I have started a new book! Exciting, yes, but also frustrating. I don’t have the time or the reservoir of anger that fueled Southern Vapors. I suppose not being so angry is a good thing, but I miss the burn. That said, there is still one teeny tiny topic that elevates my blood pressure in a nanosecond. If I can find the time to write about it, I think the burn will be there. So here’s an excerpt from the beginning:
Grace started to weep. “I can’t do this.” “I can’t hear it, I can’t think about the fact that your life is over.” “Yes you can,” says Danae. “It’s only pain.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, it’s only pain?” Unlike Danae, Grace’s face had always been expressive, and the distress she was feeling was written in every line of her drawn brow, in the twist of her mouth and in the darkness of her eyes. Danae flicked cigarette ash into her wilted salad, buying time. She knew that even with her closest friend, the one who knew almost everything, there was only so much she could expect her to understand. “Sorry, that’s the way I think, not you.” Since she had first read it in a self-help book in her thirties, Danae had adopted the expression as her mantra. Others may have lived by “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” but for Danae it was “When life gives you pain, make it your companion.”