Beach Reading

Summer is fantastic for two reasons.  1. Slurpees.  2. Summer reading.

One of my favorite things to do is drag around a novel and pick through it.  I might take it to a park and read under a tree.  Throw it in a beach bag, but forget it’s even there, because I’m busy eating junk food or acting like a goof.

Not just any book either.  It has to be memorable.  How about light fare that makes you tinkle with laughter at the unrealistic escapades or gawk at the similarities to your own hilarious (crazy ass) situations.  Think Roberts, Fielding, Kinsella or Lipman.

Maybe it’s heavy shit that makes you want to tear your guts out, but it’s all okay once you reach for that Corona, because it really isn’t your life and hell, it’s sunny!  Atwood, Walker, Sebold or Allende come to mind.

It’s my season.  I’m viciously against shoes that hike above the ankle.  I have more goose bumps per square footage on my body than the average person.  I feel the cold.

Oh, bring on late sunsets and zinc smelling SPF!

Wait!  This just in, a third reason to love summer.  YOU.

Something is abuzz in the writing world.  More and more, I am floored by the female talent emerging  Or maybe it was always there?

Either way, this summer I want to my give my blog to you.

I want your travel narratives.

I want your blood. Bring it.

Witty.  Amusing.  Heart wrenching.  Fall-off-your-stool stories.

Frankly girls, I just need something good to read over the summer.

See post schedule below:

May

Week 1 and 2: Love with that hot backpacking guy or girl. Do tell.
Week 3 and 4: Dating the locals. Did you?

June

Week 1 and 2: Our little friend, the period. How did you deal in a foreign country?
Week 3 and 4: Beauty, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Whether you struggled with your own or someone else’s.  Not limited to grooming, but the concept.

July

Week 1 and 2: Your first time.  Not sex, perverts, when you went solo.
Week 3 and 4: When you paired up or signed up for that Contiki tour.

August

Week 1 and 2: The day I was [mugged] [kicked ass].
Week 3 and 4: When you tried something that scared the bejesus out of you. Think skydiving, getting on a boat with no life-jacket, climbing waterfalls, even communicating in a new language.  Something that forced you to go beyond your comfort zone.

*May is not technically the beginning of summer, but it doesn’t hurt to introduce sangria pitchers early.

*Post day:  I’m aiming for every Wednesday.

Who are you?

If everyone knows your name, that’s great and I envy and despise you.  This series is meant to showcase those writers who don’t grab the spotlight on a regular basis.  Right now, I’m seeking stories from female scribes only.  If you’re a man who feels like a woman and wants to participate, I’m sorry.  Next time, I promise!

Do you want to toss your story in the ring?

Send an email to nomadic.chick@gmail.com with the subject line of the topic, i.e. dating the locals.  Include an MS Word or .txt attachment with an author bio, including links to your site and social media.  Length should be approximately 1,000 to 2,5000 words, but if slightly less or more, I won’t flame you or anything.

If I use your story, please provide some arty photos that support the words, about two or three.  Not necessarily “me” photos, but a visual that punches up your narrative.  If they aren’t yours, be sure to add the photo credit in your email.

What else?

Thanks to those who contribute!  I’m really stoked to support some very talented women.

Photo: aafromaa