Books Vs. Life

When life sucks ass, read books.

That’s been my way of coping for a long time. There’s nothing quite like getting lost in the imaginary worlds of fiction books to escape the shit that surrounds you. Even if it’s temporary, even if it’s not real, it provides a certain sense of balance and perspective, especially if the book you’re reading is particularly gruesome. Suddenly life doesn’t seem so bleak when you’re reading about somebody being chased by a maniac with an axe or getting trapped in an industrial ironing-and-folding machine (thank you, Stephen King).

I go to the library with my kid once a week or two on average. We usually go for the activities they have going on there. Sometimes they have a small live performance based on some book. Last week, they had a puppet-making workshop. And around once a month, we switch our books – four children’s books in Hebrew for her, and one fiction book in English for me. Incredibly, I haven’t seen any Stephen King in that library (not that it would matter anyway because I have his entire collection at home). So the first book I got was Harlen Coben’s Hold Tight. After that I got The Woods by the same author. The other day, I opted for Dean Koontz and borrowed The Eyes of Darkness. I just finished that book yesterday.

All these books were good and did their job of making life suck less ass. But I’m bookless again. And life is back to suckage overdrive.

Seriously, half of the world is on fire, the other half is flooded, Covid is raging and mutating and raging some more, people are catastrophically stupid, and I’m bookless.

Fuck this shit.

I finally broke and just blew a hearty 126 NIS on two more books from Book Depository – the new one by Stephen King which still eludes me, Billy Summers, and one he wrote with Richard Chizmar, Gwendy’s Button Box. The latter was released a few years back but I was reluctant to buy it because it was co-written with the other dude. It’s not that I’ve got anything against this Chizmar character. I’ve never read anything by him so I can’t really judge. It’s just that it’s not 100% King. There are two novels that Stephen King wrote with Peter Straub – The Talisman and Black House. I read the first and it was meh to blah. The second one, I read the first chapter and was bored to tears. I couldn’t pick it up again and it’s still sitting in my drawer at the office collecting dust. So I’ve been avoiding co-written books ever since. However, Stephen King also wrote a novel with his son, Owen King, Sleeping Beauties, but that one was phenomenal.

Anyway, I decided to give this King-Chizmar collaboration a shot. It can’t be as bad as Black House. And even if it is, at least it’s a novella, so the boredom will last only 192 pages. And it’s certainly nowhere near as bad as that horror program called “The 6 o’clock news”. Not that we watch that shit. Out internet is on the fritz so our TV also doesn’t work. But that’s yet another reason for me to score some books because no internet and no TV only serves to add fuel to the ass-suckage fire.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep going to the library. I’m going back there tomorrow for another performance of some book. While my kid is watching it, I’ll go back to the English fiction aisle and try to find me another literary cure for said ass-suckage. Maybe I’ll try to find something particularly scary. I can definitely dig some horror fiction right about now.

Peace, love and life is a rim-job.

31 Days of Zinesperation

The International Zine Month prompts are finally posted. Thank you, Alex Wrekk, you rock!

As I do with every zine-related month (for now there are only two I know of – IZM in July and ZineWriMo in November), I’ll list the prompts and try to edit them or switch their dates to fit my schedule and my priorities a bit better.

This year will be different because it’s not just my schedule and priorities that I need to consider, but also my level of energy which is down to the fucking ground right now.

There is also the fact that the entire world is boycotting Israel so it will be wise to keep in mind that not many international people will want to trade with me or be in contact with me or collaborate with me on anything. I am Israeli after all, and a Jew, and it’s like so rocking cool and totally bitchin to be hating on Jews nowadays.

Anyway, I already have my zine idea for this month (and if you’ve been following up on my blog, you also already know what it is). I’m still waiting on the answers to an interview I want to include in my zine, but it’s cool. If I get it by July 15, it’s perfectly on schedule and I’ll have enough time to work on the layout by then.

So here is my edited list for International Zine Month 2021!

July 1: I work the afternoon shift on that day so I have the whole morning to formulate an answer to the question “what is a zine?” But I think the morning will be better spent on brainstorming a bit more ideas for my zine. Maybe I’ll just write my answer for that question as a status update on Facebook or something once I get to the office. I’ll also add a list of why I love zines and thus cover the July 16 prompt as well.

