#the sunset years of agnes sharp

[ofliterarynature]

OCTOBER 2023 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok no thanks (reread) book club* DNF]

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp | Conrad’s Fate | Hold Fast Through the Fire | All the White Spaces* | The Game of Courts | (Artificial Condition) | From Below | Creatures of Will and Temper | The Saint of Bright Doors | (All Systems Red) | Over My Dead Body | The Twyford Code | A Conjuring of Light | Small Miracles | A Murderous Relation | Realm of Ash | The Magicians of Caprona | The Hourglass Throne | Raw Dog | Graveminder | The Devil and Winnie Flynn

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I am getting to this SO LATE, forgive me if I don't say a lot because I have forgotten so much. Work has eaten all of my time and energy against my will (should I get a new job? Probably). Anyways.

The Hourglass Throne - Will definitely need to reread this before the next book comes out (even thought they're all pretty well self contained for a series!) because WHAT? I have only half an idea what's going on, and no idea how to feel about the ending. Do I grieve? Not grieve? ??????? I think book 2 is still my favorite, but these books are addictive and a joy to read.

The Magicians of Caprona - I think at this point it's fair to say that I don't think DWJ could write a book that is uninteresting to read, but this is definitely my least favorite of at least the Chrestomanci books so far.

Realm of Ash - book 2 of the Books of Ambha series; I didn't like the first book in this series, why did I continue? Hope, that it would build on the things in the first book that I actually liked, and bring the sisters back together. It was better, I guess, but not in any way that really made me like it. I wish I'd followed my impulse and returned it to the library without listening.

A Murderous Relation - another Veronica Speedwell mystery, reliably enjoyable as always :)

Small Miracles - This was a DELIGHT. This was a fun romp (I'm told) in the vein of Good Omens, but with small stakes - and small miracles. The fallen angel of petty temptations is hired by an angelic friend to help the most sinless (and miserable) mortal have a little fun. But there's more to it than meets the eye, and the case gets tangled up the mortal woman's niece, pretending to be a school counselor, difficult family relationships, rants about chocolate, and inconsiderate siblings who rudely keep picking the same human gender as you. It's sweet, comforting, very queernorm, and a little romantic (f/gf)

A Conjuring of Light - I finished my Shades of Magic reread! Thank god. I was so thoroughly not impressed with books 2 & 3 this time around - they're just one book, divided in two, and I don't think it was divided in the right spot. It's so disappointing that these did not age with me, but you will also have to pry my copies away from me because they're one of the few books I've ever gotten signed in person (and the original covers are just cool). I fully intend to submit myself to the new spinoff series because hope never really dies lol.

The Twyford Code - This was such a strange and delightful book, that I'm not even sure I'm mad about the twist at the ending, I had such a good time reading it. (past me, listening: wow, this would have made such a cool fiction podcast, right? Joke's on me haha). I did honestly think I'd forgotten what this book was about for a bit, but then I was going through some old kid's books from my grandma that were *exactly* like the series in this book, and I had a big AHAH moment that delighted me.

Over My Dead Body - this was my first/nonfiction attempt at jamming in some spooky-ish books before the end of October. Overall, good. I did learn some new facts and there were some interesting parts; but I didn't always appreciate some of the author's commentary, and when it say's "America's Cemeteries," it really only means its urban cemeteries, which was a bit disappointing.

All Systems Red/Artificial Condition - Murderbot, my Beloved. rereading for the new book, and I'm trying my hardest to NOT do it on audiobook this time - and it's really worth it to read it in text, I promise, even if Kevin R Free's voice still echoes in my mind.

The Saint of Bright Doors - this was such a strange and wonderful read, I am so delighted to have read this, I love an unapologetically weird book. The vibe definitely reminds me a bit of The City & The City, or in some ways The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy; except I had other problems with those books and didn't finish them, but I did like this one. I know this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but maybe give it a shot.

Creatures of Will and Temper - another spooky book, and ooh boy could I go on an entire rant, I didn't want to finish this one but felt I had to for reasons. I'll let you look up the plot yourselves, but picture this: Victorian London, two sisters (one who likes swords!), and a whole lot of queer characters I wasn't expecting. I was delighted! Except you gradually learn every single queer character is involved with this club that has made a pact with a demon. What exactly does that mean? Who knows, because the book does not tell you until at least 3/4 of the way through, and we only have the word of the jacket copy and our sainted demon slayer, who is sketchy af the moment we get him alone. Turns out it's a chill demon who doesn't want blood sacrifice, cool cool, but maybe it should have been thought through a little more? Also the main/only successful romance in the book is between a 17 year old girl and a woman who is at minimum in her 30's, explicitly encouraged in part by the demon. hmm. Overall the writing and rest of the story was just ok, and the ending was disgustingly saccharine and just bad. Would strongly not recommend, but if someone wants my copy you're welcome to it. 2 stars.

From Below - another spooky book, and somehow still the most successful even though I didn't like it much. I almost DNF'd this in the first half, and while I wouldn't say I wish i had, I think my time could have been better spent. But really - if you are diving at an untouched ship wreck, that went missing with hundreds of unaccounted passengers and crew, in an area of the ocean entirely inhospitable to life, shouldn't one of the things you expect to find be human bodies??????? I got so worked up, lol, but once the spooky stuff started I had a better time.

The Game of Courts - new Nine World's novella! I love that Victoria takes the time to explore the various characters in her books outside of the main narrative. Getting to learn more about Conju ourside the current story was much appreciated, even if getting to see an outsider POV of earlier Kip was maybe the main draw. Probably not my favorite of the Lays novellas, but worth reading - and maybe a good starting place for those who are new to the series? Now if only I could get myself to read Derring-Do...

All the White Spaces - bookclub pick that got rescheduled to Nov (more time to reread Murderbot tho, so yay me). The description of this - trans guy on an antarctic exploration that goes wrong - sounded interesting, but it was kind of meh for me in the end. For one I was expecting more horror, but the description of "polar gothic" I've seen since really fits better. I also wasn't a fan of the supernatural explanation, and the whole thing felt hopeless from the beginning, once we got a grasp on the *actual* details of the situation, so I didn't quite know what we were here for. Not my cup of tea.

Hold Fast Through the Fire - NeoG book two!!!! This series is turning out to be very akin to the Tarot sequence in that they not perfect books or 5 stars by any means, but are so fun and addictive to read. This series is space opera, post-post-apocalypse where Earth has two colonies, and the series is about a team in the space!coast guard. Getting into the specific plot of this book isn't actually important, but there's a good 50/50 split on plot vs talking about our emotions!!! I love it, it definitely shows some improvement over book 1, even though I don't know that the author has got the POV's quite balanced out. Jenks is lucky I love her because her drama sure does keep taking over (and I cried so hard for her in this one you guys). Would recommend. Did I mention that almost everyone is queer?

Conrad’s Fate - a good book, but this is also the point where I really started questioning the recommended Chrestomanci reading order. I think chronologically it's book 2? And I'd already forgotten so much from The Lives of Christopher Chant, I do not understand and wish I'd read them chronologically. Much more fun than the Magicians of Caprona.

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp - I was SO excited when I saw there was a new Leonie Swann being published in english, even if it wasn't the sequel to Three Bags Full (which I read last year and loved). I was even MORE excited when the book opened and was being narrated by the pet tortoise!!! Alas, it was not to last, I did not get another murder novel narrated by an animal. That being said, still pretty good, it reminded me of the Thursday Murder Club (which I liked less), but probably won't be a favorite.

DNF'S - Graveminder and The Devil and Winnie Flynn were both books I own that I tried to fit in for spooky month that did not work out. Winnie Flynn I admit I dropped almost immediately, the vibes were peak bad YA and I wasn't going to torture myself. Graveminder I tried, because I liked the idea, and it wasn't bad per-se, but something about the way it was executed (and the many many POV's) just wasn't working for me. Might fit someone else better though.

