Rebecca Jones-Howe's Blog, page 8

EXCERPT: “The Phantom of the Podcast”

Forecasts call for a heat wave this week in Kamloops, which means that there’s no better time to drop a my latest Patreon-exclusive story, “The Phantom of the Podcast”. This month I wrote a great true crime podcast-inspired piece for you all, and it is a fun time for everyone.

Patrons can read “The Phantom of the Podcast” now, while intigued parties can join my Patreon at the $5 Short Stories tier to get access to this and all my other Patreon Stories.

After two and a half years of interviewing hybristophiliacs on his Dear Murderer podcast, paranoid host Mitchell finds himself at odds with his growing fanbase. Then he meets his new guest, Megan, a talented theatre actress who shows him the ropes of exploitation.

THE PHANTOM OF THE PODCAST: An Excerpt

“Dear Mitchell,” I read. “I’ve been a longtime listener of Dear Murderer. I find your interviews thrilling. I feel like you know me. I feel like you’re talking to me. You might get intimate in your line of questioning but it makes me feel put on the spot in the right kind of way. My favourite serial killer is Robert Pickton. I wish I could explain myself to you. All the best, Megan.”

It’s not a real letter.

I wrote it to sound like a real letter, because all the real letters are full of the same thing over and over, women begging me to acknowledge them, to interview them, to make them the next featured guest on the show.

The first season of Dear Murderer featured them. Real women.

They liked Ted Bundy even despite his smugness. They liked Richard Ramirez even though his teeth were nasty. They liked Jeffrey Dahmer even though he exclusively raped and murdered boys. They liked to get detailed, admitting that if they were in Karla Homolka’s shoes that they’d let Paul Bernardo rape their little sister too.

I got a Phantom of the Opera mask for recording, meant to keep my identity a secret, but the women enjoyed it, the mysteriousness, the supposed danger.
I just wanted to know why hybristophilia was a thing but then that thing manifested.

I wanna meet you.

I feel like you know me.

Your voice gives me such a wide-on.

The podcast needed variety, needed depth. I couldn’t talk about Charles Manson anymore. I wrote scripts. I hired actresses. We’d discuss the script and record in a motel room under a non-disclosure agreement. The mask unnerved the actresses. They gave a better performance under pressure, emotion cutting into the words on the page.

I thought the audience would change but it didn’t.

Some of the actresses became fans themselves. They kept my secrets, sent me messages, sent me nudes.

I don’t read many of the comments anymore. I know what they say, what they want. They’re just women climbing up from the depths, hoping to amuse me.
Most nights I spend in front of the computer watching recorded stage plays and theatre actress demo reels. One might say that I stalk actresses now, but I’m just looking for the good ones, the ones who can get raw and mentally exposed. I like it when their voices shake the way I want them to.

I never miss The Vagina Monologues.

The most honest of actresses end up putting on a proper show.

The post EXCERPT: “The Phantom of the Podcast” appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

MOODBOARD: “The Phantom of the Podcast”

I started July with an idea, which is more than I can say for the previous two months of writing. What I lacked was ambition, due to my recent return to work. But hey, I got shit done. Now I’m here in the final week of the month with a story. It’s called “The Phantom of the Podcast” and I think it’s just what summer requires.

I’ll Be Gone in the Dark

It being summer, of course HBO had to toss out a spooky series for me to devour. Not sure if you’ve been watching I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, a six-part documentary series, which follows true crime writer Michelle McNamara’s quest to identify the Golden State Killer.

Based off her book of the same name, the series tracks both the case of the killer, known as the “East Area Rapist” and later on as the “Original Night Stalker”, while also following Michelle’s painful mission to writing her book. It’s an odd mix of tales that weirdly works and has definitely left me creeped out on Sunday nights.

I identified with the details of Michelle’s writing. Funny how one never focuses on how this hobby can have a draining affect on their own life until they see the same struggle in another.

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Inspiration Lurks in Dark Places

Weirdly enough, I’ll Be Gone in the Dark coincided with my new idea of writing a story about a podcaster who interviews women attracted to serial killers, otherwise known as “hypristophiliacs”. I don’t know where this idea came from. It just popped out of nowhere one night at the end of June.

And, well, hey, here we are!

I needed magic and I got a little.

“The Phantom of the Podcast” follows Mitchell, the host of a podcast called “Dear Murderer”. After two and a half seasons of interviewing hybristophiliacs in an attempt to understand them, he finds himself at odds with the ravenous growing fanbase.

The story focuses a bit on “fangirl” culture and the attitudes it perpetuates.

Of course, I watched some Youtube videos on the phenomenon of hypristophilia, which proved informative. BUT then I came across this video that I didn’t realize was made by the man inside the “manosphere” community. He attempted to explain why some women like serial killers but then took his understanding to some very women-hating levels.

He basically just tuned it all down to a woman’s “cave desire” to have a dominant man who can kill threats and provide for her.

It was disgusting.

But also inspiring.

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The Lure of the Podcast

I’ve been wanting to make a n00b podcast for a while now. While still tempted by the idea, I realize that I need some time to cement things. I have a microphone and a very basic understanding of Audacity. I follow Dan Bell on Patreon and he has an exclusive podcast there that’s been a fun listen for me when I get sick of listening to politics 100% of the time.

My podcast will likely be about whatever. Just fun stuff. Stupid stuff. Content for people who actually read my blog, probably. Rants and such. Book reviews? I dunno.

“The Phantom of the Podcast” was just my way of having fun with the idea of making my own podcast. The title is stupid. I know it is. Some of my stories have punny names. A guy once ranted about it in a Goodreads review of Vile Men that amused me.

So here I am, still doing it.

But “The Phantom of the Podcast” makes a couple nods at The Phantom of the Opera, so there. Yesterday I bought a copy of the book, because I am nothing if not dedicated to reading more gothic literature.

I asked Facebook the following:

Is the Phantom of the Podcast a bad name for a short story or do you wanna read it?

The best response came from my pal Joe, who responded:

Both?

It was the right answer. Because this story is dark and horrifying but it’s also just fun, which is kind of what summer requires. Right?

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Wanna read the “Phantom of the Podcast”?

I know you do. And you can! On Monday, July 27th.

Join my Patreon at the $5 Short Story tier for access to “The Phantom of the Podcast”, as well as every other exclusive story that I’ve painstakingly written all year long.

Boom! That’s it.

