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Book Review: The Cinderella Murder

I’m going to take this post in a bit of a different direction today. I know that I have been primarily writing about writing and Disney but I may stray from those topics every now and then. I have several passions. Running and Disney are obviously two of them. Another is reading. I have always been an avid reader. There were summers as a kid where I actually read a few hundred books. They logged it. I was richly rewarded with candy and cheap toys from the library as a part of their summer reading program. The joke was on them, however, I would have done it without the bribe.
I love many different kinds of stories but, as a therapist, I love delving into minds that are quite different from my own. My favorite genre is mystery. I have a couple favorite authors. Chelsea Cain (who is insanely cool to meet in person), Gillian Flynn, and Douglas Preston Lincoln Child are a few of my top ones. 

My post today is about The Cinderella Murder by Mary Higgins Clark and Alafair Burke. I picked the book up at first because I recognized both names. I read Mary Higgins Clark in high school and I follow Alafair Burke on Twitter. I bought the book because the cover sounded amazing. 

I just finished the book less than 30 minutes ago and the only reason I am not running out right now to get the next book in the this series is, well, the stores are probably closed since it’s late on a Sunday and I’m strictly prohibited from buying myself anything until after Christmas. The book is about a television show that chooses cold cases to take a closer look at. They tell you in the beginning that the first one they focused on ended up being solved as a result of the show’s research and discoveries. They have chosen to feature an unsolved murder of an aspiring actress and college student in California. The case features a Hollywood director and even touches on religion and Internet companies. 

I’m not even sure where to start my praise for this book. The main character, Laurie, was a very relatable and likable person. She had flaws an baggage like any real person would. She was strong and smart. She was in television but was not the typical power driven, step on the little guy kind of character you usually see in that kind of position. She had grace, class, and standards. All of that was much like the girl whose murder she was looking into. They provide you with multiple suspects that are for great twists. Each character is handled well and given a true purpose to the story. The chapters are relatively short, which made it easy for me to read with my crazy schedule. The voices of the authors blended very well and I was unable to put it down. I highly recommend this book to any mystery lover and cannot wait to go pick up the second on in the series. 

Frustration

This day did not start or end well. A friend told me that there are no bad days, just hard ones and they do come to an end. I am confident that tomorrow WILL be a better day. That being said, I overslept and did not make it to my weight lifting class so there is no workout to talk about so I am going to mix it up a little bit. 

I am still in a funk. I have been in a funk for, well, I have no idea how long now. Maybe it’s because Disney Vacation is so close yet so far away (18 days, just saying). I have no idea what started it. Running has been one of my biggest bright spots in the week. I feel like I am progressing in that area. I mean I was able to maintain pace with the girls that are generally faster than me Monday night. I feel great in that area. 

Today, work frustrated me. People pretty much always frustrate me. I do have some great friends. (Cheryl, if you are reading this and not just favoriting the posts, you are one of those great people.) I have a wonderful husband and set of in-laws. I’m not unhappy just utterly frustrated. My hours at work are just whatever. They go through ups and downs and I am used to that. 

One of my big frustrations is coming from writing. Growing up writing was for me what running is for me now. I used it to escape everything. My parents arguing all the time, the town I hated, everything. I started writing stories as soon as I was able to put sentences together. I still have my stories I wrote in first grade. I took writing classes in college and it had always been a dream of mine to get published one day. I loved writing. I carried notbooks with me to family get togethers, vacations, and classes. It’s how I worked my own problems out and how I travelled to places I never thought I could ever go. My mother and I have a very difficult relationship. We were fairly close when I was a kid but it hasn’t been that way since I became more independent. We started on our downhill slide when I was in my senior year of college. When I moved back in for grad school, it continued to get worse. I dealt with things like I always did, by writing. My mother found my story and got incredibly angry. I guess it sounded a little too familiar and she confronted me. She was angry and waving the pages (I’m old school, what can I say) in my face. She probably doesn’t remember that even happening but I do. I haven’t been able to write a word of fiction since that day. Lately, I have been getting the itch to write. It’s gotten stronger and stronger but nothing will come out. Talking to the couple of teens I see that write like I did when I was their age makes it even worse. I am determined to break through this brick wall and figure out what I have to say.  Okay that’s all my ranting for the day.  

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