July 2: Usually, I have Friday mornings off too, but that’s because my kid is in gan. Not happening in July though because she’s in camp and that doesn’t include Fridays. Maybe I can use the zine rewind to show her some of my zine collection. I miss the zine Welcome to Bend. I remember how much I enjoyed reading those. Maybe she will too.

July 3: Shabbats are basically impossible for me. But maybe if the group Witch & Bitch will be hosting some kind of virtual zine event on that day, I can try to make a brief appearance. No promises because honestly, I rather be sleeping on the Sabbath.

July 4: Sunday morning at work could be the perfect time for me to do some zine shopping. I can cover all my bases and do the activities for July 4 (AmeriZine Day), July 6 (Zine Pride Day), July 19 (Zine Distro Appreciation Day), and July 23 (Zine Distro I never ordered from before) which all involve buying zines. I can go to the IZM 2021 list on Stolen Sharpie Revolution to get ideas for zine distros to order from.

July 5: I’m not a huge fan of reviewing zines unless the zine in question really blew my mind. I’ll make this a Work-in-Progress day and work on my zine.

July 6: Zine Pride Day will hopefully be covered on July 4.

July 7: I’m pretty sure I have a good idea about what a zine distro is, and if not, with all the distros I hope to visit on July 4, I’ll definitely find out then. Work-in-Progress day.

July 8: Another Thursday I hope to be working the afternoon shift. I’ll see if I can score a decent recipe from a zine to try. If not, maybe I’ll just make my own or just go on with the work-in-progress.

July 9: Friday. Goddess forbid my kid catches me on the computer, LOL! So updating my Etsy shop will likely not happen on that day or the next. See July 11.

July 10: I’ll likely be writing messages to zinesters all month long so I don’t know how relevant this is. Especially since this is Shabbat and I rather be sleeping.

July 11: International Zine Day does not apply to me because ALL zines I order are international, so that day is not really special. Instead, I will go to the post office and check updates on prices for shipping internationally. There might have been some changes since Corona and all, and also since the peace agreement with the UAE, I might be able to send zines to that region too. I’ll check the prices and update my Etsy shop accordingly.

July 12: ZineWiki Day! I LOVE ZineWiki, and I was so happy to be able to update my listings once they fixed up the website. I’ll go check it again to see if my listings are still up and running and then I’ll go on with my work-in-progress.

July 13: Zine superstition? LOL! I’m superstitious only about nail clippings (should never be thrown in the garbage and never stepped on, and should always be buried or flushed down the toilet) A zine? Maybe never use it as a placemat for clipping nails on? Hahaha! Work-in-progress.

July 14: ValenZine’s Day. Giving myself some love sounds like a good idea. Shopping at a local office supplies store is always a pleasure for me. I think I’ll drop by Hanan on Yafo street before heading home.

July 15: Oh blessed Thursday mornings! I’ll work on a zine flyer in the morning (thus covering July 17 and free my Sabbath) and post a status for a free zine giveaway on Facebook once I get to work. I’ll also post a scan of my new flyer! If I get my interview answers on that day, I’ll start with my zine layout. My favorite part of zine production!

July 16: See July 1.

July 17: See July 15. I’m thinking of making this Sabbath a Zine Sleep Day. I’ll read a zine before going to bed.

July 18: Zine Trade Day… ok, this will be a nice test to see which of my zinester friends have NOT become stinky anti-Semite goyims. If any of them are reading this, y’all interested in a trade? If not, I was thinking of covering July 24 but instead of learning a new zine skill, I’ll teach my daughter about some zine skills for herself. This day is Tisha Be’Av so anyway, we’ll be both stuck at home with nothing to do. It will be nice to take the time to make some zines with my kid.

July 19: See July 4.

July 20: Complete the sentence “I once read in a zine that…” What an interesting prompt! I’ll have to think about that one. Also, this day is my 15th Aliyahversary! I wonder if I can incorporate IZM with this very special day. Maybe make a mini zine about it?

July 21: Zine Library Day. I wonder if there are any other ones in Israel since the one I found in Tel Aviv a few years ago. I can get in touch with the Bush Collective on Facebook to see if they know of anything. And since July 11 is International Zine Day and doesn’t apply to me, maybe for this day I can switch the “international” with “national” and maybe find out a bit about the seemingly nonexistent zine culture within Israel. Make this Israeli Zine Day!