Raw Dog I really wanted to like, because the history of hot dogs and a description/ranking of hot dogs are both extremely up my alley - and I did make it 40% in! But there were just a number of factors building up against this - the author's sometimes very (overly?) sharp commentary, my lack of interest in her dysfunctional life, the lack of any comparative rating system for the hot dogs, the food waste, and the sheer number of bodily excretions used as descriptors for the food finally tipped me over the edge. I could have kept listening but I didn't really want to. Perhaps for someone, but not for me.

[fromthestacks]

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp by Leonie Swann

[morgan--reads]

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharpe - Leonie Swann

Summary: When the group of seniors living at Sunset Hall receive a visit from the police about a murder, they’re relieved when the murder in question is different than the one they’ve just committed. However, when it turns out that both murders were committed using the same gun, they’re drawn into the investigation. 

Quote: “I’m watching you! was what the gun was saying. I know what you’re up to! Maybe it was even saying: You’re next!”

My rating: 4.0/5.0  Goodreads: 3.52/5.0

Review: The strengths of this book are its unique point-of-view and its delightful cast of characters. Agnes is cynical, funny, and smart, and she also suffers from moments of disassociation and deafness that complicate her ability to solve the crime. Her fellow residents of Sunset Hall also have quirks born from old age, and all of them have skill sets that make them well-suited to solving crimes. The mystery becomes easy to solve relatively early on, but the investigation is fun and interesting every step of the way due to the charming, quite ruthless group of elderly people solving it. 

[tragically-jane-doe]

Or I've done the stupid thing of going on Libby and borrowing a stupid amount of books and my indecisiveness is hurting me...

They're pretty much all thriller/horror/suspense tis the season and all

[memoriesofpagespast]

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp: A Murder Mystery — Leonie Swann

This "cosy" is in the vein of The Thursday Night Murder Club series but not as good. As in The Thursday Night Murder Club, a group of oddish seniors are saddled with a murder to solve with Agnes being the lead. I found the story amusing and engaging enough but am unlikely to pick-up another should it become a series.

[kristaj]

With the winter solstice upon us, there is a chill in the air, even in Florida. But I"m ready to get cozy with some great books:

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

Maybe Next Time by Cesca Major

The Mystery Guest by Nita Prose

Endgame by Omid Scobie

My Darling Girl by Jennifer McMahon

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp by Leonie Swann

[annarellix]

The Sunset Years of Agnes Sharp by Leonie Swann (Agnes Sharp Mysteries #1)

One murder to solve and another to cover up. It’ll be tricky, but the OAP residents of Sunset Hall are going to give it their best shot.

Sunset Hall is a house-share for the old and unruly, led by Agnes Sharp. It’s an eventful day when this group of idiosyncratic geriatrics gets a visit from the police to inform them of some shocking news: a body has been discovered next door. Everyone puts on a long face, but they are secretly relieved that the body in question is not the one they’re currently hiding in the shed (sorry about that, Lillith). Now the answer to their little problem with Lillith may have fallen into their laps. All they have to do is find out who murdered their neighbour, so they can pin Lillith’s death on them, thus killing two old birds with one stone. To investigate, the group (not forgetting Hettie the tortoise) will venture into the not-so-idyllic village of Duck End and tangle with sinister bakers, broken stair lifts, inept criminals and their own dark secrets.

Book page: https://www.allisonandbusby.com/book/the-sunset-years-of-agnes-sharp/

My Review: They say German humour is not the best in the world, but I can say that they can be funny and there’s a lot of humour. I do remember Porno al Forno (porno cooked in the oven) and Guildo Horn & Die Orthopädischen Strümpfe (Guildo Horn and the Support Stockings) just to name a couple of examples. That said I love Agnes and loved the groups of senior. I found them lovely, mad as a hatter and realistic. They’re not a fit group of people: Agnes has a hip issue; Winston is wheelchair bound and Bernadette is blind. There’s also Edwina who is a yoga fanatic and Charlie who’s healthy. Hattie the Turtle was my love: wise, relatable, and curious. The most normal character living at Sunset Hall. Two bodies and they must find a way to justify the first one as Lilith was killed and she’s now in your shed. Agnes and her friends will start an investigation and it will not be easy as they have to go well beyond their comfort zone and visit the village and the different place which are not the loveliest places. This is a not a classic cozy mystery: there’s a solid mystery and I couldn’t guess the culprit, there’s a village but not the “quaint village” you usually find in cozy mysteries. There’s a great cast of characters that can make you laugh but also make you think that this is a realistic representation of being old. There’s some very funny scene as the Q&A can be a bit weird and the answer a sort of non sequitur. It’s the perfect book if you love black humour and want to read an original and compelling mystery I discovered there’s already a second book, Miss Sharp macht Urlaub (Miss Sharpt Goes on Holiday), and I can’t wait to read it Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for this ARC, all opinions are mine

The Author: Leonie Swann was born near Munich in 1975. She studied philosophy, psychology and English literature in Munich and Berlin. With her first two novels, “Glennkill” and “Garou,” she achieved immediate sensational success: both books were at the top of the bestseller lists for months and have so far been translated into 25 languages. Leonie Swann now lives in England surrounded by ivy and wisteria.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_leonieswann/ GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/204497.Leonie_Swann

[alyblacklist]

From the ep14 promo pics it seems Red and Liz will finally have a confrontation, it's long overdue tbh, I just hope nobody gets hurt in the process. It's safe to assume the Liz is kidnapped or Liz&Red are secretly working together theories are ruled out. That leaves possible memory manipulation or Liz's doing everything out of her own free will. Personally, I doubt Liz/Red/TF will be working together soon. What do you think? How on earth is Liz&Agnes going to live a normal life, if it ever was?

Yes, it looks from the pics like they will face off at Anne’s apartment. I never believed either of those first two theories anyway (kidnapping or secretly in cahoots with Red) so that part is no surprise. Nor do I believe that Anne is secretly aligned with Liz. I think Anne is a genuine innocent who will hopefully not be caught in the crossfire. There are some spoilers out there that suggest Anne may not survive all this (although I do think she survives 8x14) but I have learned that not everything is always as it seems “on paper” from a snippet of a scene so I still hold out hope that Anne survives this mess and at most, is put into hiding somewhere by Red. Absent a sharp turn in her character, I would hate to see Anne harmed and Red has suffered more than enough loss already to last a lifetime. It would be an enormous test of Red’s willingness to forgive Liz if she were responsible for an innocent Anne’s death (never mind of Liz’s character) and not one I’m eager to witness.

I’ve seen the memory manipulation theory floated on Reddit - the theory being that Katarina had Dr. Skovik (the memory doctor who worked on Ilya) manipulate Liz’s memories during his ep in S7 when Katarina had Liz hostage and as a result somehow triggered her into wanting to kill Red after hearing Katarina’s recording. I’m highly skeptical on that one too, anon. 

I think - and am frankly hoping for - all of this madness to be done of Liz’s free will, no matter how disappointing that may seem because I think it’s important for her character that if she is taking these huge dark steps, that she is doing them with as much agency as possible. Obviously she had a traumatic childhood, a serious memory manipulation when she was four that wiped out whatever memories she had of her mother and her life prior to that, the fire, shooting her father. She’s lost almost everyone who ever mattered to her except the Task Force and Agnes. Liz may be at the end of her rope, but I’d like to think the writers didn’t add an extra layer to that of having some new puppet master pulling her strings, whether that is Katarina, or Townsend, or Skip, or anyone else, through artificial means. Liz needs to be the architect here in order to have a chance at ultimately redeeming herself.

And how does she get redeemed? I think there are ways. I think Liz truly believes she is exposing Red as N-13 and that outing him - killing him even - is more than just avenging her mother, it’s about protecting this country and everything she stood for as an FBI agent. She may be dead wrong about that, but I think that’s her mindset. Stealing the flash drive was strong evidence of that. Also her potential alliance with Townsend, who she should want dead just for stalking her mother all those years. Will she ever be an FBI agent again? I’m not sure, and I don’t know that she needs to be. But I’m positive that Panabaker and other higher ups in the government can make this all go away if they choose to and allow Liz & Agnes to walk off into the sunset.  Look what Tom Connolly and Laurel HItchin and the Cabal did for Tom Keen (something never fully explained), look at Red’s own arrangement with Alan Fitch and others. Nothing Liz has done this season has invited the sort of public scrutiny/ manhunt that the the Tom Connolly shooting did and the associated need for a Presidential pardon to clear her name in the eyes of the public.  It’s all largely off book and off the radar and can easily be swept under the rug by the right people.