I’ll see you on Monday, folks!

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IMAGE CREDITS

Mask / Woman Hand / Bottle / Waveform / Ceiling Fan / Microphone / Shadows

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UPDATE: A Swift Return to Sanity?

A couple weeks back I received a phone call from my manager about returning to work. Being the second call of this variety, I realized that, after allowing my parents to watch my kids on occasion and after making a couple thrift store outings for my own sanity, that it was finally time to head back to work.

On my first day I walked to work, which was once an excursion that I quite enjoyed for the sake of people able to listen to music and ponder over my current short story and to take my classic look over the city. (It’s the featured photo of this blog and one of the best parts about walking to work.)

I now have two shifts tucked under my belt.

My feet ache.

My shins scream in splints.

The muscles in my upper back made themselves known to me.

I haven’t done ANYTHING in 15 months and now I am dying.

Roller Skating

Despite going back to work, I do plan on making the most of my summer. My sister and my daughter and I took up roller skating. It was a real bitch to find skates because every shop is nearly sold out. Seems a lot of people wanna try skating during COVID. I even bought a pair that was too big that you now can buy off me if you so choose.

The skating definitely worked my inner thighs a bit, but thankfully inner thigh pain is a pain that I’m now used to, because squats were about the only exercise I ever actually did during quarantine. Hopefully I can manage to find enough time to get out and practice more, because skating is a nice low-impact activity that is both socially engaging and very enjoyable and freeing.

Now, whenever I see a big open span of smooth pavement, all I want to do is skate down it. The obsession has begun, and I love that the roller skating community seems to mainly consist of diverse, positive and encouraging women.

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Jul 4, 2020 at 10:12pm PDT

Patreon

Patreon recently added the complication of taxes into their payment system, which I think is the correct thing to do. But damn if that last notice of payment wasn’t depressing.

The amount of time I’m putting into my Patreon stories can pretty much buy me a bottle of wine a month. Not that planned on supporting my family on Patreon, but sometimes seeing the profit can be demoralizing. That all said, I do enjoy the pressure of writing these stories. I enjoy being forced to have to produce content, and while my last effort took a bit of time, I am currently working on a new true crime-inspired short story that proves itself more of an enjoyable write.

Poshmark

I also used some of my spare time to start selling some of my clothes on Poshmark. I’d been vowing to do this for nearly a year now. My closet brimmed with clothes that begged to be worn again. Some were too big. Some I bought on a massive shopping spree. All of them begged to see the light of day instead of shoved into the furthest depths of my closet.

If you’re interested and you live in Canada (no cross-border shipping, yo!), you can shop my Poshmark closet now. If you’re not on Poshmark, you can join with my referral link and get $15 to purchase somebody else’s clothes. I’ve been using Poshmark to buy clothing ever since I made a vow to quit fast fashion and it’s been a great place for me to get some of my favourite non-ethically made clothes guilt-free.

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My “NeW nOrMaL”

I hate the above term now. Remember when “new normal” was this great new phrase that felt so perfect? Venturing out of the house and taking the bus this week proved different. I’m in British Columbia, where the curve drops a little. We’re in the third phase of our pandemic. We can travel. Restaurants and stores opened with precautions.

Masks are encouraged.

I didn’t wear one at first but quickly followed suit. They’re annoying but I can handle it. I miss wearing lipstick but it’s also nice to not worry about retouching it all day long.

Nobody wants to go back to work, but hey, I get to talk to adults again! I get paid paid to take my 20,000 steps a day again! Only 50 people can be in the store at any given period of time so I can’t get overwhelmed with retail stress!

Summer will be good.

My daughter, however, goes to school in the fall. Full-day kindergarten. I plan on going part-time. So we shall see how that goes.

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EXCERPT: “Things That Burn”

Most of June passed before I managed to pen my Patreon story. But it’s out now. It’s called “Things That Burn” and once again I’m offering a little excerpt for you non-Patrons.

Patreon subscribers can access the full story on the website or via Patreon.

If you’re not a subscriber, you can read more and get access to all of my Patreon Stories by joining my Patreon at the $5 Short Stories tier.

THINGS THAT BURN: An Excerpt

When Grad 2020 is cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, a shy young man meets up with his high school love interest Olivia, a budding socialist who aids in his introduction to the world they’re both about to set foot in.

We meet on the old paved pathway tucked behind the 7-11. The path leads down to the hiking trails that once dominated the hillside before the suburbs crept in. People still use the trails but the paved path hasn’t exactly held to the test of time. The cement’s filled with cracks and weeds, neglected by the city to better things, modern things like water park or the baseball diamonds or the recreation centre where I spent most of my high school years drinking behind.

Every time I told my parents I was taking the dog for a walk, it’s where I’ve gone.

Now, Badgley pulls me along. He’s excited, his tail wagging, his gait quick. He sniffs at the cracks in the pavement, dragging me toward the graffiti-covered bench in the clearing. He treads into a mass of dandelions. The white seeds scatter in the breeze and I pull my phone from my pocket to check the time.

I haven’t seen Olivia since school was cancelled. She felt like a ghost ever since that afternoon she crept into the dark of the computer lab while I was formatting the yearbook. Her orange nails dug into my shoulders.

“I know the school didn’t approve of my grad statement,” she whispered. “You should put it in anyway.”

Let’s start a motherfucking riot!

I told her I couldn’t but she kissed me anyway, the hum of the computers dulling the sound of our lips. We kissed until the bell rang.

Then school was cancelled. No finals. No grad. No chance to speak to her. All she had for social media was her Instagram page full of guillotine pictures and socialist memes. Her avatar was a picture of a marigold. She’d held a bouquet of them in lieu of roses for her grad photo.

It was all I could remember of her until she slid into my DMs.

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MOODBOARD: “Things That Burn”

I struggled to write this month’s Patreon story. Writer’s block kept me in a choke hold. I tried a ton of ideas. Even once an idea latched to my skull, I lacked the essential desire to write it. But write I did, eventually.

Back in May, I really tried to write this sexy murder hornet erotica horror. I wanted it to be fun and different, but then, well, more of 2020 happened and totally killed my mood. So I forced myself to write several other stories that went nowhere. I even deleted the first draft of the sexy murder hornet erotica by accident and had no way of retrieving it.

Nevertheless, I have a damn story for you. It might be June 29th but I brought you what I promised. This month’s VERY LATE STORY is called “Things That Burn” and it’s a somewhat hopeful doomsday horror dedicated to all you 2020 Grads.

