St. Patty’s Origin & Top 5 Books from 2024

Still no rejection letters since my Meg Thompson submission. And, I submitted to two people last week to make up for missing my goal the prior week. But, no clue who I’m pitching to this week. It’s on my to-do list for tomorrow and I’m going to try and track down another agent who worked on a book I reeeeeally enjoyed.

Last year my top five books were:

  1. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver
  2. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
  3. the Spellshop by Sarah Beth Durst
  4. Weyward by Emelia Hart
  5. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett

None of these are technically in my category but you never know. The agent for The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (Fav book of 2023) led me to someone in their agency who would be a perfect match.

Just have to “dig a little deeper, Ross.” (Who knows that reference, haha).

It would feel ridiculous to post this without acknowledging it’s St. Patrick’s Day. Did you know this holiday got its boozey reputation when us Americans started to celebrate the holiday? It’s a religious holiday Ireland has observed for the last 1,000 years. Here’s a little origins article I found by the History Channel.

I won’t be drinking. But I will get dressed up in green and enjoy some bangers & mash for dinner.

Have a great week, friends. I hope something good happens to you this week.

Byeee.

Your Next Read: The Hate U Give

I’m currently reading The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas and I have to be honest, chapter two knocked me on my ass and I really appreciated it.

Its title is a nod to THUG LIFE—The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody—an acronym coined by rapper Tupac that encapsulates the cyclical nature of crime, poverty, and hate as a result of racism.

The second chapter is where Starr’s (main character) friend Khalil is shot and killed by an officer. He is unarmed.

And I don’t know who needs to hear this but…

When a cop pulls me over, I get sweaty. When a cop is driving behind me, my heart races. When I see cops in my neighborhood, I get nervous and feel myself go on alert.

I get sweaty because I know I’m not getting out of this ticket he’s about to write me (I’ve never managed to get out of one). My heart races because I’m hoping he’s not about to pull me over. I get nervous because the presence of a cop never means anything good is happening.

Never do I ever get sweaty, nervous, or whatever, because I am in fear of being killed. And that’s the difference. 

 

Everything you have ever wanted, is sitting on the other side of fear. (14)

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