Redemption in the eyes of the audience is a different matter but I think if Red and Liz come to a detente and Red forgives her, the audience will follow along as they always do. (Well, except on Reddit) I would still like to see Liz and Red end this season aligned rather than as enemies. I think that is possible, but only if Liz ultimately discovers enough “truth” on her own that she can trust Red again.

[bountybossier]

Until Dawn | Morgan & Nic

Takes place the day before the sun yeeted itself. Vampires, snowglobes, the family business.

with: @mor-beck-more-problems

The diary Morgan had borrowed from the Scribe archive had lead to some interesting revelations. First, that the scriptwriters for Final Destination might have been casters with a mean sense of humor, and second, that one of Agnes’ nieces had buried a chest under the homestead shortly before she met a gruesome end in an accident with some clothesline. The homestead had been lost some six years later, of course, but it was entirely possible that the chest remained, and with it, some dirt on what Constance’s deal was, or some artifact that explained why they had been targeted in the first place. And so,scuttling straight from a staff networking dinner at the University, still in her skirt set, Morgan found herself back in the bend at sunset, traipsing through some overgrown grass in search of a magic answer.

The tracking amulet in her hand tingled hot in her hand, leading her towards one of the glorified shacks along the street and around the back. Morgan crept awkwardly into the overgrowth and began to dig, unaware of anyone else nearby. The sooner she got in, the sooner she could get out.

The hunter treated himself to a small six-shooter of whiskey before he left to deal with the night’s bounty. It wouldn’t be a complicated one from what he read over. A palate cleanser in comparison to the other fuckery that poked about in White Crest’s moldy and sea-cured corners. It didn’t surprise Nicodemus that most of the bounties came for shit out in The Bend. The rundown motel he stayed in was somehow the safest, yet still one of the shadiest fucking buildings in that particular godforsaken corner of White Crest. He checked himself over subtly as he walked. Vest on, stakes in jacket, guns on hips, knives in boots and one strapped around a thigh. Holy water in a nice iron flask. The dark didn’t matter to him as he took back alleys and precariously hopped over decaying fences. The place indicated wasn’t too far and when he finally got to it, he nodded an affirmation.

Yup, sure looked like a fucking vampire drug den. Quiet. Foreboding. Sounded about right. He was just in it to get some dust. Except it wasn’t all entirely quiet. He stopped walking and listened. Something digging? He didn’t smell dog or any other type of critter. His senses would be no help. He stepped into the overgrowth with a crunch. If he knew that someone else was there, only fair that he did the same? He continued until he reached the end of the overgrowth and stood in a disgusting backyard. A brow rose as he made a slow 360 turn. He spoke up, voice low and level.

“This your shitty house?”

Morgan yelped at the sound of another voice and wheeled around, shovel raised high. “No!” Wait--that made her sound like she was trespassing. Which she was, technically, if this place belonged to anyone still. But the large scary man in front of her didn’t need to know that. “I mean, it’s not shitty, it’s--rustic! And what are you doing here, exactly?” She positioned herself over the hole she was digging. Until the stranger had shown up, she’d been sure she was almost there. “Weird time of night to be wandering around with--” She eyed the gear bulging from his sturdy frame. Shit. “--all that. Could be dangerous.”

“Rustic’s just a fancy way of sayin’ shitty,” Nicodemus grumbled out as he looked at her, a curious brow lifted ever slightly. At her question, he frowned and glanced up at the house. “...Scavenger hunt.” Was the only explanation he gave, flimsy and half-assed. He didn’t have to explain anything and who knew, maybe she was one of those sympathetic types like Orion? “What are you doin’ diggin’ around then?” Given his own shit explanation, he didn’t expect much from hers either. And that would be fair. What wasn’t fair was the crunch and rustle that had his nerves immediately on edge. Something hostile was getting closer and wasn’t likely to stop. “Yeah, likely could be.” He grabbed for one of the three stakes he had brought with him and immediately lunged, body slamming into a vampire that had started to run up on them. From behind them, he heard more. A hell of a lot more, maybe eight or so. Shit. “God fuckin’ damn it,” he grunted as he wedged the stake in the vampire’s chest, the body poofing. A young and dumb one. Hopefully the rest were like that. He turned to look at the woman and gestured to the house before he started to head up, not moving too far from her. “Fuckin’ A, come on! They ain’t happy!”

“Scavenger hunt,” Morgan repeated, voice shrill as she found herself caught between fear and incredulity. She didn’t exactly feel like doing anything to upset the big scary man with too many weapons on him, but his excuse seemed even thinner than her own. Morgan shifted and tried, discreetly, to reach down into the earth for the chest. “What? Don’t you ever bury things for safekeeping ever? That’s like one of the safest oldest ways in the book.” And if the chest really was just there beneath the surface, if she could just picture the simplest, most obvious way it looked, and pull-- a shape appeared out of nowhere, lunging her way. Morgan stumbled backwards with a sharp cry of fright. Big Scary Man took out a stake and wedged it into the chest as if he’d been doing it his whole life.

She followed his gaze into the dark and-- Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Better to be with the big scary man with the stake than the big scary vampires with the teeth. Morgan sprinted as best she could behind him. This wasn’t how she died, and it wasn’t going to be how she got maimed again either. She scampered up to the house and skidded to a stop, digging her fingers into the dirt and pressing down with her forearm until her cuff was firm in the ground as well. Morgan pushed with all the ‘I really don’t wanna get maimed today’ energy she had brimming at the surface. The earth in front of her dipped and sandy bricks walled the space between the vampires and the ramshackle house. Morgan closed her doors before she could form a whole perimeter. Bricks would never hold for long in the first place, but maybe she’d have a few extra minutes to come up with something better. She darted inside and shut the door, kept running. How many ways to get in were there? “So! Uh, how many of those stakes do you have? And uh, how many doors in this place do you think we got?”

Nicodemus glanced back in time to catch the dirt shift and pull at the woman’s beck and call. Alright. Infinitely in a better spot than he would have been had it just been a regular person digging in the dirt for whatever fucking reason. “Nah, not a scavenger hunt. Sure I had you goin’ for a second,” he deadpanned, a less-than-pleased frown on his face as he started to move through the house. “Lookin’ for treasure then, huh?” The bricks would do what they could, but hungry vampires could get through anything when they wanted to. He grumbled angrily to himself as he pushed open a weak door and it collapsed right off the hinges. Fucking fantastic. “I got…” Fuck. He’d left the one he used outside. “I got two.” He took out one and handed it to her as he checked corners. The house was much larger on the inside than it was outside. He swore in French. Listening, he heard the bricks breaking apart against each other. “Looks like three. One front, that back door, and a side door. Maybe a...” He rattled off the information to her as he pulled open a basement door. “Yup, a basement. That’s not countin’ every goddamn window.” They were shuttered and planks hammered over them but still. He shook his head and looked at her. “I’m thinkin’ basement or upstairs. Funnel ‘em.”

“Two! Okay! One for me, and one for you! That’s fine, that’s totally plenty, definitely not gonna run out and wish we had more!” Morgan was rambling with panic. She was getting distressingly familiar with tumbling headfirst into near death situations; if she barrelled on determinedly enough, her mind and body might not catch up to each other in time for a full blown freak-out to set in. “There wouldn’t happen to be anything super special about stakes would there? Like could you rip the floor open with your big scary hands and use that in a pinch? Is that a stupid question?” Bricks crunched outside as the vampires burst through her wall. Morgan’s brain flitted between her options. Upstairs: a long way to fall. Basement: a lot of house to collapse. Not much of a way out either way. The house trembled. Glass rained down overhead, unseen. Some of them were coming in from above. Morgan gave the Big Scary Man a horrified look. “So, Scary Basement?”

