I had a novel (heh) experience last week. I took all three kids to the pool and discovered that I could actually sit and relax. They all, finally, can swim. They all, finally, can entertain themselves. They don't NEED NEED NEED me every blinking second.
So the next day, I tried something else. I took a book to the pool.
And there I sat, in a low lounger in the zero entry, and read my novel while my three
getting-older-ish children frolicked happily in the water for TWO HOURS. I would have a picture of this amazing
spectacle eight-and-a-half years in the making, but I was too freaked out by it
to attempt retrieving the phone for documentation. This situation was too new, and it was
precarious. I feared that any shift in
position could cause the gods of relaxation to be angered, thereby imparting my
children to immediately demand snacks, or produce diarrhea, or start punching
each other over dive sticks or something.
It was kind of like a standoff with a wild beast of the jungle – if I
didn’t move, maybe I would remain hidden in the foliage. So I stayed put, and barely breathed. FOR TWO WHOLE HOURS. TWO.
Bliss.
I know those of you with very young children are thinking
something along the lines of, “What is this of which you speak?” Believe me, I’ve paid my dues. There was one summer in which I was taking
them all to the pool at the ages of three, two, and four months. (We live in south Texas. The pool is mandatory in the summer.) I don’t remember much about that time other
than the lifting and heaving of one water-soaked toddler after another, during
which a sleeping infant was strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn. It wasn’t pretty. So this reading-at-the-pool thing is
well-earned, and I’m loving it.
And what was I reading, you may ask? Put this one on your summer list right
away.
It’s always a treat to pick up a novel that I think will be
a fun, fluffy read, and discover that the author is doing something smart and
new and unexpected. The Hypnotist’s Love Story is a love story, yes, but with a sort of
creepy twist (a stalker!). The main
character, Ellen, is completely lovable and relatable – as well as very
self-aware and insightful, which contributes to the interesting psychological layers
of the narrative. Sydney, Australia
serves as setting for the rom-com (and what is
Vegemite, by the way?). And the dialogue
is fantastic – some of the lightest and most humorous conversational writing
I’ve seen since Harry Potter! In my
opinion, the dialogue is Moriarty’s particular strength.
In closing, I need to brag about something. I can't help myself, please bear with me.
LOOK at what she’s READING!
(It’s the real one.
Not a watered-down version. She’s
on page 100 and loving it. Eeek!)
(!!!)
