This month I’ve seem to have fallen back on nostalgic favorites. Both of these series are pretty near and dear to my heart, and have been for several years now. Rewatching/rereading them is like wrapping myself up in my old childhood blankets. Sometimes one just needs a bit of familiar comfort, you know?
The Jill Kismet series, by Lilith Saintcrow
I pick up this series of books every once in awhile when I need an extra kick in the pants. Now, I tend to gush about Lilith Saintcrow–I adore her writing and her characters. She has such real, visceral characters that I feel like, sometimes, they are real people and Lilith is merely their biographer. They have flaws and make mistakes, but their flaws are mistakes are normal, what regular, every day sort of people would make. (I’ve read stories where authors, in attempt to balance out the mistake/success ratio, would make their characters do stupid, inconceivable things. It’s jarring to me, and I frequently stop reading a book if it happens too many times).
Anyway, because her characters are so real to me, I have a hard time talking about them. It’s like asking me, “Oh, do you like Jill?” To which I answer, “Of course, she’s a really neat gal.” Then you would reply, “Why is that?”
And my answer is, inevitably, “Um, because she is…?”
Yeah, sometimes I’m just not capable of detailed analysis when it comes to things I like.
But I have been thinking a lot about Jill Kismet and her six books Ms. Saintcrow has been so kind as to write for us. I like Jill because she gets stuff done. It may not be pretty, and she may not always be right, but she always gets back up and finishes the job. Always.
Sometimes, I need that reminder in my life. Sometimes I need that inspiration to get up and finish a job. And even though I’m on the fourth read-through of the entire series (by six, I will have most of it memorized, I’m sure), Jill consistently gives me the kick in the pants I need to get up and get stuff done.
And besides, Jill is freaking cool.
(Oh, one last thing: the Jill Kismet series is now in one large omnibus volume! Convenient!)
I’ve been watching a lot of Castle recently. Mostly because I’ve have a knitting project I’m finishing up, and I like to have something on while I’m playing with yarn. But Castle has been near and dear to my heart ever since it started in 2009. I mean, a cop drama about a bestselling author who tags along with a homicide detective? C’mon, the show was practically written for me.
The one thing that I really like about Castle (besides Nathan Fillion–although, he is a pretty big draw for me), is that it seems like every time I watch it, I become inspired to write. Not in the same way that reading a Jill Kismet novel inspires me to write, mind. No, I watch the show, watch Nathan Fillion gallivanting around as best-selling author Richard Castle, a man who’s rich and famous and did it all by writing books… and I get jealous. I want that stuff. I could have that stuff. He did it all by writing, so why can’t I?
Yes, I get it. The odds of making that sort of scratch from writing is astronomically against my favor. I get that it’s a character written for a television show; a character written for a cop drama, no less. Yes, yes, I understand all that.
It’s irrational, sure. But that blind jealousy inspires me to write, so why look a gift horse in the mouth?
And besides, the show is pretty good. And I like Nathan Fillion. Win-win, right?
That’s all for this month. Catch you later!