July 22: Zine YouTube Channels. Thursday morning work-in-progress. Office afternoon shift check out some of the channels they list on Stolen Sharpie Revolution.

July 23: See July 4.

July 24: See July 18. Shabbat va-yinafash.

July 25: I don’t want to send my zine for review. Instead I’ll make this day a general post office day in case I do get some trades and orders. Otherwise, work-in-progress.

July 26: Organize my zine collection. Ever since that same activity on July 25 during IZM 2019, I’ve been pretty consistent about keeping my zine shelf tidy. Maybe I’ll just take a quick “shelfie” and go on with my work-in-progress.

July 27: Request a collab zine. While trying my best to avoid the haters, how about making a zine with someone who definitely loves me and has not yet been infected by hate culture? It so happens that I love this person back even more than I love myself. You guessed it, I’ll make a split-zine with my kid! A double-sided mini could work wonderfully.

July 28: Posting online about my favorite zines is closely related to my feelings about zine reviews (see July 5). So yeah, I think working on my zine will be a better use of my time on that day.

July 29: Take a photo with my zine? Don’t mind if I do! Takes a grand total of 0.26 minutes and leaves me with plenty of time to use my Thursday morning for hauling ass with my zine and hopefully finish it up and send it to print.

July 30: Writing a post on this blog about my IZM 2021 experience. Friday is a low-energy day and a looking-after-my-kid-when-she’s-not-in-camp day. You know I’ll be writing weekly roundup posts about IZM as I’ve been doing in previous years. A final post to see what I managed to accomplish will also be posted, as usual. But I rather write it when I’m in the office and a hell of a lot more focused. So I’ll leave that for August 1.

July 31: HallowZine day. Writing about a zine that was discontinued is the only thing that applies to me as I don’t know any zinesters who passed away. However, this activity is still related to the July 5 prompt and I don’t want to write about that. And anyway, it’s Shabbat. Let me sleep.

I won’t be doing any of the bonuses mostly because of my lack of energy. If I manage to accomplish everything I listed above, I’ll consider that a bonus in itself. I’m very excited for IZM!

Come on, zinesters! What are your plans for IZM 2021?

Peace, love and back to zine production FINALLY!

ZineWriMo or BookReadMo?

When it comes to the struggle between books and zines for me, books usually win. If I have to choose between reading a book or reading/writing a zine, doesn’t matter how inspired I am to write, I would almost always go for the book. Reading a book requires no creative effort, no elaborate struggle to find the right words, no fumbling around with a bunch of art material that needs to be cut, pasted, measured, fixed, decorated… Also, a book is longer and can be enjoyed and savored for a longer time than a zine, the latter which can be read in a single sitting.

However, the current battle of literature I have right now is slightly different because the contending book is not a Stephen King one. If it was Stephen King, there would be no competition. Stephen King books win without even trying. I don’t even try to resist the temptation of reading them because I know it’s a lost cause. But this time, it’s a book by a different author, Dean Koontz. I once read a book of his and enjoyed it quite a bit. I mean, he’s nowhere as good as the King, of course, but still entertaining. So on my birthday, when I found out that King is not releasing any books before March 2021, I had to try and choose a book by a different author, and my husband ordered me a Dean Koontz novel.

Now, the battle is kind of weird. I’m curious to see just how much I will enjoy this book, and I’m really looking forward to start reading it. But what if I don’t start reading it? What if I hold off on it until I make a zine? Will I succeed? Or will the book win over as it always does? Is it worth trying to do them at the same time, like starting the zine, then read a bit from the book, then go back to the zine and back to the book again? I know for a fact that this NEVER works with an SK book, but this one is DK, so maybe…

And as I’m writing this, JUST NOW, I got Sea Green Zines‘ list of prompts for ZineWriMo! I’m so excited and looking forward to it. I miss making zines so much, I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since my last one! Here’s the list.

My will to read a book increased as the book arrived in the mail, and my will to make a zine increased as I got this list. So now the gloves are off. This Reading a Book vs. Making a Zine throwdown ought to be a momentous one.