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Some Fucking Problems

I took it upon myself a while back to try to write about current events. Mainly COVID-related, but then some darker stuff took place. Remember April when the threat of murder hornets was a thing? I mean, it’s been a while since then, but back then I felt like I had a hold of things.

Like many, I found myself glued to live coverage of the protests via Unicorn Riot. They interviewed plenty of protesters on the ground, and , honestly, a LOT of those people talking were black Gen Z kids. And damn if I wasn’t impressed.

I needed a few days to work though my feelings. I watched and listened and came way with fresh perspective. Part of me wanted to put those feelings into fiction. I find that can often be problematic when writing about current events. Sometimes that raw state needs time to heal before fiction can really prove itself an effective tool.

I’m bi-racial. Half Filipino, but I pass for white. I haven’t exactly lived the experience of a person of colour, and specifically a person of colour in America. Canada isn’t without its issues with racism, but being a Canadian and watching America go down in flames feels pretty detached at times.

Fiction should be an escape, not a set of confines.

But, this one photo of a black 2020 graduate on the flaming streets of Minneapolis really struck a chord with me.

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A Bleak Future?

“Things That Burn” is simply about the world that 2020 grads are coming of age into. I wonder how terrifying that must be. I graduated in 2005 as a spoiled elder Millennial. People told me that if I went to college and worked hard that life would be fucking great.

I took a gap year and then went into an Arts program with the intent of getting a Journalism degree so I could write for the local paper. And, well, writing fiction held more of an allure to me. I quit school to work retail full time and pursue my writing career. Loving what I did mattered more to me than money.

And for a Millennial, I am doing okay. I came out of school without student debt. My husband and married and asked for money in lieu of fancy gifts. We saved a down payment and live in a townhouse. It’s not a detached nice house with a fancy fence or a pool or even air conditioning, but we own a house, which is still a lot better than most Millennials have.

I remember back in 2011 or so when my husband and I got our first tax return as a married couple and we found ourselves in the lower middle class tax bracket and I joked (seriously) to my Boomer coworker about how this was the best life would get for us.

She laughed and told me how sad that was.

And yes, it’s totally sad. Back in the day a Boomer could likely support their own family with one full-time income. Everything blows, and yes, my political views have changed and my sadness has shifted to anger. I’m not the only one who feels this way either. Plenty of people do.

So Gen Z? They’re digital natives. They’re the smartest generation yet. They know all the lies and they’re the ones who are out there, taking to the streets with masks, demanding change.

“Things That Burn” is about a pair of 2020 graduates coming to terms with the world they’re set to walk into.

Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

“Things That Burn” is about a 2020 graduate to takes his dog for a walk during quarantine to hang out with a rebel socialist classmate he’s taken a liking to.

I suppose a bit of it was inspired by my own experience hanging out with my high school grad date after school ended, wherein we both kind of wanted to get to know each other better but were too damn shy to even do it.

Unlike my experience, this one does get a bit sexy, but then a strange sound starts calling from the sky, and things get a little tense.

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Setting

“Things That Burn” takes place on a series of hiking trails between the suburbs in Kamloops. I wanted to head out there in June to get a little more inspiration. Oddly enough, the rain took to this semi-arid desert in true “The Red House” style, which would normally inspire me. But it’s been

Writing proved extremely tough this month. Typically summers here get brutal with sun and heat and awfulness, which makes for horrible forest fire seasons. Climate change obviously worsened much of the threat. 2017 proved particularly bad for B.C. forest fires, so perhaps the rain this year will prevent the sky from getting too smokey.

Forest fires really give me anxiety every year. I worry about my house catching aflame and losing everything. This is the world we live in now and it sucks. Everything sucks. And I suppose that’s inspiration, is it not?

MOAR Writer’s Block

Quite frankly, I struggled this month. This story isn’t my best. BUT, I like “Things That Burn”. I blended some old with some new. I went back to my teenage roots. Sometimes it’s kind of nice to strip everything down to that “coming of age” level and recharged those youthful emotions.

I often find that writer’s block sets me back to base level writing. Not to say that “Things that Burn” is poorly written, but I enjoy writing from a teenage perspective, much like I did with “White Rabbit”.

Long story short, this struggle has at least proved that I could produce something.

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Want to read “Things That Burn”?

Fingers crossed because I plan on posting it to Patreon before the month is up.

Join my Patreon now at the $5 Short Stories tier to access all the stories I’ve written this year thus far.

The ebook copy will likely take me a couple more days to format but I WILL have the online copy up on the Patreon Stories section of the site when it goes live.

IMAGE CREDITS

Bench / Cracked Cement / Grass / Fire / Dog / Boy in Mask / Girl / Marigold

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Joining the antiMLM Community

A while back, I wrote a post about the 3 times I was pitched to join an MLM. That post received some interesting responses, and I gotta say that some of you might be great at participating in AntiMLM the community. Want to know more?

The antiMLM movement is group of like-minded people (both skeptics and ex-MLM members) who share their perspective on the dangerous aspects of the MLM business model. In recent months I have discovered a wealth of knowledge and stories from the folks in the antiMLM community. They’re fun and talented real women who want to engage in legit community (as opposed to just selling your wraps that supposedly give you thigh gap).

Now, in order to give you a better idea of what joining the antiMLM community is like, allow me to share my story.

Taking That MLM Bait

You’re scrolling through your Facebook and you notice a post from one of your friends that seems…odd. It’s not what they normally post. Maybe it’s a selfie of with a shake (because it’s always a selfie with a shake.) Maybe it’s an inspirational quote. Perhaps it’s a product offer. Or they’re looking for product testers. You’re confused. But you keep scrolling.

Then, you find another post. And another! Gasp! What is happening? Not wanting to dip a toe in unknown waters, you read the comments hoping for answers. “What’s this about?” they ask

What’s the response from your friend?

It’s always: I’ll PM you!

Why?! Why is it so secret?! Clearly your friend is working for some kind of company, but what the hell company is it? What are they doing? What are they selling? You want to ask, but you don’t want things to get all Resident Evil 4 merchant levels of creepy:

As the months progress, your friend posts more confusing content. Their lifestyle becomes fused with this weird company, these strange products. Emojis become a part of their daily posts. They’re happy, smiling. Using numerous hashtags. They are, admittedly, THEIR BEST SELF.