Whatever it was that compelled the world to spin, it truly was testing Nicodemus. He didn’t know how to deal with panicking people. That was the main reason he tried to keep things out of sight, out of mind. A month or two in White Crest proved that trying to keep up with that method would be useless. “Just don’t fuckin’ lose it and you’ll be fine,” he said to her, expression grim. There wasn’t much confidence behind that statement but it was something at least. “Nah, if it’s wood and got a stabby point, it works.” He glanced at his hands, brow furrowed. Yeah, he supposed they were big and scary. Big and scary enough to work against potentially drugged out vampires. He stared at her. “Ease up there, you ain’t gonna die. Probably. I don’t plan on dyin’ so just...stay by me or some shit.” His gaze flickered up at the crash of glass and windows. To the side at broken brick. “Basement, come on. Probably got shit down there too!” He opened the door and gestured in. As he stepped down, a minute-long stretch of French swears flowed out of him at the sight of empty coffins. “Well, that’s just real fuckin’ groovy.” He thought back to her question about stakes. “Lose that, use that.” The basement door cracked open and the first of the vampires started to filter down. The hunter didn’t wait and barreled at the first as soon as they came down, stake in hand.

“Who said anything about dying? You think we’re gonna die?” Morgan shrieked. Footsteps thumped overhead, sending dust down on them. Don’t lose it. She wasn’t losing it. This was only the what time she was questioning fate and mortality in the past month? Was this why her mom hadn’t wanted her in a supernatural hotspot? Because freak falling accidents could turn into chased and maimed by vampires in the hands of the curse? But Morgan wasn’t losing it! She scampered down to the basement, her mind only thinking a few seconds ahead. Don’t trip on the stairs and break something! Don’t run into the terrifying coffins! Morgan didn’t have time to say, we’re totally cornered, before there were vampires coming down the stairs. 

“Fucking stars!” She squealed, jumping to the ground. The big scary man was handling things on his own just fine, with all the punching and slamming and staking. She looked at the stake in her hand. She wasn’t sure how she could work up that much force in her arms to make that happen, but then again, there was one jumping the rail and coming at her, fang bared and eyes blazing. “No!” She put out her hands and pushed, not with physical force, but with the energy around her, with her fear and her exasperation. The vampire flew against the stair railing, hard enough to crack the wood. Morgan looked uncertainly at the big scary man. At least she hadn’t been hit yet, right? Then again, the vampire was already getting to its feet and looking several kinds of unhappy. Morgan moved her attention to her stake. How much force would she need to use that again?

“Fuckin’ Christ, no! We’re not gonna fuckin’ die.” His hearing and her shouting forced him to flinch. Nicodemus was preoccupied with the vampire quite literally at hand. The hunter a year ago wouldn’t have thought much of the swarm of vampires, alone or not. But now? White Crest opened something in him, or maybe it tried to put something messily back together with schoolhouse glue, that he had left well enough alone in him. He glanced over at the stranger as the vampire underneath him burst into ash and dusted the basement floor. His heartbeat was slow and steady in his chest even as the swarm of--ten, he counted--fell in line on the stairs. What he wouldn’t have given for a big fuck off spear. 

He reached for the iron flask on his hip and took a swig of it before he swiftly closed it back up. Another vampire crashed down on him and took him off balance. Fangs tried to close around his neck but he spat holy water straight into the vampire’s open eyes and mouth. Undead skin sizzled and in their momentary daze, Nic shoved the stake up and into their still heart. Alright. That made two. He felt eyes on him and he snapped up onto his feet. “In and up! Leverage it.” Ah hell, the vampire she’d shoved away was pissed and he was dealing with another one bearing down on him. “Fuckin’ A, take this! Holy water!” He passed over the water to her and quickly knelt down to grab one of the coffins. With his strength, they weren’t too heavy and he flipped it toward the closest vampire to smash them against the wall along the stairs that led up into the main house. Broken bits of wood burst everywhere. He grunted and rolled his wrist that held the stake. His expression grew slightly more enthused. “Yeah, they ain’t gon’ make it easy, huh?”

Morgan had the stake in the air, primed to thrust. When the vampire she’d thrown lunged, she sent it in, full force--in and not quite up. For an awful moment she and the vampire looked at each other, expecting something very different. Fortunately, a small scary bottle of holy water came her way. Morgan popped it open and swung, letting water arc over the vampire and turn its flesh into something much less stable than marbly skin. This was her chance. Morgan knew it. Still, she couldn’t help but whine wordlessly as she rushed forwards and worked the stake upwards as the man had instructed. She kept her hands fastened on the stake and shoved it upwards. The writhing vampire turned to dust. Morgan didn’t have time to contemplate her victory, a vampire was grabbing her by the arm and shoving her against the wall. Morgan cried out and shoved the stake in again. She had to get out of this corner. Morgan reached with her power for one of the coffin splinters and sent them outward to the next one chasing her as she scrambled to join the hunter (he had to be a hunter, right?) on the other side of the basement. At least one had to land, right?

As the vampire on her collapsed to dust, Nicodemus breathed just slightly easier. He wasn’t getting tired but he was concerned they’d run out of goddamn resources. Fuck, this was why he didn’t commit himself to the hunter mentality of protect all from certain, supernatural death. He shook his head, cracked his jaw as a vampire slugged him. He knocked the vampire in the nose and scraped his knuckles on sharp teeth, but managed to use the shock to his advantage as he burrowed the stake in with cold calculation. He laughed with bloody teeth. “Good shit,” he grunted out as she came to stand by him, both equally covered in vampire ash and dust. The splinters of wood she sent out seemed to pepper the remaining vampires and one gave a sharp scream of an inhalation as a particularly large one dug into their chest. He would need to look into some kinda stake launcher if he kept this shit up. 

Either their numbers were starting to slow down or they were doing a decent fucking job for a ragtag team. And just when he almost started to feel good, another showed. He glanced up, to a small boarded up window. If that was blown open, they wouldn’t be able to hide from the dawn that would steadily creep up. “Got an idea. Gonna need your help, alright?” He flexed his fingers around the stake and reached with a free hand to grab the handgun on his hip. “Gonna bust that fucker open--” He gestured to the window. “And block that door. A few hours, sun’s gonna come. Take care of this shit. Can’t go anywhere.” He spoke fast as he shifted and glanced back. “Plenty of wood and shit we can barricade with back there, I think. Keep ‘em back.” He glanced at her. “Sound good?”

There was something strange about the Big Scary Man as he spoke to her that made Morgan uncomfortable. Something that was almost warm. It was out of place in a room full of vampires and their dust. But this wasn’t time for uncanny epiphanies or evaluating the guy as anything other than the person helping her to not die. “Block the door,” she repeated. “Got it. Easy enough! Y-you’ve done this before, a lot, huh?” She began to inch towards the door. If there was any metal in the lock, it would make a good start. There was still the wall. She was feeling kinda tired, almost spent. Again. But not getting maimed was always a good reason to blow the magic piggy bank. She braced herself for the sound of his gunshot and tensed to run.

“Yeah, more than I fuckin’ care to admit. Just punchin’ in time,” Nicodemus muttered to her before he spat blood. Without much of a warning, he free-aimed at the window and blew five 9mm holes into it. In the basement, the gun was loud and he braced against the impact of his sensitive ears. The wood was old and hadn’t much give to it, the way that it fractured and splintered outward. Moonlight spilled in. He grunted and turned on his heels, eyes between her and the undead that stood between them, their gazes unsure of where to look. Bracing his gun hand underneath with the hand that held the stake, he spent the rest of his clip hitting skulls as he backed up toward the small room at the back of the basement that could be made into a temporary safe haven. Behind the smoking gun, he peered over at her and loaded another clip. Bullets wouldn’t put them down but they’d be enough to stun. “You got it?”

