Magic

It's magic!

Well, it's not quite finished yet--the straps are just pinned in, because they're too long, and they're not actually felted enough yet. I think I need to do them again, but since this was the first time I'd ever done this, I wasn't sure when to stop. I could probably have felted the bag itself a little longer, too, but it seemed like it was getting too small and I was afraid I'd have a handbag rather than a tote bag!

I love the fact that you don't really know what's going to happen, what it's going to look like when it's finished. I guess maybe it takes away some of the stress involved in creating something--takes away a little bit of the responsibility, which I guess is bad in some ways, but I kind of like the uncertainty, and the surprise when you see how it turns out. Kind of like glazing a pot and waiting to see what it looks like when it comes out of the kiln, or putting some polymer clay beads in the oven to bake. You do what you can to ensure the outcome of the finished product, then give yourself up to the process.

Even though I had become very dissatisfied with Laurell K. Hamilton's "Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter" series, I had put my name on the list at the library to read the latest one, Cerulean Sins. I've been trying to make my way through it, but it just isn't fun anymore, and although I got nearly halfway through it, I'm going to give up and take it back. Thank goodness I didn't actually buy it.

I got curious about whether or not I'd ever finished the previous book in the series, because I remembered feeling the same way about it. Apparently I didn't.

It's always so disappointing when you have a series that you love to read, and wait with anticipation for the next installment, and find it lacking. Most of the time I'll read it anyway, and maybe the next one, but give it up at some point with regret. Although I can't actually think of another example at the moment . . .

Hamilton is a great writer, I think, but somewhere along the way she lost the plot. The series used to be about a woman who lived in St. Louis, although of course an "alternate" St. Louis--one where vampires, along with werewolves and other shapeshifters, lived alongside humans. She had a unique job--she was a supernatural executioner; she went into the office, she interacted with the police, she solved crimes. The books were mysteries with a supernatural twist.

There was some romance, too. She was in love with a werewolf who taught junior high science, and there was a lot of sexual tension between her and the "Master of the City," a centuries-old vampire named Jean-Claude. There was a lot of conflict in her personal life--could she "date" more than one man at a time? Should she have sex with them? She always had this very strong code of ethics, and while it seemed kind of silly at the time--okay, this is a grown-up woman who's agonizing over whether or not to have sex with her boyfriend, werewolf or not--it was based on her religious beliefs, and that attitude was so much better than the attitude she has now, which is to have sex with anyone and everyone (and everything) that crosses her path.

I thought this book might be okay--it started out pretty well, and while I get tired of the vampire "court" thing, okay, they're supposed to be centuries old, I guess they all got started back in the days of powdered wigs and hose for men, so, fine--and there was a rather lovely sex scene with Anita and two men (okay, yes, two men, but they were men with whom she had had long-term friendships and it was a nicely written scene with some emotional involvement), but when, a few pages later on, she was having sex with someone else, I just gave it up.

I don't have anything against sex or erotica, per se, but enough is enough. Someone is always ill or injured and the only way to heal them is for them to have sex with Anita. Or someone is in trouble and the only way to save them is for them to have sex with Anita. Or have a big bubble bath or pile everyone up in the bed, naked, for body warmth. Oh, and she has this "condition" (the ardeur) where she has to have sex something like every four hours, and she's got three or four men on tap to take care of that, and then right before the passage where I stopped reading, she was having some kind of orgasm "flashbacks" every few minutes. Give me a break.

Maybe it's just me. Things change, people change, authors change. Maybe I just got hooked on the series when it was a mystery series, and now that it's an erotic romance series (is that what it is?), it annoys me.