Writing leaves little time for reading.

It would seem like writers would spend their non-writing time reading. However, the stack of unread books on top of my bookcase tell a different story. I will occasionally see a book on the websites I frequent or the bookstores I visit and buy it, telling myself I can’t wait to dive into it.

Apparently, I can, as there are books that have tales to tell, and I’m not always listening.

Don’t get me wrong. I read. I read news online. I read about my friends’ daily lives on Facebook. However, I haven’t spent a lot of time snuggling up with a good book lately, spending time when I’m not at work concentrating on my writing or editing my writing. How can I expect someone to buy my books when I’m not even setting aside time to look at other people’s brilliant stories?

I think Mother Nature was giving me a hint that I should get back to reading more today as rain pelted Shawano. I could have used the time to surf the Internet, but I decided I should put the tech away for a day and get back to the paperbacks.

One book in the stack is a book that my sweetheart, Todd, turned me onto months ago. I first started reading Murder with Fried Chicken and Waffles by A.L. Herbert as I was waiting for the local St. Patrick’s Day parade to begin. There was a foil gum wrapper inserted as a bookmark. I’d read a few chapters since the parade, but I still hadn’t finished it. Today was the day.

In a nutshell, Murder with Fried Chicken and Waffles centers on a restaurant called Sweet Tea in Maryland run by Mahalia Watkins. Instead of serving up tasty meals, however, Mahalia is busy solving a murder, as she discovers the man who helped her start her business in her business. Most people would call the police after discovering a body in their business, but instead, Mahalia and her cousin, Wavonne, remove the body and deposit it elsewhere.

I found myself wondering if Zachary Gagewood, the main protagonist in my books, would ever hide a body like these wacky women would.

I digress, though.

I finished up with that book, and the rain was still in drench mode, so I figured it would be a good time to pick up another book. Even if I didn’t finish it, I knew it’d be good to get lost in another story.

I didn’t realize how lost I’d be, though.

About a year ago, I’d come across a book on Amazon called A Forbidden Rumspringa, written by Keira Andrews. I was intrigued because, even though I’d read a number of same-sex romance novels, this one was different because it took place in an Amish community in Minnesota.

Many Amish communities have the ritual Rumspringa, where Amish youth are allowed to leave the community and experience the modern world—and all its wicked sins—to see if they are truly willing to embrace the Amish way of life and its restrictions. The Amish community in A Forbidden Rumspringa does not embrace that ritual, holding on to more Orthodox ways.

So David and Isaac never had the chance to go out into the real world and learn that the feelings they were feeling for other men was normal and even accepted in some places. Isaac, now an adult, is tasked with being David’s carpentry apprentice, but they soon realize their relationship is meant to be more than employer and employee.

My only regret upon reaching the end of this book was discovering that it was part of a trilogy—and I don’t have the other two books.

I feel strangely energized after taking a little getaway into someone else’s stories. It’ll be interesting to see how much it boosts my own creativity. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m hoping for more rain in the forecast.