Morgan sprinted as soon as the bullets were done flying. Guns. Of all the fucking things, it had to be guns. Worst of all, she was relieved he had one so they didn’t have to separate. Once inside the smaller room, a storage cupboard, by the looks of it. There were even some questionable looking cans still on the rotted shelves. She reached for the table by the door and shoved it in front of them. Then the shelves. “Help me!” She said. When there was a sizable pile, Morgan reached down with a ‘this is seriously not the time to get maimed or die’ push and turned it all into a heavy mush of wood and metal that was definitely not supposed to exist but would, in all events, keep them safe. “So,” she said, backing to the end of the room, breathing hard from the rush, “You um, have a name?”

“Give me a fuckin’ second.” The hunter followed close behind and followed suit in stacking as much heavy shit as he could against the door. A grunted string of Cajun French happened under his breath as Nicodemus gently tested the barricade just to be sure. If that’s what it could be called. Yeah, it’d hold for the next… He scrubbed vampire dust off his watch and squinted. Couple hours. Christ. At least by the end of it, the sun would be out and there’d be more dust than he or the client ever asked for. To little success, he tried to clean his bloody and dusty face. With ash stuck in his eyelashes, he turned to look at her with a frown. “...yeah, fuck it, might as well start a damn campfire…” For all his grumbles and French swears, he was too tired to be genuinely bothered by the circumstances. It worked itself out. He sat down heavily and tipped his head back against the wall. “Sure do. Nicodemus. You?” He peered over at her. Fuck, his head was killing him. “Magic, huh?”

Morgan sank down to the floor and sent a quick message to Cece about a change of plans for the evening. She didn’t want her falling into the same vampire trap she and Nicodemus were in, and if this was the brand of fuckery her curse wanted to throw at her now that she was on a hotspot, she should get used to handling herself without her help anyway. She tucked her knees up to her chest and forced herself to breathe evenly. In. Hold. Out. “Morgan,” she replied at last. “And, yeah. Not usually like this, but yeah.” She offered him what she hoped was a winning and ‘don’t hurt me’ smile. “I have an Etsy store, but I can do real things too. Not healing, unfortunately, but if you need to turn stuff into other stuff? Um, I do a lot with rocks.” In. Hold. Out. “What, um, what do you like to do, Nic? When you’re not, um, doing this? O-oh, Is it okay if I call you Nic or do you hate that?”

It didn’t take much to piece together that Morgan, as Nicodemus now knew her, hadn’t exactly seen shit like a vampire swarm before. “Shitty meetin’ like this an’ all, but hell, it fuckin’ worked. Can’t complain.” The fact she had an Etsy store sealed his prior thought and he nodded, a sound of affirmation coming from him. At her smile, he offered a slight frown and a slight dip of his head. “Reckon it takes a lot of you but I don’t know a lot about that whole thing.” The hunter was content to sit in silence but that wasn’t an option. If talking might keep her from assuming the worst would happen, if she even did, a momentary sacrifice could be made. “Can do my own healin’ so I got that bit covered,” he offered gruffly. It was likely she had pieced together what he was and he never felt particularly compelled to cover it. “What’s that? Ain’t that--Shit.” He paused to find the word. “Alchemy? Nicolas whatever his fuckin’ name is?” He snorted and shook his head. “Me? I make snowglobes and…” He trailed. Shit, he really didn’t have any other hobbies. “And Nic’s fine. You good?”

“Alchemy, yeah. And I’m not totally spent, but when we get out of this, you’ll probably be the one dismantling uh...all that, once I zap it loose.” She offered him another smile. “And you’re thinking of Nicolas Flamel.” Stupid Harry Potter, spilling all the wrong secrets and getting everything in a twisted, backwards blender for the world to eat like candy. “He wasn’t that special, you know. Most everyone in my family could do this stuff, for starters. But not many people know even as much as you do, so.” She shrugged. This was way more information about a hunter than Morgan was comfortable with. Granted, Nic’s gear seemed pretty vampire specific, and Morgan didn’t have any reason to protect them. If anything, under better circumstances, this might be the time to ask if he knew anything about pretty blondes who liked to hurt witches. But she couldn’t not think of Remmy. Would Nic be kind if they were in this room with him, instead of her? And yet… “Snow Globes?” Really?  “...How do you make those?” She asked gently.

“Yeah, think I can do that,” Nicodemus said with a small nod. He shifted to sit cross-legged, elbows in the bends of his knees as he used a hand to crack his neck. That fixed one issue. He looked at the floor as Morgan talked, not keen on eye contact, but continued to listen. “‘Fraid I only know the name, that’s about it. I don’t deal with, uh, magic much. More that shit and other shit.” He gestured to the noise beyond. Given the circumstances, he didn’t mind offering that information freely. Didn’t care all too much either. Just about everyone he had met so far knew what he was in some way or other, for better or for worse. Magic made him slightly uncomfortable but seeing how she used it, how it had helped… His gut instinct wavered some as logic came through. Morgan could have crushed him with a wave of her hand, mashed him between stone, wood, and dust. But she didn’t. He didn’t want to think further than that. Not right then. The hunter smiled to himself, small and only barely hidden. “Yup, snow globes. Ain’t too hard.” Oh shit. He was actually excited to talk about his snowglobes. That was fucking weird. Morgan might have been the first to ask him that in...awhile. “Do the, uh, lid part first. Glue all the shit down and let it set, then water, glycerin, and whatever fancy shit you want in the mason jar. That’s what I use. Put ‘em together and let it dry overnight. Sometimes use holy water too.”

Morgan nodded along to Nic’s explanation. “Kinda glad to know you don’t deal with magic much. This uh, would’ve been a really bad time to find out you moonlight as a witch hunter.” She couldn’t help but laugh nervously. There was a decent amount of scuffling outside as the surviving vampires got up to stars only knew what. She needed to think about something else. Like the snowglobes. Snowglobes out of jars. “Holy water? No way. Isn’t that hard to come by?” Maybe not if you killed vampires like Nic did. Morgan didn’t know what to make of it, putting his weapons into something fragile and pretty to make it happen. “It sounds like really delicate work,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you have any pictures on your phone? I’d like to see what kinda stuff you put in them.”

Nicodemus snorted and shook his head, ran a hand over his face. Dust fell out of his hair and joined the must of the rest of the room’s mustyness. “Nah. Ain’t for me. Other assholes do that. ‘Sides, magic’s...You said you don’t do healin’, but--” He might as well ask while they had another half hour or so to kill before dawn arrived. “--Know anythin’ for headaches? Excedrin ain’t doin’ shit for me.” With his hand, he made a so-so motion. “Just need a faith healer and some water. Ain’t much to it, I don’t think.” Sure there was more to it, the holy logistics or whatever the fuck, but he didn’t pay attention to that. “It can be, yeah,” he looked at her, waited for her to laugh at him. She didn’t. Slowly, he slid his phone out and unlocked it. He showed her a recent one. One with a tombstone and a small raven on top of it. Small skulls hung in the water, along with black glitter. “That, uh, kinda stuff. Whatever shit’s around.” He raised a brow by a slim margin. “Your store...what's it, uh, got?”

“Not really,” Morgan said apologetically. “But  my mom had a lot of herbalist recipes. I don’t know if they work harder than Excedrin though. I can brew you a mean tea from her recipe to find out. Give you the card of an acupuncturist who knows a thing or two about this sort of thing.” She took the phone into her hands and looked at it. Deirdre must have been rubbing off on her, because the skulls in the graveyard looked kinda cute. “Do you make them for other people too? I’d like to have one like that. With the little tombstone, and some bones?” She handed it back, almost warmed by the careful craftsmanship. “Oh, nothing like that. Crystals and candles, mostly, and I started working in bath salts. They’re good for easing your muscles, if you’ve got some tension and time for a good soak, but there’s nothing special about them.” It was all so normal, so nice, and yet Morgan’s skin was crawling in the wake of these revelations. Kaden all over again, except worse because Nic wasn’t much of an asshole. He was rough around the edges, a little scary looking, but all he’d done since they met was help her. “Nic, can I ask you a weird personal question? You don’t have to answer, obviously, but… how did you get sucked into this?” She nodded towards the vampires at the barricade. “Why do you do it?”

