricity, “Where do you go when they pull my plug?” And the electricity replies, “What arrogance! I go where I always go. Where do you go? They just invented you a hundred years ago—you’re just a box. You’ve learned to contain my energy for a while, to refrigerate food, and now you think you’re it? You’re not where it’s at. I’m where it’s at! I go back to the unconfined place, unfettered by containers and boxes like you.”

The rabbi ends with, “The soul is where it’s at.”

I am so glad I’ve read her book!

Nuff said


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