Peace, love and praying to all the zine gods that there won’t be another lockdown this month!

PS – My personal ZineWriMo list will be a bit different, so stay tuned to this badass Riot Grrrl in Israel blog for my plans for November!

Horror Whore

I love horror too much for my own good. I already knew that. You probably already knew that. But yes, I love the fuck out of horror and if I could love it more, I would.

These past few days, I’ve been in horror bliss. It started last week, when my husband was at some wedding somewhere and I stayed home to watch my kid. My husband is not a big horror freak like me so when he’s out, that’s my horror-movie time. I put my kid to sleep, and the first movie that appeared on the VOD list was Halloween from 2018. I love the Halloween series and I’m pretty sure I watched all of them. I didn’t even need to scroll down to see what other horror options are available, and I set off to watch Michael Myers slashing people up and down and Jamie Lee Curtis being a total fucking badass. The moment the iconic mask made an appearance, my heart rate increased and my smile stretched far and wide.

That’s the horror high. It’s the feeling I get when I know I’m about to get some scary evil shit injected into my bloodstream. The feeling that makes me bloodthirsty for some Hollywood gore. LET THE KILLING BEGIN! Muhahaha!

I got the horror high again when I saw the trailer for In the Tall Grass (a Netflix special by the horror god Stephen King and the dude I think is his son, Joe Hill).

“Yesssss!” I whispered-shrieked in a high pitched voice with the heart-rate rising ever higher.

Then yesterday, my husband and I finally made it to the theaters to watch the second chapter of It. One of the previews was the trailer for Doctor Sleep. Horror high strikes again. Since I already saw that trailer (several times) I recognized it from the very first scene sample.

“Eeek!” I whispered-shrieked again, slapping my husband’s knee with excitement and pointing at the screen. “That’s another Stephen King movie! We’re so going to that!”

And then the movie started, and the horror high lasted the whole way through. With every crescendo of the background orchestra, my heartbeat crescendo’ed right along with it. Every time the music stopped, and you could just feel the creepy creature about to appear out of nowhere when you least expect it, I held my breath, and let it out in a throat-ripping scream as the creature did rear its deformed and decomposed head. And then I would laugh hysterically because, as any horror freak would tell you, these are the moments you wait for. These are the moments you savor. And when they do come, it makes you so happy to feel this intense fear, that you can’t help but laugh. I laugh the same way when I’m on rollercoasters. Horror movies for me are a rollercoaster ride. It definitely did not disappoint. A horrorcoaster it was! Scream after scream.

There are the difficult scenes when a child is hurt or killed. These are the scenes that make me sad. But it’s worth it. Anything that involves Stephen King is worth it.

And of course, I absolutely loved the author’s own cameo in the movie. That made me horror-happy too!

After the movie, I turned to my husband and said “You hardly ever screamed, how come?” He said he shielded his eyes during every scary scene.

“WHAT?!” I said. “You just missed all the best parts of the movie! These are the parts I came to see. That’s the whole purpose of the horror genre – to make you shit your pants.”

I can’t wait for Doctor Sleep. The book was satisfyingly terrifying, and I would love to see if the adaptation does it justice.

Peace, love and I’m only happy when I scream

Negative Creep

Whenever I feel like shit, I usually resort to two things which automatically make me feel better: Music and books.

However, I’ve recently come to realize that both of these can also cause a shitty feeling when they’re associated with such a heavy load of negativity, it hurts my head.

The books I read are all by Stephen King. The guy writes horror like too much of a pro, and his descriptions are brutal. So when he describes the death of a child, or the death of a dog, or the death of a major character, it makes me feel horrible, because he makes it seem all too real.

Then, there’s music. I absolutely LOVE the music I listen to. But sometimes the songs take on a darker tone when I think of the respective artist or band.