“Tea’d probably work better than the fuckin’ whiskey I’ve been nursin’,” Nicodemus admitted. “If it...ain’t weird after this whole damn mess, yeah, that’d be...nice, I guess.” He watched her face as he showed her the snowglobe. Still, she didn’t laugh. Morgan actually seemed to appreciate it. Unlike some assholes that laughed it off as something stupid and a waste of time. Early in his life, he hadn’t counted on snowglobes keeping him sane, yet there he was. Stuck in a supply closet with a witch, discussing business tactics while covered in the remains of even deader vampires. The hunter might even consider it surreal but nothing fucking surprised him any more. Might as well be getting too old for that shit. “Bath salts? Be careful with that shit if Florida’s got anythin’ to say about it…” he trailed off as he listened to the vampires outside. They seemed to grow increasingly restless. Good. Sun would be up soon enough. “Never thought about makin’ ‘em for other people but...could give it a shot or somethin’.” Never had anyone around to make them for, admittedly. He didn’t expect his life to transition from bounty hunter for hire to professional snowglobe maker anytime soon, but it was a funny thought to entertain. As soon as he heard the words personal question, he had a feeling what it might be. “Ain’t weird, Morgan. Most people ask the same shit,” he said, words harsh but tone less so. He was too tired for that and he sighed heavily before he spoke. “Same way as most hunters. Family business an’ all. Pays like anythin’ else.” Monotone and straight to the point. From the corner of his eye, he looked at her. “That bother you?”

“I would get one from you,” Morgan said, risking a look Nic’s way. She wasn’t sure what her face was doing, if he could see that she was scared, or that she was trying to understand, to reconcile his hard-edged kindness with the deeds that had brought him here. “I’d pay you, or at least offer a fair trade.” He could be capable of more than just hurting people. That was the strangest and saddest thing of all. She turned her attention back to the barricade. Family business? LIke he’d been raised into it, without a chance to know better, or be better? Morgan was starting to understand a little, but the picture didn’t make her feel any less sick. “Do you like it?” She asked. “Is it just all you know, or--” She shook her head, unsure how to finish her thoughts. “I ask because I know people. They just want to be good, and get from one day to the next.  They just want to get to be themselves, to be known by people, and be safe. And back home--” She hesitated. “I mean, that’s all I want too. I want a nice, small life. But back home, there were a times where that was unnecessarily hard, because of laws, and casual cruelty, and because I knew if I tried too hard--” Well, her curse might snatch that up for one thing. But for another, “Someone might decide to hurt me. Or kill me, just for that. And so I just...I can’t help but feel for them. These people I know. Does that make sense…?”

“Holy shit. Really?” The response was immediate, completely unfiltered. Nicodemus blinked, stared straight ahead at the mess ahead of them. Her face was moving but he couldn’t tell what way she was looking at him. “I mean, fuck. Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He kept his gaze straight ahead at her question, but his fingers started to tap against his thigh at an unsteady rhythm. Damn it. It would have been better to not say anything. In his experience, it usually was. His jaw worked, teeth quietly rubbing against each other. He didn’t have to look at Morgan to get a sense of how she might be looking at him that time. “Ain’t about likin’ it,” he said stiffly as he back stepped into nigh-unbreachable stoicism. “If I liked it, I’d be dead.” Young hunters always got too zealous, too in over their heads with the black-and-white morality that older hunters tried to peddle. Like Samson tried and nearly succeeded to do with him. He didn’t say much else as he listened to her talk. It was a strange place, a strange situation, to be discussing morality or how one went about surviving. Or maybe, with vampires trapped behind a blockade of their own making, it wasn’t. What the hell did he know? He remained impassive as she talked. When the quiet settled, he checked his watch. The dead would be burning soon. 

“Yeah...Yeah, it’s what I know,” he finally said as he looked at Morgan. “I decide what I do. What, who, I go after. I used to not. I’ve met...people too. Here.” The worst part of it all? Maybe, somewhere, he was starting to feel for them too. Every fucking day. Every person he met took slim shards of him away. Even after this, she likely would too. And still, he kept on how he did. He didn’t know how to cope. Didn’t know how to be without that torch he carried, the bonfire he promised to start all on his own. “Sometimes I decide not to. I could’ve decided not to tonight,” he said as he ran a hand through his short hair and sat up straighter. “Best that I did, huh?” It wasn’t the right time to laugh, but he did in a hollow sort of way that didn’t dig deep. In a few minutes, his watch would chime. The laugh faded fast and he rolled his head back against the dirty wall. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, Morgan. Want you to know that.”

“Yes, really,” Morgan said softly. “They’re beautiful. And that one reminds me of someone I care about. I’d either give one like it to her, or keep it to think about her. And aren’t snowglobes meant to remind you of wonderful things anyway? It’s perfect.” She wondered if Nic saw his potential beyond death, or if all the blood and this, what was it hunters told themselves? The word of some god? Another fucking duty to break their souls into pieces over? Nic, at least, had some kind of code, some kind of discretion. He said he knew people and Morgan wanted to believe him. Someone who could use their hands to make beautiful, fragile things out of the ordinary should be the kind of person with at least a little kindness, and the awareness to exercise it. “I am glad you decided to, since it’s the only reason I’m alive right now,” she admitted. There wasn’t much relief to be had there however. “And I am, still alive and breathing and not a vampire or a zombie, so I do feel safe enough with you. And I do…” Shit. She couldn’t stop and change her mind now. “...I do think you want to be a good person. That counts for something. And, I mean, sometimes being big and scary can save the day. But sometimes what makes things better is more like a snow globe. You can do lots of things, Nic. I hope you know that.”

The hunter thought of the one kept right on his nightstand. All purple, green, and gold. That dumb alligator looking at him every morning. Discomfort rose up in Nicodemus like sickness. Morgan was kind, impossibly so, to him. She could have just as easily not said a fucking word to him, sit it out in silence and wait for the dust to settle. But she didn’t. She got him talking, even got him to show a snowglobe. The things he felt so peculiarly protective over, even if his rough hands fumbled the glass and there were slim nicks in his skin to prove it. He chanced looking at her as she spoke. “Yeah, might’ve been dead myself,” he said with a shrug. “Here’s to buried shit, huh?” His gaze went to the mess ahead of them and his head cocked some as the infernal screaming started. An awful sound to most ears. Nic just wanted it to be over. How that stacked up against her statement of him wanting to be a good person, he didn’t know and he grunted. The line of his jaw softened by a thin margin as he stood up. Being big and scary is what would get them out of their makeshift sanctuary and as the vampiric screaming startled to dwindle, he cracked his neck. Later, he could consider the depth of her words. How they didn’t just stick to his skin like burs but instead, burrowed. “Got all that from a snowglobe?” The hunter forced a faint smile as he braced himself and started shoving against the mass, pushing until it started to give under his own weight and hell-given strength. “...Guess I do, yeah.”

Morgan didn’t laugh. There was a horrible, too real sound coming from the other side of the door. She wouldn’t have done anything different. They’d given chase, and attacked, trying to take her life. This was fair. And sometimes, fairness wasn’t pretty. Morgan breathed slowly, carefully, and waited for it to be over. She shrugged at his question. “More like from you, but sure,” she said. She got up and waited for Nic to move her barricade out of the way. He was so strong, she didn’t even have to zap the parts loose after all. “Um...I’m glad, that you do. Don’t forget anytime soon, okay? You’re not a thing. You’re more.” She exhaled with relief when the door opened. Ash and sunlight, and a way out.

[uselessyelling]

The sun sets, too

On the island there are apple trees and I can always hear the waves. The Penzance River branches into ocean-water pools among the orchards I’ve planted and the ones I have yet to tame. My neighbor Agnes often worries, so I say hello when the sun is setting because I get the sense she’s lonely and doesn’t like the evenings, or maybe endings in general - the finality of things - and I wish I could tell her nothing ends in Animal Crossing, not the orchards nor the tide nor the workout routine our duck friend Scoot does to make each day glow.

But I can’t say that, because New Horizons doesn’t let me. I can only listen and leave and hope she figures this out on her own.

