Feb 15, 2019 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
My Perfect Valentine’s Day
(Or, How I Embraced My Independent Singleness and Lived My Love Out Loud)
~#~
NOLA NOTE: Before we get into today’s post, I’m pleased to announce NOLA second draft is now at the editor’s desk (not mine!), and I’ve hired a book designer who is currently designing the cover, internal layout, and eBook specs. I don’t have a firm pub date yet, but it will be soon-ish! I’d love to have y’all join my private Facebook group for more information, memes, and all-around fun. You can join on Facebook by clicking here: NOLA Swarm.
Stay tuned for publication updates . . .
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Valentine’s Day is not one of my favorite days. The commercialism of lovemeloveme stuff? I’d rather not, thankyouverymuch. Okay, I’m sure if I had the opportunity to, you know, share it with someone, I’d feel different. But even then, I’m not so sure.
Don’t get me wrong, I love flowers, wine, and chocolate as much ~ if not more ~ as the next girl, but This Girl is also logical. I don’t go in for one-day-a-year Gooey Eyes. I just don’t. Now, spoil me regularly, and then we can talk. [Insert eye-roll here.]
So today I focused on what y’all now call “self-love.” I dunno how that phrase got started, but I’m cool with embracing it.
Today, after I got all dolled up, my non-boyfriend [translate: car I named after my protagonist, Rain] took me all over town. Instead of flowers, wine and chocolate, we stopped to get a post office box. A vehicle title. A driver’s license.
All in my new hometown. All for my new life.
Which I am loving more than I thought possible.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My Perfect Valentine’s Day
It totally helped that it was a balmy day and I got to spend most of it with the windows down and the radio up. (Big surprise, right?)
Love comes in many forms. We all know this. But when it emanates with ebb and flow, in and out of us, to share with others, there’s a harmony, an unsung tune that only we can give music to. That’s life. That’s love.
There’s always something to celebrate. Channel your inner Pollyanna if you have to. Make a list. Sing it out loud.
Darlin’, there is always something to celebrate.
And today, I celebrate no longer living in California.
Today, I am officially a True Southerner.
So tonight, I enjoyed a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen, and watched Gone With the Wind.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My Perfect Valentines Day with a Peanut Buster Parfait from Dairy Queen
Yup. Today’s all about the Southern love.
How did you share love? Leave a comment!
With a new drawl and a pin in the map,
Happy living love.
~Molly Jo
Frankly, My Dear . . . Savor the Journey!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Bohemian Hurricane
Molly Jo is a Southern Belle and known to her friends as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her work-in-progress, NOLA, is a full-length location mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series.
Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest.
Nov 17, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @@MollyJoRealy
Frankly, My Dear . . . :Five Things Friday
Ahh, winter. Wait. What? It’s only November. Okay. Ahh, autumn.
Somewhere.
Sometimes here in the desert. But not too much. And not too often.
Still, there’s a lot to be said about living in SoCal when the season starts its thang.
“Such as?” you ask. Hey. Someone asked, or I wouldn’t be writing this post. Okay. You got me. It was me. Still, as I’m screaming to nobody in my car while driving Bear Valley Road (much to the attentions of other drivers, mind you), “What good is November in Southern California?! I mean, seriously?!” Well. Let me tell ya.
- We sometimes get winter weather. Or at least the threat of it.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : November in California
- But by afternoon it can be [Note, I said can be] 75 and sunny. #bestofbothworlds
- Nobody looks at you funny when you blast The Beach Boys Christmas Album from your car. At least they shouldn’t. Little Saint Nick. Classic. Just sayin’.
- It makes you appreciate the falling leaves as few and far between as you find them. The scent of patchouli is a rare favorite at Bedford Manor.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Fallen Leaves
- The nearby mountains start making their own snow if you’re inclined to ski and snowboard and that sort of thing. [Thinkin’ of you, Denise!] But since I’m not . . .
- BONUS ITEM: It’s never too early to put up your Christmas decor. Even if it’s sunny and there’s no snow. #bestofbothworlds #again
Frankly, My Dear . . . : November in California
What do you like about November where you live?
TWEET THIS: What do like about #November where you live? @MollyJoRealy #California
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
Nov 1, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
There’s a Louis L’Amour quote I discovered years ago when reading his short story collection.
Frankly, My Dear . . .: Louis L’Amour, The Beginning
That’s never been more true to me than this very minutes.
Fifteen minutes ago, I typed the most beautiful words.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : The End
I’ve both dreaded and looked for this moment for years. In the last months, weeks, days it became increasingly difficult for me to not be emotional. I felt I was building up to a loss in my life. Soon I would finish, type those two last words, and say good bye to these characters I’ve grown to love.
Oh, but that’s so not true. I’ve not lost them. I’ve set them free. Now is the part everyone told me would come. Now I send them to my editor, my almost-agent, my alpha readers. Now I let others start to discover the beauty of NOLA.
Now, instead of ending this world, I get to share it.
Now comes the real beginning of the life of NOLA.
But first, beignets and chicory.
Happy reading, y’all.
It’s time for This Girl to get some rest.
Tomorrow I start writing CENTRAL.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Oct 24, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Last week it was cloudy. Windy. A bit rainy. And, yup. A carnival came to town. Did I go? Puh-leese. Do ducks eat hippopotamus? Of course not. I’m all for a good scare, but on my own terms. I certainly don’t need my own version of Something Wicked This Way Comes.
