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Kendare Blake & my haunted house

Three Dark Crowns review, my craziest ghost story, and some recent favorites 

Here it is! The first ghost story to be shared on The Book Witch! I have such an enduring love/ hate relationship with the paranormal; Amity Horror documentary and chill? Hell yeah! Am I going to have to watch Tangled to rid myself of visions of Jodie the Demon-Pig? You betcha! I’ve had a fascination with the occult for as long as I can recall being interested in a particular subject. My general expertise of knowledge is can be summed up in Harry Potter trivia, urban legends, paranormal knowledge, fun facts about birth charts, and every book that made me cry (it’s a long list). I am a dabbler in modern magic (hence, The Book Witch) and a student of the more eerie side of humanity. I am also one of the lucky few who always sees ghosts. Ironically, I am not much of a believer of the “other side” but I am hopeful that my loved ones are drinking margaritas with my long-gone fur-babies on some mystical, post-purgatory beach. I went to Catholic school for twelve years and I went down the path of “You hit me with a ruler and I don’t want to do this anymore.”

In addition to being easily scared, I also cry whenever I see a ghost. I think someone down my line of ancestry went “We should make crying a natural reaction to most stimulus in our family” and here I am! I can not handle it. I do not enjoy seeing dead things and I kind of wish they’d keep their distance but, you know, this is fine.

So, here’s the backstory of my house: it was built by my Great-Grandparents (we’ll call them GG because typing Great-Grandparents every time I need to mention them is kind of a bitch) in the 1980’s – it’s not a terribly old house and there’s no previous residents. Coincidentally, they actually died here, in the guest house, and their presence lingered for several years after their deaths (which were two days apart). My GG’s were super rad. They were terribly kind and loving, extremely warm-hearted and generous individuals. My great-grandma used to brush my hair for me when I was little and she continued to play with it even after she passed. The very unique aroma of my Papa’s pipe smoke used to greet us after a long, tough day – a reminder that we were loved even though he couldn’t speak to us anymore.  My mom and I moved into the guest house shortly after my parents’ divorce; I would have been about five or six years old so I’ve been having paranormal experiences for over thirteen years in this house.

The initial problem was “the little girl”. It was a very stereotypical, horror movie-style, dark haired young girl in a white dress. I saw her about every six months. That wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been murdered in a different fashion every time I’ve come in contact with her. I’ve seen this poor kid drowned, hanged, shot, burned, stabbed and strangled. Oddly enough, my mom never saw her but she did pick up the scent of bubblegum whenever the little girl was around. My sister saw her one night and that was pretty traumatizing because I had been hoping the little girl was just a product of my imagination. Alas, my dreams were crushed.

When I was about fifteen years old, shit hit the fan. My house became a scene straight out of Paranormal Activity IIXX. I joke about it now but it was a a nightmare at the time. My little ranch-house had a constant sense of everyone being on edge. We always felt like we were being watched. One of us, my mom or I, could have won the lottery, lost twenty pounds, scored a role in the upcoming Harry Potter film and we would still be angry and sour as soon as we walked in the door. There’s that saying “black cloud hanging over us” and let me tell you, I LIVED THAT SHIT. IT WAS NOT A GOOD TIME. Frames would turn themselves over. Lights would go on and off without any warning. Our dog would bark at the dining room table – you’ve seen the movies.

It got violent the summer before I turned sixteen. My dog had just gotten surgery to repair a hip displacement so my mom and I had to be home a lot to help her go outside and make sure she didn’t trip and die or some shit. It was a July afternoon, probably no later than 3 pm – my mom and my two best friends and I were sitting on the couch watching Adventure Time and talking crap. My dog, who was still very much crippled at this point, stood up – ON LEGS SHE DIDN’T HAVE CONTROL OF – and hobbled to my bedroom door. My door was shut, a valiant effort to keep the cold air located in the living room. Lucky, my sweet broken fur-baby, had her pit-bull haunches up raised and was going bananas at my bedroom door. Barking, snarling, very scary teeth gnashing. So we thought “Oh shit, someone got in through the window”. My mom stands up, goes to grab her hand-gun, and my pit-bull yelps, drops down on her butt, and scoots away from the door. My mom wasn’t even able to reach her gun before it went down. The sounds of wood splintering, plastic breaking, and glass shattering all came – condensed – from my room. It was like there had been a massive earthquake – that only affected those parameters. I was terrified – what if someone really had gotten in and was ransacking my space? My mom rushed over, opened the door, and stood there – totally baffled. It looked like someone, or something, had furiously taken their arms and pushed everything off every surface in my room. My desk, my hope chest, bookshelves, and trophy shelves had all been cleared. Everything aside, this could be written off as a freak wind storm or a poorly done robbery – except the window was still locked from the inside and there was a thirty pound printer that had been thrown two feet away. It was a deeply upsetting experience and I didn’t sleep in that room for the next two years, until we got our house cleansed by a Paiute shaman.