I sound like an asshole because I’ve just finished reading The Sun Also Rises for the first time in years. Hemingway’s connective “and” always sounds like magic until I write it out myself and realize that, maybe, it’s not so easy. I also apologize for the “nors.” I’m not in Pamplona with Jake Barnes and Brett Ashley and I can’t go out to the bars because we’re all stuck inside. I can only daydream by playing Animal Crossing and reading Hemingways’ second novel. I think I love them both.

I named my island Penzance - New Penzance wouldn’t fit - because I envisioned a Wes Anderson diorama of an island getaway. This, my first real Animal Crossing, would be my Moonrise Kingdom, suffused with people who speak plainly about romance because they desperately wish they weren’t romantics. (12-year-old Sam to 12-year-old Suzy: “I love you but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”)

But yesterday I reopened The Sun Also Rises and finished it earlier today, with bouts of Animal Crossing between chapters. Call it an odd double-billing, but the two complement each other well. There’s a languid, rolling quality to the pair that pulls me gently from one to the other, the dreamlike escapism all the more poignant amid the solitude of the past two weeks:

7:00:  I feel whiskers in my nose as my cat Daisy gently nudges me awake.

7:10: Coffee is brewing and my other cat Scarlett is eating breakfast. I turn on my Switch.

7:30: I return from an unnamed island on a biplane flown by a Dodo, my pockets bulging with bamboo shoots and iron nuggets and fish.

8:05: I open The Sun Also Rises to the Shakespeare & Company bookmark I used the night before. Jake and Bill are fishing outside of Burguete and drinking themselves to sleep on the banks of the Irati River. They talk shit about Robert Cohn and Brett Ashley. They meet an English dude named Harris. He also fishes and drinks and sleeps.

9:00: This sojourn in the hills northeast of Pamplona reminds me of my brothers. One is now in Korea. It’s getting late across the world, and I call to tell him goodnight.

9:20: Jake and Bill travel from Burguete to Pamplona on a bus with a group of Basques. They pass around leather bags of wine. Hemingway - as always - obsesses over the weather, and in this chapter the sun is beaming and the air is warm, and I put the book down to watch the passerby on the street two floors below me. Once again there is only the occasional jogger or delivery worker.

9:45: I turn on my Switch. I pull my character out of bed. This is weird, I think. My character doesn’t need sleep.

11:00: Construction on the shop is underway and will be done tomorrow. The Penzance Museum will open as well.

11:10: I begin the chapters about - no, dedicated to - the Festival of San Fermín, and the week-long fiesta in the cafes and wine shops and the bustling arcade of Pamplona. A co-worker today called these chapters “Hemingway at his absolute finest,” and I’m not sure I disagree. They’re a novella of their own, sweeping us along with the crowd from the morning cafes to the bullfights just outside of town, and back to the arcade again before we branch off for naps and private dinners and reconvene in back-alley bars to dance and drink and bump shoulders with strangers who will soon become comrades to our little group.

12:45: I read these chapters again. I imagine the pleasant wine haze of a day among the crowd, unworrying, here in my neighborhood or across the Hudson into the city. I can’t and shouldn’t have days like this now, so The Sun Also Rises will do, until it’s safe to do so again.

2:00: I water my newly planted bamboo shoots. Turns out, they don’t need water. I fish my own Irati for perch.

And so on.

I’ve considered A Farewell To Arms my favorite Hemingway for a while now. Scribner published it only three years after Also Rises, but Hemingway was already more selective in his sentimentality, more assured in his “iceberg” style. Yet reading Also Rises again, I’m struck by how much of a fucking adventure it is. It moves from Paris to Pamplona, up to San Sebastian and back to Paris again. It’s based heavily on a week Hemingway spent in Spain with British and American expatriates, and as in the novel, that week deteriorated among romantic jealousies and petty squabbles. But still - it feels like Hemingway had an absolute blast writing the thing.

That’s not to say it’s without its sobering moments. As is the author’s style, we rarely glimpse the protagonist’s thoughts. One famous passage, however, sees Jake Barnes saying goodnight to Brett Ashley, minutes after he laid crying in bed because he loves her, and she loves him, but that’s all they can do, because a wound from the war left him impotent and they can’t love each other physically.

“It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime,” Jake thinks, after watching Brett climb into a cab and ride off into Paris, “but at night it is another thing.”

The passage reminds me of Agnes, my neighbor who gets lonely at night. At least, I imagine she does. Because let’s be honest: it’s my island, and I’m projecting. I’m Agnes. I’m the one who can’t stomach endings, the finality of things, the weight it puts on my chest, the credit-roll farewell of a long TV series, a goodbye at the end of a joy-soaked day I promise not to forget, but know I eventually will anyway.

And of course, there’s that last line. Jake has gone to Madrid to bring Brett back to Paris after her tryst with a young bullfighter has gone awry. Pressed up against Jake in the back of a Spanish cab, Brett turns to him and says “Oh Jake. We could have had such a damned good time together.”

“Yes,” Jake says. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”

The 2014 Hemingway Library Edition gives us a glance at previous versions of Jake’s response. At first, Hemingway wrote “Isn’t it nice as hell to think so.” Then: “Isn’t it nice to think so.” Somewhere along the line, he finally settled on the knowingly regretful “Isn’t it pretty to think so?” It’s sharp and perfect and it cleaved me in half both times I came to it on the tail end of 250 pages.

I first read this book after a breakup. If you’re lucky enough to have loved someone and unlucky enough to have had to say goodbye, whether suddenly or over many months, that ending line might sting, like it did for me several years ago, and like it did for me this morning. I cry often - I always have - and this quarantine, noble and necessary as it may be, gives me the time and solitude to think about the deaths and breakups and goodbyes of my life. I’m tearing up even now.

Yes, the The Sun Also Rises has ended. But Animal Crossing has not. And it won’t. And it’s here where the unlikely pair diverges, to complement each other all the more, one living on in my head like every great novel, the other resting firmly in my hands, there when I wake up and there as I fall asleep.

That’s the true fantasy of Animal Crossing - the one I feel acutely as someone drawn to endings despite their crushing force: it doesn’t end. There are no goodbyes. Orchards will need pruning and neighbors will ask me favors. I’ll build a fence and make a home and ask Agnes how she’s doing, and of course I’m really asking myself, remembering the Jakes and Bretts and Cohns of my life, the Pamplonas and the Iratis, the wine drunks and red meridian sunsets drawn across the orange-blue skies. And I’ll come back to Penzance tomorrow and the next day, and the rocks will grow back beneath the apple trees while the waves rush in and the tide rolls out and the ocean flattens the sand.

[wearethegoodlife]

TheGoodLife! “Camp Nice” 2017 – Super Re-Cap Extravaganza!

Have you ever wished you could go back to some of the experiences of your youth but in your adult body with all the wisdom and sense of self you’ve acquired since? We have too. And as firm believers that anything is possible, we’ve taken it a step further and turned that wish into a reality! Welcome to Camp Nice, the ultimate summer camp for adults! What started as an idea for a little camp excursion for the autumnal equinox has evolved over the past four years into a one of a kind communal adventure for family and friends of TheGoodLife! This year was far and beyond the most epic Camp Nice yet! Moving to a new location nestled in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains along the Great Appalachian Valley, Camp Nice 2017 was a private wilderness paradise that included a lake and fleet of boats, miles of hiking terrain, an archery range, an arts & crafts hut, even a haunted cabin in the woods! On top of that there were literally acres of available camping zones, a central cabin village, and both bathing and kitchen facilities meaning campers could go as camp or as glamp as they wanted, no judgement here! If that wasn’t enough, we had the generous support of Burton Snowboards, Cutty Sark Whisky, ABK Beer, and Unreal Snacks, who all contributed in major ways to amplify the Camp Nice experience. From Burton providing extensive camping equipment from their collection with Big Agnes to Cutty Sark throwing a multi-course “Pioneer Dinner” cooked over the fire to ABK keeping Camp Nice hydrated with beer for a week to Unreal Snacks hooking up the best s’mores this side of the Mississippi, this years sponsors were next level. And so were the campers. Representing the wide diversity of TheGoodLife! Fam, 2017’s crop of campers were a radical group of artists, musicians, photographers, models, writers, chefs, activists, and athletes, whose collective creative energy was unmatched. Needless to say, we created some beyond epic experiences! Please settle in and get ready for some major camp vibes as we present the Camp Nice Super Re-Cap Extravaganza! All film photography by Craig Wetherby. Words by Tim Brodhagen. Can’t wait for next year!!