But all y’all know I love thriller suspense and ghost stories, yah? I’m not talking those icky, gory, demon-possessed movies, although I wouldn’t mind seeing Stephen King’s IT before it leaves theatres. [Note to self: buy movie ticket for friends. There’s safety in numbers.]
So for those moments I can’t find someone to go to the movies with, [translate: Ain’t no one wanting to sit next to me when I get scared. I go home still scared. They go home with bruised and decirculated limbs.] it’s safer for everyone when I hunker down in the soft chair and read a good book.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Two Books to Read
This time of year, my two go-to favorites are The Haunting of America by Jean Anderson, and Great Southern Mysteries by E. Randall Floyd.
I didn’t have a passion for the South (that I know of) until the last five or so years. It tickled into me as I began to write NOLA, and grew into my lifeblood as I attended the Blue Ridge conference and met so many wonderful Southern people I now consider family. But looking back, it’s evident I have always been a displaced Southerner. [Read: By The Pricking of My Thumb.] It’s spooky how something from my childhood could be reclaimed with such impetus; how something I was unaware of took root decades before I recognized its force in my life.
I’ve been reading The Haunting of America since I was in grade school. I used to check it out of the libraries regularly. Remember when you’d sign your name on the lined card and the librarian would date stamp it so you’d know when to return it? My librarian always joked I should just keep the book for as often as I checked it out. The card had my name, my name, my name, someone else–wait, what?! Someone else dared to borrow my book from the library? I was appalled. Worse, I was restless. There was no substitute. It was a long two weeks before I had my treasured book back in my hands. Some years ago I was thrilled–no pun intended–to find a used copy on Amazon. Needless to say, it was a short two days before I had my treasured book back in my hands.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Marie Laveau
The Haunting of America is a collection of 24 “true” ghost stories. It’s written for children, but adults will appreciate it as well. It’s where I first met the Gray Man and Marie Laveau. It affirmed what I already knew about Lincoln, and orbs. And it’s where I first visited the Winchester Mystery House. Each story is just a few pages long, making them easy to read, and just as easy to thrill.
Great Southern Mysteries is another collection of short ghost stories, but this is written for adults. The Riddle of the Mounds and In Search of Cofitachequi are just two of the unexplained happenings that fill the book. Lost islands, Flight 19, ghost lights.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : The Riddle of the Mounds
The Gray Man and Marie Laveau are here, too.
The beauty of short story collections is you can reread only the ones you know will raise the hair on all y’all’s cackles. Which, come to think of it, is every story.
What do you like to reread this time of year?
TWEET THIS: Two books to read this week. @MollyJoRealy #amreading #mystery #haunts
With a reading lamp and security blanket,
Happy haunts!
~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Sep 7, 2017 |
by Molly Jo Realy @RealMojo68
Still Waters by Lindsey P. Brackett
So. This author? Lindsey? We kissed frogs together. #truestory.
Frankly, My Dear . . . Kissing Our Frog Princes at Blue Ridge
She has completely hunted me down threatened encouraged me to embrace my inner Southern Belle and pushed me toward being the person I am today. Yeah, I’m sorry. Wait. What?
No, seriously. Since I met her a few years ago, she’s been nagging me. “When are you gonna write for Splickety?” “How can I pray for you?” “Are you working on NOLA this week?” “When do we get to have coffee?” I mean, the girl is just . . . such an encourager. Sigh.
Annnnnd in the throes of being a wife, mother, magazine editor, and local newspaper columnist, she just published her debut novel, Still Waters.
Cora Anne Halloway has a history degree and a plan: avoid her own past—despite being wait-listed for graduate school. Then her beloved grandmother requests—and her dispassionate mother insists—that she spend the summer at Still Waters, the family cottage on Edisto Beach, South Carolina.
Despite its picturesque setting, Still Waters haunts Cora Anne with loss. At Still Waters her grandfather died, her parents’ marriage disintegrated, and as a child, she caused a tragic drowning. But lingering among the oak canopies and gentle tides, this place also tempts her with forgiveness—especially since Nan hired Tennessee Watson to oversee cottage repairs. A local contractor, but dedicated to the island’s preservation from development, Tennessee offers her friendship and more, if she can move beyond her guilt.
When a family reunion reveals Nan’s failing health, Cora Anne discovers how far Tennessee will go to protect her—and Edisto—from more desolation. Will Cora Anne choose between a life driven by guilt, or one washed clean by the tides of grace?
I’ll review Still Waters next week, but tonight, we’re celebrating. How? Why, having a Facebook Launch Event, of course! C’mon, you know you want in on this action.
Here’s all you have to do: Click this link: Still Waters Launch Party. That’s it. Follow the link, click, “going”, and show up. I’ll be interviewing Lindsey about her book, the writing process, and her life, and she’s got a few giveaways for y’all as well.
Oh, and you can follow Lindsey P. Brackett on Twitter, too.
TWEET THIS: Join the fun for the release of @lindsbrac debut novel #StillWaters. @RealMojo68 #FBLaunchEvent #amreading
With a party hat and bookworm heart,
Happy reading!
~Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
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