Interestingly enough, the little girl and my GG’s hadn’t been around since the start of whatever that was… When we had the house cleansed, I started seeing the little girl again. I think my GG’s “moved on” once my Mimi, their daughter, passed away almost three years ago.

If anyone has any ideas or theories as to what happened during the ten months we lived in a very active home – PLEASE let me know. I’ve been trying to come up with an explanation for years but I’ve come up with a thousand possibilities and no concrete reasons.

The Book Witch’s Three Dark Crowns Review

3-dark-crowns

I’ll start this off by saying that my reviews don’t contain spoilers. The point of me talking about a book is to encourage others to read. I post highlights to help fellow readers find something new and lowlights to help everyone steer away from books they might avoid on principle. If you aren’t familiar with Kendare Blake, I suggest you go get a copy of Anna Dressed in Blood, right now. It’s one of my favorite YA Horror Books. I would describe it as Supernatural meets Warm Bodies. She also wrote Anti-Goddess, which I unfortunately haven’t read but its on my To-Read List.

Three Dark Crowns is about triplet girls born with mystical gifts, who must spend a lifetime in training and a year isolated together – so that one can kill the other two and become queen. Usually that queen will give birth to another set of triplets and then retire her queenly duties. In this generation, there’s Arisnoe, the naturalist, Katharine, the poisoner, and Mirabella, the elemental. The story follows each individual queenling as they train, under supervision, to kill her sister.

Highlights – These characters are beautiful. Their personality traits are layered in a way that I thought they wer puzzle pieces of one incredibly complex person. The supplemental characters are written in that amazingly layered way, as well. A lot of the story actually focuses on the friends and backstories of the queens’ guardians and the entire story is a wonderful political web. The story is dark and the plot is very unique. I have honestly never read another novel like it. In addition, Blake crafts some beautiful alternate realities. I can really appreciate a well-written universe. I tried to read Six of Crows and had to put him aside based on the fact that I couldn’t sufficiently put myself into the world of Ketterdam. The romance in TDC broke my freaking heart. There’s so many romantic elements in this story but they all connect and criss-cross in the most devious ways. They’re truly devastating. This was one of those books that I couldn’t put down. I felt a vast array of emotions which, in my opinion, is the mark of a damn good story.

Low-lights – THE ENDING. Okay, that’s not entirely true. The ending was perfect but it was such a cliff hanger. NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG. The torment is unimaginable.

Recent Favorites

bellatrix

My fiance took me to see Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and I cannot get over how much I adore that movie. I recommend that film like I recommend air. It was gorgeous – AND JOHNNY DEPP WAS THERE, TOO! IT WAS A MASSIVE LOVE CHILD OF MY FAVORITE THINGS. I cried when “Hedwig’s Theme” came on – my poor Jason hasn’t ever seen me on the premier of anything Potter related and I knew he had some idea of what he signed up for, but maybe not to the extent of how intense it was. Honestly, I cried from start to finish. Newt and Credence are sweet, cinnamon rolls who must be protected. Protect them. Jason and I have a theory about the four main characters being the archetypes of the Hogwart’s houses. I even bought a shirt and am currently trying to find a fellow nerd to go see it with me again. 

Another little Potter-themed thing I’ve been loving is my 2017 Planner from ArabellaFigg. I saw Bellatrix on the cover and my Black triad obsessed heart skipped a beat. It was love at first sight. It’s the perfect size, too. Small enough to carry everywhere and pretend that I’m Andromeda – big enough to fit all my daily duties.