And then they ask, “WANT TO JOIN ME?”

Things must be going well for them, right? Your friend wouldn’t be posting this stuff for no reason, right?

Questioning That Intriguing Lifestyle

Truth be told, I have a hard time inquiring about things. I hate being put into a spot, especially when it comes to something that triggers my skepticism. No way in hell would I ever go in blind. I want to go in prepared.

So when a friend does an instant personality change, I sit back and wonder what the deal is. And you know, I’m not going to directly make the MLM = cult analogy (guess I just did!) because I’ve got a handful of friends on my Facebook who are in MLM’s and do manage to keep their feeds balanced. Honestly, though? The MLM stuff tends to stick out.

But what about those people you don’t know? The higher up MLM consultants post pictures of them drinking shakes in fancy kitchens, attending luxury cruises, or buying a white Mercedes. What about those people? cc

I want to know. I MUST know. Is the direct sales business really so easy? Who doesn’t want a lifestyle wherein they can stay at home? I mean, this is how so many young mothers (women jUsT lIkE mE!) get suckered into joining MLM’s.

Young mothers and debt-ridden college students with debt are prime targets of MLMs. It’s so easy to lure people in with the idea of baking an extra income made off of “working on your phone”. A common promise is the ability to raise your own kids while working your own business from home.

Doing My Own Research

When faced with criticism, plenty of MLM consultants urge you to do your own research to figure out what works for you.

The research doesn’t take long to do, honestly.

It’s a well-known statistic that 99% of all MLM distributors lose money. Some MLM’s present income disclosure statements, which do plainly show you an accurate example of what commissions a consultant could potentially make in each tier. The problem with these statements is that they don’t account for money sunk into the business (in the form of buying inventory, hosting parties, etc). You know, profit.

But what about all those women who appear to be doing so well? Faking it is easy, guys. We live in a capitalist society, where you can buy anything. You can buy Instagram followers. You can buy higher Google rankings, which Monat seems to have done.

In other words, it’s pretend support. Most MLM-related content receives little engagement, and from what I’ve seen, what little engagement a post does receive appears to be from from other MLM consultants within the company. It’s the community of support” they always talk about, which is all well and good until you realize that this “community” is really a bunch of people operating the exact same business in an over-saturated market.

Long story short, after doing my research, the thought of joining an MLM gets some hardcore cringe from me.

I already peddle my own writing. I believe in my writing and it doesn’t cost me to sell it. Not to mention, I have something for everyone! Want some modern gothic erotic horror? Here’s a literary urban dead mall story about how hard modern life is. Better yet, seeing that you’re reading about MLMs, might I interest you in an MLM-inspired horror story?

I got you, readers. I have exactly what you need.

But, the Products!11!11!!!!

MLM’s are about shilling products. Many distributors make the claim that network marking is simply just “word-of-mouth”. And sure, you could say that, but there is a difference between sharing a product you like and shilling a product for profit. And I hate that this needs to be said, but if one day my best friend started swooning about how amazing a company’s products were, I wouldn’t buy it.

Finding quality products that work for you takes time. No one product is going to work magic on everyone. The internet exists. Google exists. If I’m searching for the ideal product, I can just search for it and a review will pop up. A YouTube video will pop up. And I’m sorry, but I’m gonna trust that beauty YouTuber’s opinion on X Brand’s mascara over that low-resolution Quad Spider Lash Mascara picture you stole from Google Images.

Like, I understand that network marketing can be perceived as “word of mouth”, but as a paid consultant (who only gets commission on products sold), your bias kind of shows when you’re hawking products left and right. Don’t you use other products from other brands AT ALL?

Like, we’re headed into some used car salesman territory, are you not?

[image error]Source: reddit.com/antiMLM

Every company makes a couple good things, a couple mediocre things, a few bad things. Tell me something shitty about a handful of your MLM products and maaaaaaaybe I’ll give your spiel a listen. Otherwise, you’re sending me into joining the antiMLM community in one pitch.

It’s that lack of honesty that kills me.

But what About Affiliate Marketing, Rebecca?

To be honest, I hate affiliate marketing almost as much as I hate MLMs. I feel like it’s ruined the integrity of blogging. I miss old school blogging. Blogs these days are pretty much just machines for shilling out products to make ad revenue. It’s not honest. It’s greedy and it’s frustrating. Network marking is just an entire next level of dishonesty, and it’s a major part of why I drove me into joining the antiMLM side of this debate.

And another thing!

MLMs are hardly modern. Modern shopping is about ease, and the whole idea of having to buy product from a third party instead of just going to the drugstore or buying it off my Sephora app doesn’t seem all that modern.

This is just old-fashioned shit, man. And while I do love my retro vintage aesthetic, I’m not a complete anachronism when it comes to my shopping habits.

#antiMLM it is!

So here I am, feet firmly planted. My research has led me into the arms of the #antiMLM community. In researching for March’s Patreon story, Spellbound, I did a ton of research and found some very engaging content on the subject of MLM’s. The community is full of smart and creative people with YouTube channels and gripping blogs and funny Instagram pages and great podcasts, too!

Wanna join the AntiMLM community? Got any antiMLM stories to tell? Have you ever been a part of one or (like me) were you always a skeptic? What led you down the antiMLM path?

What are you waiting for? Consider joining the antiMLM community now!

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A post shared by The MLM Boss Babe (@themlmbossbabe) on Nov 10, 2019 at 5:55pm PST

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A List of My 2020 Side-Effects

I’ve been a bit foggy here on the blog. Long story short, I took a week off writing to work on pitching my debut novel, The View From the Basement, to some agents. Two of those agents requested to read my manuscript. Good things, right? Great things! Progress! The downside, however, is that I sacrificed some of my Patreon story-crafting time to do my queries and well, now it’s June.

I have no story to share. And I’m sorry. It’s not just the writing that’s been tough. I’ve been struggling to get my ideas into shape. Last week and the riots in response to the murder of George Floyd proved to be too much of an emotional distraction.

Black Lives Matter, just in case anyone thought I felt otherwise.

Nevertheless, I gave up on the story I was working on and started a new one. This new one proves itself to be one worth finishing. It’s just taking some time because of all the heavy stuff. I really am doing my best to prevent the politics from bleeding into my work but it’s TOUGH when you’re a political person to begin with.