• Kurt Cobain is dead, with the shadow of drug abuse and suicide looming above him
• Janis Joplin is dead, also with the shadow of drug addiction and overdose
• Jim Morrison is dead, with the shadow of a lifetime of substance abuse
• Jimi Hendrix is dead, same drug-shadow looms again
• Chuck Schuldiner is dead, with the enormous shadow of cancer looming high and mighty
• Tristessa of Astarte is dead, same gigantic shadow of cancer
• Mia Zapata is dead, with the even more monstrous shadow of brutal rape and murder above her grave
• Decapitated’s drummer is dead and their lead vocalist is a vegetable
• Michael Jackson is also dead, and seems like even after his death, the grim shadow of his alleged child-molestation charges still sticks to him like a leech
• All punk and riot grrrl bands I listen to have broken up, so did Black Sabbath, and so did Arafel
• Arch Enemy sold out
• Phil Anselmo is a white supremacist
• Rammstein are (allegedly) Nazis
• Marilyn Manson’s lost his fucking mind…

Why do my favorite means of escape have to be tainted with so much bullshit? Still, I love all of these artists and their music, and still I love Stephen King’s books. And if I didn’t have that, I might as well go coffin-shopping, because seriously, life without music and books is a fate worse than suffering.

I need to go see Disturbed’s performance in July to hold on to the belief that there are bands out there who have not died, or got sick, or OD’ed, or sold out, or became hateful bastards, or broke up.

And I need to get a new Stephen King book because, well, just because. As if I need a reason to get another King book. His fiction owns my reality, and that’s a fact.

Peace, love and death metal for life

Kingstering

Thanks to my decision to take a short break from zinestering, I’ve had more time to engage in hardcore Stephen King consumption. I finished reading The Outsider, as well as Blaze.

This is my review about The Outsider that I posted on Facebook:

“I just finished reading The Outsider. As are all of Stephen King’s novels, this one is excellent! I love the way he incorporates law, crime, investigation and detective work themes into the story, as well as supernatural elements – an aspect that is just so King.
He also tends to mix themes and events from his different novels in almost all of his books. The best example of that is The Dark Tower series. Every time he does that, in whatever book he writes, it makes me scream with excitement, effectively scaring my husband. The Outsider is no different. He incorporates characters and events from The Hodges Trilogy into the story in a wonderfully seamless way. This is something that only King can pull off so perfectly.”

And this is the one I wrote about Blaze:

“I finished reading Blaze. I found it to be one of King’s most heartbreaking novels. Blaze is a brain-damaged guy who kidnaps a baby. The way the book shifts from Blaze’s troubled childhood, and his present day’s struggles with cons and theft, caused me to feel both confused and devastated because on one hand, my maternal mind was triggered when the baby was snatched, and on the other hand, it was triggered again when I read all the horrors that Blaze went through as a kid. A kidnapper should be the bad guy in the story, I thought, but I couldn’t think of Blaze as such because he was the hero of the story and was not a bad guy at all – the way he took care of the baby and the love he felt for him was obvious and real. After I finished reading it, I felt like crying. I still do. It’s those powerful feelings that King’s writing evokes in me that keep me reading his brilliant novels. Second to none. King forever “

Now, I’m getting ready to set on the full version of The Bachman Books.

Stephen King’s Bachman collection includes The Long Walk, Roadwork, and The Running Man. But I got the original version of this book that also includes Rage, as well as an introduction by the author.

Seeing as it’s four books in one, I guess the publishers had a hard time fitting them all into a book that will not kill the reader’s hands when holding it. So they decided to kill the reader’s eyes instead and make the font super fucking small.

As if having cataract, secondary cataract, eye infections and blepharitis wasn’t enough, I will still read The Bachman Books, small font or not, because this is the sacrifice I’m willing to make for Stephen Fucking King.

The guy is a sheer genius and his books are epic. My bookshelf at home is not big enough to contain the dozens of his books that I own. And I wanna read them all again and again. Vision problems abound, but I shall keep on reading.

Bring on the fishtank glasses!

Peace, love and The Running Man takes The Long Walk on the Roadwork with Rage.

Mother vs. Writer

I am currently reading Stephen King’s On Writing. I never thought I would read that book because I was pretty sure none of it was going to have any zombies or vampires or aliens or ghosts. The reason I finally decided to read it is because Stephen King is a master storyteller no matter what the theme is. And I was right. So far, I had just read the first part, “C.V.”, and I was transported.

As I finished the part, I started thinking about my own experience with writing. Sometimes I look back at my writing life and it feels like I’m looking at someone else’s life. I filled pages and pages, drowning myself in metaphors and similes and tea-refills. I lost track of time. I forgot to eat, sleep and shower, and sometimes even breathe. I would write an essay, then move on to a journal entry, followed by a blog post, and then an article to the entertainment section of the Jerusalem Post. And I would still be left scratching my fingers down to the bone as the writing adrenaline was rushing, and I burned to write something more.