Calling all campers…

Yung Sig was one of the first to arrive…

And she got settled in pretty nice at her lakeside tent zone in the Burton x Big Agnes classic!

Next up was Akira & Amaya…

Our new camp mascot Hubert the Heron swooped on by for a sunset welcome…

While Siggy earned the first Boating Badge!

Akira & Amaya got right on Fire Badge duty as soon as the sun set…

Fire Badge EARNED!

Welcome to CAMP NICE! We have arrived!!

The ambitious duo were up bright and early to earn their Fishing Badges!

Captain Blue was there at weigh in to make sure they had some keepers!

Blue popped up the Red Hook Snack Bar and got his Grill Master Badge on with the quickness!

Tono was enjoying the goodness!

Becky, Bree & Cass got theirs!

And so did Rata…YUM!

You know Pat wasn’t sleeping on this either.

Then it was time to start smoking the meat for the Cutty Sark Pioneer Grill!

YUP! Very official!

And might as well add some ABK Beer to the mix!

We were definitely STOCKED UP!

Plenty of Cutty to go around too!

As we got into the night the drinks started flowing!

Blue was focused!

But it was well worth the wait! We all eat right at Camp Nice!

Very NICE!

Thanks to John & Jennifer for getting down with us!

Oscar the Owl was feeling the Cutty merch too!

Now it was S’Mores time! And our friends at Unreal came thru with the healthy vegan goodness!

WHOA!!!

S’MORE PLEASE!!

Toasted bagels were definitely on the breakfast menu!

Our library got a nice upgrade this year with Ricky Powell’s latest creation The Individualist! Thank you!

Yup! Even The Lazy Hustler came thru this year!

Next up was Arts & Crafts time with some custom Camp Nice screen printing with Tono!

Heather whipped up a nice one!

Everyone got their tie dye on!

Blotto got busy!

These guys were earning all the badges!

Erika was a pro!

Chenoah got crafty with it too! Thank you Cass!

Petey aka DJ Smoke L.E.S. was in the house!

Joe’s Pizza!

Arts & Crafts Badges for all!

All the colors were definitely pretty trippy…

Now it was time to earn some Archery Badges with Coach Becky!

These guys were on another level!

Hannah was a sharp shooter..

And so was Timbo!

Emma was pretty on point!

Blotto had that eagle eye!

It was unseasonably hot out so we had to get back in the water! Hannah couldn’t wait!

Siggy & Sable were ready to go!

Chenoah was down too!

Cass was doing it right!

Even tho Pat was trying to harsh her mellow…

Looked very refreshing!

  After some fun in the sun it was time start chilling hard in the hammock. Hannah earned her Rigging Badge!

Pat didn’t waste any time…after all he had a very chillactive day!

Cass was down too!

Catch of the Day!

Paella Time!

Thats right…

OOOF!

Sunsets were proper!

Moonsets were better!

But Becky’s Dutch Oven Peach Cobbler was even better…

Becky is kinda the BEST if you haven’t heard…

She’s always down for an adventure…

FEARLESS!

Siggy & Sable are pretty badass too!

YEAHERRR!!!

Cass got higher than most…

Emma earned style points…

TJ dropped in!

Sable got her eagle on!

Too much fun ! ! !

Sebas was a natural!

Aimz was glowing with joy!

Teamwork makes the dream work! Especially when wearing Pats Pants!!

But wait…Back to Becky…She even shoots arrows in a kimono!!

WINNING AT LIFE!

Miranda stays WINNING!

And so does Erika!

TJ was winning too!

Jesse thought he had the advantage with his non-regulation sharp shooter specs on but got disqualified…

TJ clinched the big WIN!

Archery Badge EARNED!

After a rough day at the archery range The Zen Brothers got their midnight lakeside set crackin!

Next morning Amie was first one to step up to get her Fire Badge…

EARNED!!

George liked to sleep late…

Rise & Shine!

Mermaid Badges were waiting to be earned…

Siggy earned hers!

Now time to earn some more Boating Badges…right after this quick photo shoot tho! Brian was getting it in!

Chenoah earned her Boating Badge…

So did Pat & Cass…

All the pups were trying to earn their Boating Badges too!

They were out in full force!

Ranger Larry even took our camp kitty out for a cruise! Willy B just wanted some fish!!

Boating Badge EARNED!

Now time to chill…

Or keep earning more badges…

Nothing gets by Sig Nasty! Gaming Badge EARNED!

TheGoodLife! FC was representing at Camp Nice!

Miranda’s been down since day one!

Willy B knows whats up!

Bree luvs the pups…

Mo loves everyone!

And Willy B loves hunting for chipmunks!

Miranda loves knitting!

Amaya was all love!

Sam is lovely…

Camp Nice is for lovers…

No haters allowed! G-O-O-D-L-I-F-E-!

It was the chillest of chill…

NAMASTE!

And all that good shit…

Speaking of good shit…EDAN brought those records of warmth for our enjoyment…

Ricky was digging the selections!

And EDAN stayed digging for those gems!

Life was lovely!

Blotto’s breakfast tacos were lovely too!

And so is Bree…

Willy gets all the lovin…

Ricky wasn’t mad…

Saftey First says the Substitute Lifeguard…

No worries here…

Blue kept on reeling ’em in!

Pat was just cruizin…

Fun activities for everyone!

Who’s got next??

Still got game…

The Pasta Queens came ready to ball!

Sam got an ill jumpshot!

And they didn’t play around in the kitchen either…

Pasta for everyone! Cooking Badge EARNED!

BOOM!!

More S’Mores!

Best dessert ever!

Then things got LIT!

The tunes were perfect! The Dardy’s came thru!

Then it was time to go find the haunted cabin!

Things started to get weird!

We all needed a hug after that experience…

The freaks definitely come out at night!

The rest of the VT Crew finally joined us and Ranger Larry was there with the warm welcome.

Matt Kruz of the Gnarmads rode his bike up from NYC to join in the festivities! Beer Badge EARNED!!

Ricky definitely earned his Beer Badge too!

Pat shredded every obstacle he found!

And The Dardy’s were showing off their skills too!

Jozie brought her A-Game!

Amanda had a mean shot too!

Back down at the lake water sports were in full effect!

It was popping!

Spirits were definitely high!

Blue was in the zone!

We eat what we catch!

And then we play!

Horseshoe Champs!

Gaming Badge EARNED!

Fireside Stick & Poke…Arts & crafts Badge EARNED!

Mermaid Badge EARNED!

We couldn’t ask for a nicer night! The moon set over the lake was EPIC!

As the morning approached the fog slowly rolled in…

It was pretty eerie but beautiful…

Misty Mornings

Pat was losing his grip…

Emel was in rare form…

Chenoah, The High Priestess, was taking it all in…

Break Night Badge EARNED!

Farnum showed up and decided to move right in! Camp Nice for LIFE!

It wasn’t bad at all…

We weren’t quite ready to leave just yet…

So we grabbed our trusty cruisers and headed down for a final wood run! Thank you Shimano Bike NYC!

It was all downhill from here…

Woodsman Squad!

Everyone pitched in…

Ranger Larry put in some quality time but had to break out….

One last paddle around the lake to say peace to our homie Hubert…

Really gonna miss these Strawberry Sunsets…

And we OUT!

Final catch!

Not to shabby!

Blue was happy!

Set them free…

Last light!

Camp Nice was exceptionally nice this year…

All our hard work definitely paid off but it was now time to finally say goodbye…

Major THANK YOU to all those who supported and survived CAMP NICE! Til next year…