Last night I tried giving myself a break by NOT writing at all. I curled up on the couch with a good book, started falling asleep, but well, all my 2020 side-effects started kicking up a storm again.

Insomnia

Insomnia plagued me about a month ago. I relented and gave myself a couple days off writing. I went to bed earlier.

But now I’m back to reading before bed (at a more sensible hour, at least in terms of a writer), nearly falling asleep, and then getting triggered by a thought of the door not being locked, or a flashback from high school, or the neighbour coughing their lungs out from their rank-ass weed, and it’s BOOM, instant awake time until at least 3:30AM.

Stress Sweats

A few times every day I break into horrendous heat spells. I never get actually sweaty, but my body feels overheated, like it’s giving me a sneak peek to what menopause is gonna feel like.

I keep thinking that I’m coming down with coronavirus.

Usually these hot spells plague me at night. I end up kicking my blankets off and feeling less secure (because I’m one of those heavy blanket people). I do also get the sweats during stressful mornings and I’m just standing in the kitchen trying to feed my son while also listening to the news while also repeatedly checking my email to see if one of the literary agents has responded.

Dehydration

I try to drink a reasonable amount of water during the day, but it’s tough when I’m drinking so much coffee to balance out the effects of the insomnia + stress sweat situation.

Fogginess

Every day my thumb scrolls along my Twitter feed. Every day new videos begged to be watched. Police violence and outrage take over.

In the meantime, my husband and I have a masssssssssssive siding project we have to pay for. He’s working on figuring it out and explaining all the financial stuff to me and I literally can’t. I can’t. I can’t think. I can’t handle it.

Between the kids and the news and me living in my skull trying to wrestle a story onto a blank page, I am literally everywhere all at once and I can’t focus on ANYTHING.

The Most Garbage Diet of All Time

I’m really trying to get back to my keto diet because my blood sugars were all the fuck over the place last month. Horrible. Awful. My body’s been through the ringer and I really just want to get some stability back, which is difficult because I love chips too much when I feel like garbage.

I also cut out drinking again and need SOMETHING to keep me happy.

Sometimes I eat dark chocolate (85%) but I’ve eaten enough to disrupt my digestive system. Sometimes I put peanut butter on it. Sometimes I just put the peanut butter on a spoon.

Either way, I think my blood sugars are better, but I never make a proper dinner anymore. My husband works like 17 hour days so I function like a single mom. I’m always too exhausted.

Acne

I’ve seen other people over 30 complain about acne. And I know that it’s an adult thing. I thought for a while that it was because I quit breastfeeding my son because the hormones REALLY took their toll on my a couple weeks ago when I broke out into both acne and got myself a really nasty cold sore at the same time.

My ache is all over my mouth and chin, which is probably a result of the dehydration + shitty food combo, but damn. This is partly why I’m a hermit.

Bad Brows

On the days that I really feel like garbage, I put on makeup just to feel sort of normal, like I have something to get ready for. Usually I still stay within the confines of my yard, though.

That being said, I barely ever pluck my eyebrows. I barely ever look at myself in the mirror.

I put on makeup to take the selfie for this post. My son was screaming on the floor while I did it, but honestly, my vapid millennial soul needed a little fucking ME time for once.

Coping Mechanisms

All I have right now is my writing. It’s causing me as much stress as it is relieving things, but it’s the best I’ve got. Thankfully, all the work I did on on my beloved book seems to be paying off. I will keep obsessively checking my inbox while also hopefully churning out work, putting myself elsewhere while my family sleeps upstairs.

To my Patrons, I WILL be writing you a story. I’m going to try my damnedest here but if I fail, I do have a story waiting in the wings that I planned on submitting but I’ll treat you to it.

I really want to distance myself from the political stuff so I’m trying to channel some grad nostalgia with my current WIP. I gotta ask, what was your grad like? Did you look forward to the future? Did you have big plans? Were you just stoked to be out of school?

I keep thinking about what the 2020 grads are thinking right now. Like…moving into this current reality? Is it a real punch to the face or is there a light at the end of the tunnel?

I keep seeing young Gen-Z people at the forefront of the protest videos online. I just want to say that I find this moving. Your words have driven me to tears. You’ve inspired me. If we can pull through and band together, Gen-Z will bring us a promising future.

And speaking of coping mechanisms, go read my free hot pandemic story, “Coping Mechanisms” now!

What are YOUR 2020 side-effects?

Okay, time to vent. What anxiety are you dealing with? How are you coping? Are you even bothering to improve yourself or are you just cruising it out at this point?

The post A List of My 2020 Side-Effects appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

Interview w/Kirsten McNeill

Hey friends, it’s been a bit of a while. As with most, I’ve fallen behind on a few things. BUT, all is not lost because I’ve taken the last week to give my manuscript another line-edit before finally sending it out to some literary agents.

And yes, I got some bites!

More to come, but in the meantime you can read this interview I recently did with writer and editor, Kirsten McNeill, wherein I discuss my current writing endeavous, my small press experience, my BIG plans for The View From the Basement and my current Patreon mission.

READ MY INTERVIEW WITH KIRSTEN

The post Interview w/Kirsten McNeill appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

FALLEN HEARTS: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

Goodness gracious, it’s time to review Fallen Hearts, the pivotal third book in the Casteel series by V.C. Andrews! This book actually is quite pivotal in that it’s the first book to be ghostwritten by Andrew Neiderman. To be honest, after churning through the Shooting Stars series and the Cutler series, I was kind of excited to get back to some plain and simple Neiderman prose. But does Neiderman hold a candle to V.C. Andrews’ original voice? Let’s take a skeptical dive into Fallen Hearts in this “Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews” Review.

PROUD AND BEAUTIFUL, HEAVEN CAME BACK TO THE HILLS — TO RISE AT LAST ABOVE HER FAMILY’S SHAME!

As Logan’s bride, she would savor now the love she had sought for so long. And free from her father’s clutches, she would live again in her backwoods town, a respected teacher and cherished wife. But after a wedding trip to Boston’s Farthinggale Manor and a lavish, elegant party, Heaven and Logan are persuaded to stay…lured by Tony Tatterton’s guile to live amidst the Tatterton wealth and privilege. Then the ghosts of Heaven’s past rise up once more, writhing around her fragile happiness…threatening her precious love with scandal and jealousy, sinister passions and dangerous dreams!