Looking back at these old writings, I marvel at how brilliant it is. I discovered a girl with endless inspiration and hope for a glorious future in writing.

Now I can make excuses about why it hasn’t happened and say something cheesy like “life got in the way” but the honest truth is that I simply don’t want to. I rather spend time with my daughter. The drive and the elation I felt when I was writing pales in comparison to the constant unyielding ecstatic joy I feel when I’m with my daughter. She makes me happy in a way that nothing else can. Even when she cries, even when she refuses to sleep, even when she flails her little hands at my face when I try to change her diaper – my daughter is the light of my life. Even mundane activities that I sometimes complain about, like endless piles of laundry, can make me happier than any journal entry or personal essay can. When I dress my daughter in her fresh new clothes, and see how beautiful she looks in anything she wears, I thank the Goddess for the piles of laundry and wish for more.

Back when I had a constant flow of words pouring out of me at any given time, I was only a writer. I wasn’t a wife and I wasn’t a mother. I changed as a person. My list of priorities has changed. My identities changed. When I added wife and mother to the list, they went right to the top.  While back in the day, my mind was running wild with more ideas for writing, now it is running wild with more ideas for what children books to buy, what toys to get for my daughter, what new food she might like to eat, what new things I should teach her, what I can do to make her life better and happier. Basically, anything that has to do with being a mother is the only thing I am interested in now.

I might still create something or write something here and there (if this blog is any indication). My daughter is a year and a half. She loves books, she loves to draw, she absolutely adores music and dancing. Teaching her about art and writing is definitely something I want to do. So maybe I can lead by example.

Stephen King says that art is a support-system for life. And this was true for me for most of my life. I can safely say that if it wasn’t for my art, my writing, my music and my zines, I would undoubtedly be a maggot-infested, decomp-ridden corpse, six feet under a cold tombstone right now.

But today, it is my daughter that keeps me going. It is the intense desire to see her grow up and learn new things and discover her own unique passion that keeps me scratching my fingers down to the bone with anticipation. Motherhood is an adventure. Any mother would tell you that. But to me, motherhood is, like my art was in years past, a support-system for life.

Peace, love and all writers begin with ABC.

Summer Sweetness

Here is a nice little story that may restore your faith in humankind, just in time for Shavuot.

As some of my followers may know, I’ve recently ordered a Stephen King book from Book Depository. The item was dispatched within three business days, as they promised. They said it would take within 10 business days to make it to its destination, i.e. me.

I waited over two weeks before going to the post office to see what the hell was up. They had no idea.

The following day, I received a message via Facebook from a stranger who said he is trying to track down a person bearing my name and maiden name who lives in Jerusalem because he received a package that was mistakenly delivered to him.

So not only is he not my Facebook friend, he is a complete stranger. And he didn’t simply return the package to the post office as most people do, he actually went out of his way to track me down and deliver the package to its rightful addressee.

This is a big deal. Especially for me because this is a Stephen King book we are talking about here. It is tantamount to sacred scripture. Any other person would have just tossed it, and that would be sacrilege!

So it turned out that he works in the center of town, where I also work. He just dropped by my office to give me my package. The million thank-yous I told him didn’t seem to be doing justice to just how grateful I was. Really, how awesome is that?

To top it off, today is hot as hell. FINALLY! I can do away with the hoodies and the layers and the winter gear, and replace it with kickass tank tops and summer dresses. Not to mention, my baby will stop fussing around when I dress her because I probably just won’t! There is some baby chub that requires some serious smushing. A little pair of shorts or a cute little onesie and finito.

This is the positivity that only sunshine can bring. Say what you want about Israeli heat, blue skies breeds smiles, there is no denying that.

Peace, love and sunscreen

 

 

The King and I

New Stephen King books always make me happy.

I just ordered a copy of The Tommyknockers. No, I know, it’s not a new book, but it’s one I haven’t read yet, so yeah. New.

On May 22, I will buy the new release – The Outsider. And on the day before Halloween this year, I shall drain my Paypal account dry with yet another SK release – Elevation.