I’ve also been obsessed with Podcasts; I recently discovered the Podcast section on my Spotify menu and I’m totally hooked. Here are some I’ve been listening to all day every day:

Paranormal / Urban Legend

Spirits ; Just A Story ; Paranormal Podcast

Bookish

Dear Book Nerd ; What Should I Read Next

Hope everyone has a great week! Leave a comment if you have a haunting tale, a favorite podcast you’d like to share, or let me know if my next purchase should be Coleen Hoover or Paula Brackston

Love,

The Book Witch

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date a girl who reads

…or writes, or paints, or makes cool shit.

I got some goodies in the mail today and I was so eager to post pictures that I jammed through my latest project, a DIY upcyled Kindle case.

 

fullsizerender-12fullsizerender-11 Jay and I spent our night making our Christmas budget and I’m still a giant bag of chestnuts over the holiday season – no matter how expensive they get as an adult. I might have started my Christmas shopping prior to making our list and checking it twice. There is no better excuse to go to a bookstore than Christmas. I won’t post the hard-backed bundles of happiness I got for my loved ones (they could be reading my blog RIGHT THIS SECOND) but I will tell everyone about a this very intriguing YA novel that I stumbled up – Save Me, Kurt Cobain by Jenny Manzer. Honey, you had me at “Nevermind”. Being a product of the early 90’s and adult influences from the grunge-era, I have long sinced admired a little band called Nirvana. I miss Kurt Cobain and Johnny Cash in certain places of my soul that probably shouldn’t exist, on principle. I tried to fill the hole in my soul with Pearl Jam and the Foo Fighters (I mean, Dave is kind of a walking tribute to Kurt) but nothing warms my cold, dead heart like a box shaped like one. In short, I am super super excited for this book. It’s new, its unique, it’s edgy. Here’s the synapse for those of you who love a contemporary, coming-of-age novel like I do:

“Nico Cavan has been adrift since her mother vanished when she was four—maternal abandonment isn’t exactly something you can just get over. Staying invisible at school is how she copes—that and listening to alt music and summoning spirits on the Ouija board with her best friend and co-conspirator in sarcasm, Obe. But when a chance discovery opens a window onto her mom’s wild past, it sparks an idea in her brain that takes hold and won’t let go.

On a ferry departing Seattle, Nico encounters a slight blond guy with piercing blue eyes wearing a hooded jacket. Something in her heart tells her that this feeling she has might actually be the truth, so she follows him to a remote cabin in the Pacific Northwest. When she is stranded there by a winter storm, fear and darkness collide, and the only one who can save Nico might just be herself.” 

If you’ll take a gander at the photos above, you’ll see my new babies in all their perfect glory. I found that gorgeous Potter-inspired tablet cover on Klevercase. They come in a variety of designs and sizes, some of them are even able to be customized. I did order a slightly smaller size than what I needed for my tablet but my Nook stays secure, so no harm done! Those adorable Hocus Pocus, bibliophile, and A Court of Mist and Fury bookmarks you see are from NerdyGirl Design.

Lastly, there’s my DIY project – the upcycled astrology book turned Kindle case. Normally, I’m a stickler for avoiding the desecration of books at all costs but since I do have a full shelf full of more modern astrology books, it didn’t hurt my soul nearly as bad as I thought it would. Not that I didn’t completely enjoy The Astrologer’s Handbook – I’ve already taken all the necessary notes from other sources. And… it’s such a beautiful cover. In case you haven’t already guessed, the fabric I used for the inside of the case was an impromptu purchase. I saw that shit on the shelf and I fell in little-old-lady-who’s-obsessed-with-fabrics love. I have a great appreciation for the symbolism of deer – from Harry Potter to the rustic way I grew up – deer are ever present in my life. I adore them.

On the same note of very specific things I adore, I’d like to introduce ya’ll to three of my most loved books / series.

Wicked Lovely series – Melissa Marr

Rule #3: Don’t stare at invisible faeries.
Aislinn has always seen faeries. Powerful and dangerous, they walk hidden in the mortal world. Aislinn fears their cruelty – especially if they learn of her Sight – and wishes she were as blind to their presence as other teens.

Rule #2: Don’t speak to invisible faeries.
Now faeries are stalking her. One of them, Keenan, who is equal parts terrifying and alluring, is trying to talk to her, asking questions Aislinn is afraid to answer.

Rule #1: Don’t ever attract their attention.
But it’s too late. Keenan is the Summer King, who has sought his queen for nine centuries. Without her, summer itself will perish. He is determined that Aislinn will become the Summer Queen at any cost — regardless of her plans or desires.