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About Fallen Hearts

One aspect that I find fascinating about V.C. Andrews is the amount of uncertainty behind her work. She kept a lot of things very secretive, including her work. Following the success of Dark Angel in 1986, Pocket Books, signed a contract with Andrews to publish a sequel in October of 1987. Nobody was aware that V.C. Andrews had breast cancer. She signed the contract but her agent never received it until after her death in late 1986.

Following her death, the Andrews family collected Virgina’s notes. (She reportedly had outlines for another whopping 63 novels). Her editor made an attempt to ghostwrite the Dark Angel sequel but was unable to complete it. The Andrews estate then gave Andrew Neiderman the opportunity to write the novel based off of the notes that Virginia had left behind.

Fallen Hearts was published in August of 1988. The Andrews family claimed that Virginia’s outlines were completed manuscripts. They promised that fans had many more V.C. Andrews books to look forward to, when in reality they had hired Neiderman to emulate Andrews with her notes.

Eventually, the estate admitted the truth in an open letter in 1987. Its first appearance in a V.C. Andrews book was in Dawn in 1990. Neiderman’s status as the ghostwriter remained a secret for a few years, though the secret was ultimately unearthed in 1993.

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My Copy of Fallen Hearts

I ordered two copies of Fallen Hearts off of ThriftBooks. Neither one was a stepback edition, though I did manage to locate a first edition stepback copy at my local thrift store. It isn’t in the best of shape but it did the job for reading purposes.

Now, I do love the cover design of Fallen Hearts. The illustration of the bleeding heart plant is beautiful and I love that the cutout is one of the flowers. You know what I hate, though? I hate that Heaven isn’t featured in the stepback. Call me petty, but I grew up with the 90s Andrews books, which featured their beautiful female protagonists in all their Mary Sue glory. I hated looking at this book, only to wonder: WHO IS THIS STUPID KID?!

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I didn’t figure it out until about a quarter way into the book. The kid is Heaven’s half-brother, Drake, who I completely forgot about from Dark Angel. An older Tony Tatterton sits behind Drake. Behind him (right to left) stands our newly-blonde protagonist, Heaven, our favourite POS Logan, and the best evil sister ever, Fanny.

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Fallen Hearts: The Grown-Ass Review

I suppose the big question with this book is whether or not Neiderman’s prose holds a candle to Andrews’. Most die-hard V.C. Andrews fans seem to hate Neiderman’s writing. Some swear by the original 7 books penned by Andrews herself and that’s completely fine.

Admittedly, I didn’t enjoy Heaven so much upon first read, but once I got to penning my review, I thought long and hard about what V.C. Andrews was successful at, which was telling dark stories for women. She knew what we all wanted and she wrote it without shame. Of specific note is Heaven’s need for her father’s love and her mistake of replacing it with Cal Dennison’s lust. Andrews also did a hell of a job creating Kitty Dennison, the truest V.C. Andrews villian who readers can actually sympathize with to some degree.

Neiderman writes better than Andrews. He gets mockingly purple with his prose but his writing is engaging and keeps me invested. I struggled from time to time with Andrews’ drifting narrative, BUT she at least had the heart. I read Neiderman and his characters always feel flat and bland and forced to do what they do.

So I don’t know. I love and hate things about both writers. Neiderman-penned books are easier reads, but I appreciate Andrews for putting her mind out there. I respect her for that. She told some crazy stories and that’s really all a writer needs to do.

So let’s get to those V.C. Andrews tropes!

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An Innocent & Pretty, Yet Completely Naive Female Protagonist

Heaven is back, bitches, and she starts this book out writing a sad letter to Luke (who isn’t actually her real dad) asking him to walk her down the aisle when she marries Logan, because out of all the POS losers in the world, she had to pick her childhood sweetheart, Logan Effin’ Stonewall.

It’s okay, because she takes the time to explain herself:

Logan had been there from the day I returned to Winnerow. He had been there through the terrible days after Tom’s death, while Pa was in the hospital. He had been there after Pa had returned with Stacie and little Drake to his own home in Georgia. He had been there when Grandpa died, leaving me alone in the cabin of my childhood, now rebuilt and refurbished into a cozy home. He had been there on the first day I began teaching my dear students at the Winnerow Grammar School. I laughed to myself now, recalling that first day, getting ready to test my competence, to see if I really could be the teacher I’d always dreamed of being.

page 3

So yeah, she’s naive AF. At least V.C. Andrews made her hate him on and off. Neiderman’s Heaven is 100% devoted to this loser, and just you wait, because his out-losers himself like 100 times over.

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A Rags to Riches Plot

Luke Casteel declines Heaven’s request, leaving Heaven to walk down the aisle by herself. Heaven and Logan then venture to Boston to have a grand reception at Farthingale Manor, where Jillian makes her reappearance in full clown makeup, convinced that she’s marrying Tony all over again. Tony brushes her off, clearly, because now Jillian’s simply a plot device instead of a cool female character to hate, but we’ll get there soon.

Taking Logan under his wing, Tony convinces the newlyweds to spend the entirety of the honeymoon. Heaven wants to bone, but Tony lures Logan down the rabbit hole that is the Tatterton Toy empire. Logan laps it up and decides that he and Heaven should move into the empty master suite of the manor, which Tony also conveniently just had redecorated.

Heaven’s pissed but Logan shares his idea of opening up a Tatterton Toy factory in Winnerow, where they will get a bunch of artisan wood-carving old folks to carve fancy handmade toys for a giant coorporation to profit off of.

Exploitation! Profit! Logan making a name for himself!

Heaven gives in.

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A Vivid Gothic Setting

Much like Dark Angel, we spend this book travelling back and forth between Farthington Manor and The Willies. Farthy remains as it always has, though we do get one new setting in the suite Tony’s had refinished. It’s not goth, but it’s def got some hardcore 80’s interior decor.

Even the oversized king-size bed looked lost in the enormous room, the floors of which were covered with a thick, beige carpet so soft to the step that it felt as though I were walking over marshmallows. The windows on either side of the bed had been redesigned, making them longer and wider, thus providing the room with a great deal of sunlight and making it look bright and lively.