Regarding The Tommyknockers, I found it weird that no store on Amazon or top seller on Ebay would ship it to Israel. Even Wordery, a top seller I recently ordered from, and who has shipped a book I bought to Israel, marked The Tommyknockers as not being shipped to Israel.

So being in desperate need of a Stephen King fix, I did a random search on Google and came across Book Depository. How did I not know about this site before? They have a gazillion books, ship from the UK, within 3 business days, FOR FREE, including to Israel.

As I placed my order for Tommyknockers, I also found out they accept Paypal. I was so dumbstruck by this awesome site, I was like “This is too good to be true. What’s the catch?” Well, none so far. I placed my order, got a confirmation number and a receipt. Check in with me in three business days and see if my mailbox contained some SK gold. And if it does, then it’s Book Depository forever!

Peace, love and the very hungry caterpillar.

Keep It Unreal

I read something upsetting and then I get upset. I don’t know when I became so goddamn sensitive. And why. I try to keep a positive mindset but it’s becoming harder and harder to do because I’m surrounded with so much negativity, mainly brought about via social media. Sometimes I consider the option of suspending my Facebook account for a little while so that I can avoid the barrage of negative feed I’m crushed by every day. Maybe I should do that…

Fuck the “if it bleeds, it leads” journalistic standard. I wish it would stop bleeding so much. I wanna read something positive for a change. Something that doesn’t make me want to shut off the world. I wanna read children’s books. Not the ones about a grandmother being devoured by a wolf, and not about a couple of kids shoving a witch into a furnace. Maybe about a baby throwing her toys and playing guitar. Or about a cat befriending a mouse.

Also, I’ve noticed that confusing books do not jive so well with me anymore. I recently got the book Kissing Dead Girls, which I’ve read a few years ago and remembered it being amazing and inspiring. In fact, after the first time I read the book, I was so inspired that I wrote two short poem-style stories using the same style and confusing sentence structure as Daphne Gottlieb uses in her book.

So I finally bought the book and have spent the past two weeks trying to read it. Some of the stories are just as wonderful as I remembered them. But most are just plain confusing. Fragmented sentences, beginning and ending nowhere, the lack of capital letters where they should be, a tone and voice which sound like the ramblings of senility itself, incoherence galore, boring nonsensical bullshit, all served to make me tired and restless at once and eventually I either skipped to the next chapter or just put the book down. Every time I think about resuming reading it, I get tired. Just thinking about it, I get bored out of my fucking mind.

I came up with a theory. The reason I enjoyed this book so much all these years ago was probably because it reflected the confusion I lived on a daily basis. Back then, my life was a mess. Nothing made sense. My life was as fragmented as the sentences in that book, and somehow those fragments seemed to complete me. The fragments fell right into the places where my essence was lacking. But now, my life is complete. I feel so right and organized. Even if my sleep is fragmented, because being the mother of a toddler, it kinda comes with the territory, that is part of my predictable routine. Everything has its rightful place. I’m married to a super awesome guy, I have a brilliant kid, I have a sweet dog, I have a decent job, I have a decent house, I have peace of mind, and I simply don’t want any bloody news piece or any fucking confusing book ruining it for me.

Another theory I came up with was that the first time I read Kissing Dead Girls was before I became exposed to Stephen King. Yes, eventually it all comes down to that. Once I read Duma Key, my whole view of literature drastically changed. I have immense trouble reading books that are not written by King. I think it’s also because I love fiction more than anything because as bloody as it gets, I know it’s not real. Even if Stephen King is such a master storyteller that it seems as if his fiction IS in fact reality, deep down I still know it isn’t. So for me, keeping a positive mindset is totally possible with fiction books.

And so, being bored to tears and utterly frustrated by Kissing Dead Girls, I ordered another fiction book, The Clarity by Keith Thomas. I just got a text message from the post office notifying me that this book I ordered from Germany just arrived. I’m excited by the prospect of escaping into fiction, and even more excited that come May 22, I will score me a brand new Stephen King novel, The Outsider.

You know what? I’ll just go ahead and reclaim “If it bleeds it leads” but add “in fiction” at the end, because in reality it just serves to fuck me up.

Peace, love and fiction forever