Suddenly none of the rules that have kept Aislinn safe are working anymore, and everything is on the line: her freedom; her best friend, Seth; her life; everything.

Faery intrigue, mortal love, and the clash of ancient rules and modern expectations swirl together in Melissa Marr’s stunning twenty-first-century faery tale.

The love I have for this series is insane, absolutely bonkers. Melissa Marr is my favorite human being, other than Queen Rowling, in the field of literature. One time she liked one of my tweets, and I framed it. I shit you NOT. The second book in this series, Ink Exchange, is what got my twelve year old heart settled on a life of tattoos and indie record shops. Now wait, you say, is this a book for pre-adolescent humans? Probably not! I actually grabbed Wicked Lovely by accident on an emergency pilgrimage to Barnes & Noble prior to a family trip. I was reading way ahead of my age group (thanks, private schooling and a deep fear of social interaction!) by this time, anyway. It did take me until I was about sixteen to fully understand the political ties in the series. I give the Wicked Lovely quartet a five-star rating, forever and always.

Second Glance – Jodi Picoult

“In a small Vermont town, an old man puts a piece of land up for sale, igniting a firestorm of protest from the local Abenaki Indians, who insist it is an ancient burial ground. To appease them the developer looking to buy the property hires a ghost hunter, Ross Wakeman. Ross is a suicidal drifter desperate to cross paths again with his fiancee, who died in a car crash eight years earlier. But after several late nights all Ross can lay claim to discovering is Lia Beaumont, a skittish, mysterious woman who, like Ross, is on a search for something beyond the boundary separating life and death. Thus begins Picoult’s enthralling and ultimately astonishing story of love, fate and a crime of passion. SECOND GLANCE, her eeriest and most engrossing work yet, delves into a virtually unknown chapter of American history, Vermont’s eugenics project of the 1920s and 30s, to provide a compelling study of the things that come back to haunt us – literally and figuratively. Do we love across time, or in spite of it?”

If you’ve ever enjoyed the world of writing that is Jodi Picoult, you know this book comes with neck-breaking plot twists, a heart-wrenching story, and a multiple character point-of-view. This story is so much more than a love story, it’s about civil rights, modern Native American issues, and a mystery. If you enjoy a book that borders on the edge of surreal, this is the one for you. It earns a strong 4.5 on my rating scale.

Looking for Alaska – John Green

“Before. Miles “Pudge” Halter is done with his safe life at home. His whole life has been one big non-event, and his obsession with famous last words has only made him crave “the Great Perhaps” even more (Francois Rabelais, poet). He heads off to the sometimes crazy and anything-but-boring world of Culver Creek Boarding School, and his life becomes the opposite of safe. Because down the hall is Alaska Young. The gorgeous, clever, funny, sexy, self-destructive, screwed up, and utterly fascinating Alaska Young. She is an event unto herself. She pulls Pudge into her world, launches him into the Great Perhaps, and steals his heart. Then. . . . After. Nothing is ever the same.”

John Green’s characters are soooooo good. They all have unique quirks and very special personalities. Say what you will about manic pixie dream girls, but Mr. Green writes a damn good book. Miles goes to college and comes back a completely different person, based on completely horrendous and unexpected circumstances. It’s not your typical coming-of-age story and if you’re looking for a plot twist that will absolutely destroy you, this is the book. The characters are relate-able on a level that keeps you interested but not too far removed. Bless you, John Green , you horrible man with your heart breaking books.

These authors are in my top five humans of literature. They are actual gods and goddesses of written words; they changed my literary preferences forever. Wicked Lovely got me entirely hooked on darker, politicized fae series – I would have never been interested in anything Sarah J Maas wrote if I hadn’t found Aislinn and the gang, first. Second Glance was my gateway to paranormal fiction and contemporary fiction. I have read every Jodi Picoult novel, some even twice or three times, but the subtle creepiness of S.G is what sealed its rightful place as “Most Favorite Picoult Work”. Looking for Alaska was my gateway to John Green. Who doesn’t need a bit of John (and subsequently, Hank) Green in their lives and subconscious? Fellow Nerdfighters, I’m looking at you.

If you have read anything mentioned in this post, let me know your thoughts in the comments and please feel more than welcome to share your “I-don’t-lend-these-to-mere-mortals” book list, too.

have a splendid weekend, I’ll be telling some ghost stories next week so stay tuned!