The light oak posts of the bed with their hand-carved thread rose to support a milk-white and apricot canopy. There was a matching bedspread with frilly edges, and rust-colored throw pillows had been placed at the center.

page 58

And here’s the dang bathroom:

The fixtures were modern and plush, with the whirlpool tub set in a caramel-tinted tile floor. All the knobs and faucets were gold places. There were mirrors everywhere, which made the bathroom look larger than it was, although it was, in and of itself, one of the largest bathrooms I had ever seen.

page 59

Heaven and Logan also buy themselves an old estate in The Willies, known as the Hasbrouck House, owned by Anthony Hasbrouck who used to mock the Casteels for being poor. Broke and forced to sell his home, he gives Heaven and Logan a tour. Heaven takes this opportunity to turn the tables in true class-traitor style:

“If we take this house, ” I whispered loudly enough for Mr. Hasbrouck to hear, “we’re going to have to have the whole place redecorated. It’s just been allowed to fall to pieces.” I enjoyed going on and on about how much more glorious his house would become in my care, how many more rugs there would have to be, how the old kitchen wouldn’t do at all. I rarely enjoyed flaunting my wealth, but with people like Mr. Hasbrouck, people who had looked down on us Casteels, who had chased my lovely Tom away from his dreams, I truly did enjoy it.”

page 223

Don’t make this about your brother, Heaven. Get a therapist.

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A Tragic Death

Heaven finds herself drawn to the newly maddened Jillian. She gets upset with Tony for not paying enough attention to her, but Tony’s pretty much like, “I gOt HeR a CaReGiVeR, wHaT mOrE dO yOu wAnT?”

Then, one day, Jillian snaps out of her madness and tells Heaven that she feels responsible for Troy’s death. Why? Because Troy rode her horse into the ocean.

“My horse, the horse no one but I could ride. And so, it was my fault. Don’t you see? My fault,” she repeated, waving her handkerchief at me and turning back to the window. “And now they’re all coming back to haunt me.”

page 96

Heaven worries about Jillian’s mental state, but then she starts to hear the piano playing in the manor at night. She hears footsteps in her room. Later, she retraces her old path through the hedgemaze to Troy’s cabin. She enters to find it still in use, and believes that Tony hired a new toy maker to work in Troy’s place. Then she finds the secret tunnel open and she follows it down to find TROY.

They bone it up real good and spend several pages fawning over each other. Troy goes full on mopey and admits to stalking Heaven before ultimately running away forever. Then Heaven discovers that…

SHE’S PREGNANT!












BUT IS IT LOGAN’S BABY OR TROY’S? WHOAMG!

So this is sort of a death, right? It’s okay if it’s not because then JILLIAN DIES.

Tony handles it fine, but then does a total 180 the next morning

Then, Heaven receives notices of Luke Casteel‘s death in a car accident, and honestly, this death matters more than poor old Jillian’s. Luke’s wife Stacey also dies, and Heaven goes to take custody of their son and her half-brother (but not really her half brother), Drake.

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A Beloved Doting Paternal Figure

During the custody process, Heaven discovers that it was Tony who sold Luke the circus in the first place. Heaven sleuths her way through Tony’s office to find a folder with her name on it. Inside she finds a contract that Luke signed, promising never to speak to Heaven again in exchange for the circus. Heaven confronts Tony about this revelation, and he’s pretty much just like, “i’M sOrRy, i ToTaLlY fOrGoT i DiD tHiS! pLeAsE fOrGiVe Me, fOr I aM sTiLl SaD aBoUt My WiFe I dIdn’T gIvE a ShIt AbOuT uNtIl iT wAs eMoTiOnAlLy CoNvEnIeNT!”

Like, there are some weird Daddy issues here. Like Heaven’s bio-dad is a rapist pedophile to prevented Heaven’s adopted dad from having a meaningful relationship with her AFTER he sold her to a jealous woman he rebound-boned after Heaven’s birth-mother died giving birth to her.

In Heaven’s words:

“Yes, Luke was just as horrible and as guilty for agreeing to your contract, but he wanted his precious circus so much, he was willing to sell any love he might have possessed for me. He wasn’t my real father and he knew it.

“But you,” I said, pointing my finger at him. “To make such an offer, to appeal to his greed, to his passions… you’re like… you’re like the Devil.”

page 280

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Incest!

After Jillian’s death, Tony turns into an emotional rapist mess. All of this underhanded methods of controlling Heaven come to light but they’re hardly worth mentioning because they’re of little consequence. Every time Heaven confronts him he puts on his sob story face and relents that he’s messed up because his precious Jillian died.

In the night, he bursts into her room, ultra wasted.

The room exploded with brightness. I covered my eyes and when I took my hands from them, I saw him approaching, wearing only a shirt and slacks, his shirt unbuttoned to his navel. In his arms he carried one of Jillian’s sheer nightgowns.

“I brought this for you,” he said. His eyes were glassy; his hair was disheveled, looking like he had been running his fingers through it. “I love how it looks on you. Won’t you wear it for me again? Please.”

page 285

Okay, I gotta ask, but what’s the whole deal with rape-y V.C. Andrews dudes and nightgowns? Uncle Philip pulled the same shit with Christie in Midnight Whispers and it was just as whack.

Tony whips out a bottle of Jillian’s signature jasmine perfume, climbs over Heaven and attempts to slather it all over her breasts. Heaven fights him off, snapping Tony out of his delusion, and he leaves the room with the nightgown, ashamed.

Luckily, the next morning, Heaven takes Drake and leaves Farthy behind.

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A Hostile Maternal Figure (+ Bonus Mean Girl!)

At the end of Dark Angel, Heaven’s sister Fanny married a rich dude and got herself a nice suburb house and some fancy guard dogs. In Fallen Hearts, she ditches the rich dude and lives alone with her fancy guard dogs. Heaven visits her on occasion, though I have no idea why because Fanny is always horrible. I realize that Heaven just feels this need to help Fanny (maybe because she’s a better Christian than me).

In reality, Fanny’s just a poor abused girl who never saw her own worth. I really did enjoy her character in the first two books, but Neiderman stripped away the depth her character had and turned her into a vain soap opera villain.

Fanny gives Heaven a call to reveal that…

SHE’S PREGNANT WITH LOGAN’S BABY!







Yes, this is going to be the reaction GIF for every V.C. Andrews pregnancy, and I hope this is the only time I get to put two in one review.

Now, it might not be Logan’s baby (as Fanny’s also banging some dude named Randall). Heaven confronts Logan and he cries and blames his wild oats and all that trash. He admits that Fanny seduced while he was at the cabin on a business trip in The Willies, getting him wasted and preying on his poor male inability to turn away a nude woman’s body.

