Days without Internet

So I’ve been without Internet for 5 days. Sort of.

I’ve been without Internet at my apartment for 5 days, and it’s not just me: it’s the entire apartment complex. I no longer live in a small complex, either. I traded my small apartment community for a rather large apartment community (though I maintained the small community feel because the buildings are set up in little pentagons and I never have to leave mine except to pay rent), and to have so many buildings lose Internet access completely for five days is just absurd.

But the complex is being told by the service provider that “our Internet is being upgraded.” To me that sounds like, “We broke your Internet and haven’t figured out how to fix it yet.” My Internet connection better be amazing when it comes back — oh, and the service provider still has no rough estimate on when the connection will be back online. So yeah.

So in five days, it’s probably reasonable to assume that I did all kinds of writing because while the Internet has been out, it’s also been storming and sudden rainstorms have been frequent. Totally reasonable to assume writing has happened, and completely wrong. I haven’t written a word in five days with no Internet connection. So what did I do?

Well, I played sand volleyball (which was fun) but I also got a dozen fire ant bites from the same event (less fun). I played a soccer game (which was fun) but we lost pretty  badly (less fun).

Mostly, though, I read books. I read The Stolen and The Chosen by Liz Braswell, which are books 2 and 3 in The Nine Lives of Chloe King series. Those were about what I expected: relatively mindless, a hint of action-y, and several doses of PG kissy face-y. I bought the big volume a few weeks ago to have something to read while soaking my legs in Epsom salt baths; a big paperback volume I wouldn’t cry over if I dropped it in said Epsom salt bath.

On Sunday afternoon, though, I read an ARC that’s been sitting atop my knitting basket: Secret Letters by Leah Scheier. Secret Letters is about a girl named Dora who dreams of meeting her biological father, Sherlock Holmes, and becoming a respected female inspector. When her cousin’s reputation and marriage are threatened by blackmail, Dora sets off to London to hire Holmes for the case, but when she arrives, Holmes is dead. Dora must rely on her own investigative skills, and the help of a rather dashing, much younger detective to protect her cousin.  Really, I think my tweet about it yesterday afternoon sums it up best:

So here’s my official recommendation: if you like strong-willed heroines, Victorian London, mysteries & mayhem, and really, really sexy Victorian banter between inspectors, then definitely grab a copy of this debut YA novel by Leah Scheier. And here’s the cover, because I also really like the cover, and I think it just adds to the appeal:

This week there will be an update for Noveling through Summer for #thatghoststory, and fingers crossed that it’s a very productive update. This afternoon, though, I’m focused on using my Internet in the office productively so maybe tomorrow morning I can write without panicking about all that’s been left undone and unanswered online.

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