The Book Witch

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a lesson in love and lord of the rings

Relationships are strange. Most interactions with other human beings are strange. Romance, by far, happens to be the strangest phenomenon to occur to someone. Romance is strange in the sense that we find another human who makes us feel a little more alive and we go “I’m going to buy you things, learn all your strange nuances, and then maybe someday we’ll go see another human who will write our names on a piece of paper and then our relatives will interrogate us about making more humans for the next thirty years!”

The first marriage was recorded 4,300 years ago; the first wedding ring was discovered in Egypt and dated back to 2,800 BCE. Marriage has been around for centuries to guarantee the survival of our species and encourage economic strength. In essence, we’ve been picking each other since the start of humanity because our great-great-great-great-great grandparents knew that there was something exceedingly intricate and monumental about sticking with someone until you died.

I did not ever plan on picking Jason. He was so far out of my league – he was a knight in shining armor and I was more like Maleficent. He was one of my best friends, I could ask him for anything and he would have it on my doorstep within an hour. But… he had no tattoos, did not drive a motorcycle, stayed far away from illegal substances, and he was so disgustingly wholesome. I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend because I thought “Meh, it won’t last long and at least I can write ‘I dated the Golden Boy’ in my resume”

Four (almost five) years and my grandmother’s engagement ring later, it turns out he was my other half this whole time. America’s olive-skinned, lifeguard-turned-EMT by day, gamer geek with a fierce love of anime and Pokemon by night. It’s like Superman too off the outfit and was secretly a hybrid of Peter Parker and Legolas.

I get a lot of shit for getting married at the ripe old age of twenty-two (and for persistently saying “no kids, thanks” but that’s a bitch fit for another day). I’m surprised that someone has yet to tear down my door whilst hysterically yelling “How dare you ruin the sanctity of marriage, you millennial tyrant?! Don’t you know the requirements of holy matrimony in the 21st century are a broken home, a 12.5 ex lovers, and a soul-crushing need for self-assurance?” Jay and I both had our fair share of exes; he talks to approximately none of his and I’m on okay (tentative) terms with one of mine. We are both the kind of individuals who love and love and love until we make ourselves sick. I learned several years ago that I can’t let other people decide my interests or activities for me. To be healthy and happy, I have to be myself. Jay had to learn that people are sometimes so careless with others, they’ll destroy you to save themselves.

Not to be that person, but we’re kind of over being treated like doormats so we band together in mutual understanding of the word “hurt” and protect each other like guard dogs.

Jay has seen me at my worst – during bouts of addiction, helplessness, and grief. Grief was the worst. Grieving is not as simple as sticking your toe in the water and saying “too cold”. Grief is a miserable, frigid river; it ebbs through daily life and floods when you least expect it. It has rip currents at every damn turn and will drag you under before you even know the tears are running down your cheeks. People who say that grief is temporary have never lost a parent or a soulmate or a best friend so don’t listen to them. Jason introduced me to Lord of the Rings, Zelda, and Sword Art Online. I can be an absolute nightmare, a walking storm of hormones and exhaustion, and he will still be my mountain with a cup of tea in one hand and a grilled cheese in the other. He’s the string on my kite; he accepts me, not some grand romantic notion of me but overly-sensitive-I-hate-everyone-where’s-my-coffee-now-I’m-crying me. He takes videos of my tirades to make me laugh later, tolerates trips to Grassroots Books, and holds my hand when I need to pee in the middle of the night but “I told you not to watch that scary movie before bed, babe. C’mon it’s okay”

The greatest thing about getting married young is the aspect of growth. Jay and I are completely different human beings than when we met. We let our roots grow together. At times, it felt like we were going to have to uproot the whole arboretum but he has helped me mature from a quiet rainstorm to an entire ocean. On the flip side, I’d like to think I helped him grow from a single hillside to a marvelous canyon. I get to be proud of my best friend every day.

The first gift he got me for an anniversary was a custom bookshelf. This last year, he found me a glass case of eighteen perfectly preserved butterflies.  To me, those feel a hell of a lot more like a promise than “finding myself” ever would.