Heaven then falls into an emotional whirlpool, not of woe, but of self-aggrandizing anger.

And then, as suddenly as it had come, the self-pity slipped off my image like a cellophaen wrapper on a forbidden chocolate and was replaced with the heavier, darker wrapping of guilt. Troy. My beloved, beautiful, passionate Troy. I had betrayed Logan with Troy. But it wasn’t the same, no, not at all. For I love him, truly loved him with all my heart and soul even though he was more specter than flesh and blood. How could I refuse him, how? And it wasn’t wrong, wasn’t the same, it wasn’t, because he was only a ghost of my love come back for a precious fleetingmoment. My love was his life blood, and to have been denied him that would have been to have denied who I was, the spirit that was purest and noblest in me. He had come back and then had returned to that unknown, unclear, mysterious world of oblivion, never to be heard from or seen again. Surely that made what I had done different form what Logan had done. I couldn’t believe that Logan had any deep feelings for Fanny. It was lust, simple lust that drove him to her, and it was nor love, but revenge and hatred that drover her to him. She was merely an object of pleasure, a sexual distraction, a sorceress. At this moment I hated her for making my life tadry, for turning what was pure into something soiled and base, and my hate for her gave me strength to face the crisis.

page 202

Sure, Heaven could use her massive wealth to get herself a good therapist to work through her emotional trauma, but THIS IS A V.C. ANDREWS NOVEL, DAMMIT, so instead she decides to pay Fanny for healthcare and child support to shut her up about Logan’s infidelity.

When Heaven and Logan move back to Winnerow, the Tatterton Toy Factory officially opens. Tony makes one last awkward appearance at the party, and then Drake goes missing. Immediately, Heaven knows that it was Fanny who took him. She confronts Fanny, who has legit custody rights to Drake because she is a blood-relation, unlike Heaven.

So yeah, the last quarter of the book is a dumb custody battle, wherein Heaven makes one last-ditch effort to slut-shame Fanny, but to no avail! Alas, Heaven literally buys Drake from Fanny for…

Then Fanny and Heaven go into labour on the same damn day. Fanny has a boy that looks a lot like Logan, who she names Luke. Heaven has a girl who looks a lot like Troy, who she names Annie. So I think we knew exactly where the next-gen book is gonna go, right?

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Some Really Bad Writing

One of the major flaws between Andrews’ prose to Neiderman’s is the dramatic shift in Heaven’s voice. While Neiderman does a decent job writing as V.C. Andrews, he abuses her flowery prose into every sentiment. At least Andrews’ Heaven had some guts to her. She knew when Logan was being a complete and utter dick.

Neiderman’s Heaven thinks everything about their relationship in the first two books all sunshine and rainbows:

I remembered the night when I would look up at the stars and wish for a time when Logan and I would be like a prince and a princess. He had come into my life so dramatically, just like a storybook knight in shining armor, there to do my bidding, to devote his life to me, and I thought surely we were meant to be husband and wife.

page 21

Logan wasn’t there for shit, Heaven. What bout that time he had eye surgery and avoided you for months? What about that time you went to find him in college and he said you didn’t look vulnerable enough for him? HUH?! The only time he really was truly there for you was when you got sick with the flu and he forcibly took care of you and carried you to the bathroom so you could take a dump, and I CLEARLY remember you despising him for that.

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Fantastic Psychological Horror

Ultimately, this book focuses on Heaven coming full-circle. I don’t hate Heaven, but damn if it took a lot of referencing sobby monologues for her to get past her trauma.

She also boned stupid Logan a lot. And she cried while boning him. The book is jam-packed with plenty of these dumb saccharine love-making scenes:

I was weeping for that little girl in the Willies, that wide-eyed, blue-eyed girl who had been forced to grow up too quickly, who had been forced to be a mother to her younger brother and sister and who had seen even that hard, often overwhelming like torn apart by the devastating sale of her brothers and sisters to other families. I was weeping for that yet innocent child victimized by the insanely jealous Kitty Dennison and then befriended and seduced by her husband, Cal. I thought that would be all the love and tenderness there could be for me and was so confused as to mourn the loss of it at first. Most of all, I was weepy for Troy, for the love I should have been able to claim as mine forever.

Logan kissed away my tears the way Troy had and I found myself kissing him back. I needed to be loved. I needed to be reassured and to know that I was alive and that I was cherished. Every kiss, every caress, built the foundation of my fortress of faith in the future. I didn’t want loneliness and sorrow. I wanted an end to tears. I wanted to feel something other than sadness, and I knew that through the act of lovemaking, I could do that.

page 183

Normally I would post that blinking dude GIF, but I had to put my thickest glasses on to read this shit clearly.

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Some Good Olde School Misogyny

Fallen Hearts contains some standard examples of misogyny, but let me just share this passage, wherein Heaven reconnects with her high school friend, Amy Luckett.

In Dark Angel, Amy was one of the only girls who was nice to Heaven. Upon reuiniting, Heaven has some not-so-great opinions to share:

Amy had gainec considerable weight since we were students together at the exclusive Winterhave School for Girls. Now she was a round-faced woman with a small bosom and wide hips.

Later, after chatting about the bitchy girls they both struggled to deal with, Amy relents that they were just sO jEaLoUs oF hEaVeN and aRe StIlL jEaLoUs oF hEaVeN.

I looked at her. It seemed obvious to me that it was she who was jealous. Despite her wealth and her good breeding, her fancy school and her colleges, her clothing and her traveling, she was alone, still searching for something romantic to happen to her. The frustration led her to overeat and the overeating made her unattractive.

“You’ve gained a lot of weight, Amy,” I said when she reached for her fifth finger sandwich. “Shouldn’t you be concerned?”

page 192

Great job, Neiderman. You ruined Heaven. I liked her and now she’s a horrible, fat-shaming class traitor who thinks boning emotionally-abusive idiot men is a good thing.

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Fallen Hearts: My Final Thoughts

Sometimes nostalgia does not bode well, and Fallen Hearts is a prime example of that. Perhaps I should forgive Neiderman, as this was his first attempt at posing as Andrews. It’s just a bit tragic how he took a pretty decent character like Heaven and replaced her depth with vanity and “V.C. Andrews aesthetics”.

And hey, I know that Troy is a beloved Andrews love interest, but her bores the crap out of me. There, I said it.

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A LOOK BACK: “The Paper Bag Princess”

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