Unfortunately, many of my friends do not understand my position. With the commitment of a shared life, there comes a lot more nights at home, with pizza, and my man-child – and less nights of random drives to the lake or Virginia City. This is culmination of several factors, such as four A.M at work or piles of laundry that need some attention. I still have extraordinary adventures, but they’re usually Sunday morning breakfast in our PJ’s or seeing the new Batman movie together. My adventures are less about blowing off steam and more about making memories with my best friend. You win some, you lose some. I’ve learned that the friends worth keeping are going to understand my need for quiet and mundane activities.

Stay tuned – I’ll be posting a book review and some ghost stories, soon!

The Book Witch

Currently reading: Three Dark Crowns: Kendare Blake & Scrappy Little Nobody: Anna Kendrick

 

 

 

 

 

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come one, come all

This is the third blog that I’ve started this year. The first one was a project with my sister – she needed a place to decompress and I knew that she wouldn’t sit down to unload her brain if I didn’t, as well. Neither of us sat down more than twice in the span of six months. The next blog I started was a pre-wedding beauty and fitness blog. I’m on this fantastic journey to be my physical best before September 9th, 2017 (298 days, but who’s counting?) – I thought recording my discoveries and progress was going to inspire me to keep going. Four posts and a very deep sense of ignorance later, I stopped working on that blog, too.

I kept running my failed blog attempts through my mind, picking them apart and trying to understand what went so horribly wrong. Was I disappointed that my sarcasm never seems to translate well over text? Are my photo taking skills so sub-par that I couldn’t bare to put them on the internet? Was I afraid to get married?! 

None of these explanations – and about fifty more – seemed to be a light-bulb moment. So, for months I believed that I would never be able to enjoy being a blogger.

My “aha!” realization happened when I contemplated starting a paranormal / book review YouTube channel. Cue the 80’s movie record scratch, yup, that’s me. Why should I start a new project that I’m totally uncomfortable with – you think sarcasm translates poorly over a written platform, try listening to me speak into a camera – when I hadn’t even tried writing about something I actually enjoyed.

What was missing from my first two blog attempts? Passion. It’s that simple! I’m not a “let’s talk about our days” conversationalist and I’m certainly not a beauty or fitness blogger so why was I masquerading as something that I’m not? Sure, I’m still trying to kick ass on my pre-wedding health journey (298 DAYS BUT WHO’S COUNTING HAHA) and if you ask me about my day you’ll probably regret it after the first “Ugh, so this bitch…”. But, by no means do I enjoy writing about those topics. I felt like a meddler. This is not to discourage anyone from pursuing a new hobby or goal, by any means. I, personally, am not an individual who sticks to a new adventure if I’m not interested in the bones of the topic. Call me a quitter, but I know what I like. To give you all some insight on my interests, here’s a comprehensive list of things that I’m “good at”:

  • using a Harry Potter reference in every conversation
  • buying an absurd amount of books / book related items
  • looking at someone’s birth chart and saying “Oh, OKAY, so that’s why you’re like this”
  • self-identifying as the love child of John Mulaney, Chandler Bing, & Morticia Addams
  • fighting anyone who f*^%s with my sister or my dog
  • having a fiance who’s very annoyed with the large quantity of candles in our home (but BAAABBE it’s pumpkin sppppiiiicccee)
  • eating an ungodly amount of grilled cheese from Grateful Gardens
  • drinking a gallon of coffee or approx. 5 lattes per 24 hour period
  • watching documentaries on morbid topics (serial killers! The Black Dahlia! Amityville!)
  • obsessing over future additions to my sleeve
  • attracting paranormal phenomenon
  • collecting oddities – crystals, bones, pretty fabrics, notebooks, children’s Halloween movies, assorted teas
  • DIY projects
  • plotting Halloween costumes & Christmas gifts in June
  • falling in love with fictional characters
  • crying (usually over dogs or fanfiction)
  •  being cranky in the months surrounding October – January
  • surprising myself with how much of an old lady I am

If you don’t like topics that deal with unusual concepts, this blog isn’t for you

If you’ve never read a book and felt a sadness settle deep into your bones at the end, this blog isn’t for you

If you shy away from topics like marriage and relationships, this blog isn’t for you

If you don’t like sarcasm, sass, or dark humor – I recommend leaving now.

I hope everyone is as excited for this new adventure as I am; please stay tuned, there will be so much more to come.

Thanks for stopping by,

The Book Witch

 

 

 

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