Angst in April, Murder in May // (in book form of course)

Hey, kids! It’s June, it’s summer (in the Northern Hemisphere), and I’m back!

I’m sure you were all very worried, to the point of sending out search parties and inquiring where the checks for funeral contributions could be sent, but I am not, in fact, dead or even missing, and if you had no fear of either and are in fact surprised to hear it’s been over a month since I last posted…mate, same.

It’s good to be back, though, catch up on some of y’all’s lovely posts (at least reading, maybe not commenting – query: why does commenting take so much mental energy?), and talk about the books that I read this past April and May!

// Orbiting Jupiter // Gary D. Schmidt

So…I have really complicated thoughts on this one.

Actually, really, they’re not complicated. They’re just confused. Really, really confused.

For starters, probably not good timing on my part reading this? There was a thing that made me sad, and if I had read it at some time in the past or some time in the future it maybe wouldn’t have made me so sad, but as it was I finished it, set it down, stared at the sunset out my window, and screamed (mentally), “WHAT WAS THE POINT?!”

(Please don’t explain about theme & symbolism &c. I got that. I just don’t care. I don’t normally feel this way, but, like, you know what love and self-sacrifice and all those noble things don’t fix? THE FACT THAT – well, spoilers. But I’m still angry about this.)

However, to actually talk about the book and not just my unreasonable feelings thereupon, it was…I don’t know. It didn’t enrapture me like Okay for Now and The Wednesday Wars (or even Pay Attention, Carter Jones). There wasn’t that same delightful narrative voice. There wasn’t that same level of realness – real characters, real settings, real problems with real humans struggling through them.

I mean, I guess the problems were pretty real – child abuse, prejudice, loneliness, being a father when you are 100% Not Ready. But the way the book approached them just wasn’t the same??

Books about Issues do this a lot, I think. The problem takes the spotlight. All character moments are either intensely sad or heartwarming – there’s no in-between space for that reminder of the regular part of life. Laughing. Kidding around. Being scared of stupid things. Just doing stupid stuff because you’re a kid and you’re discovering life in all its sweet, mundane unimportance. Leave out that stuff and you leave out the real flavor of the thing – and hence the possibility for the heartbreak you seem so anxious to induce. I can’t break my heart over something that isn’t quite solid to my touch.

What I’m trying to say is, Orbiting Jupiter is a very sweet and sad story about a thirteen-year-old who’s experienced things no thirteen-year-old should, his quest to find his baby daughter Jupiter, and foster siblings to, as an excellent sponge once put it, melt your heart. Except that I personally found it rather dry. And then the ending made me mad. So.

But then I’m confused, because I talked about it with the lovely lady who told me to read it, and although she felt just as betrayed by the ending as I did (imagine staying up late to finish it one night when your husband and kids aren’t home and getting to THAT at ONE IN THE MORNING and then the book being OVER), and while explaining what she loved so much about it, she said something along the lines of, “I’m not saying what they did was right. I mean, it wasn’t right. It was wrong. But before, I would have scoffed. I would have thought, ‘You’re thirteen. What do you know about love? You don’t know anything about love.’ But they did know. They got it. Better than so many of us, who are adults, and think we know.”

Sadly that is not her actual words, which were better, but what I remember of the gist of what she said. Which…kind of made me appreciate the book a lot more. So.

I’m still mad and I’d still recommend Okay for Now instead.

// On Stories // C. S. Lewis

Some critics seem to confuse growth with the cost of growth and also to wish to make that cost far higher than, in nature, it need be.

-from “On Three Ways of Writing for Children,” Lewis talking about why you don’t need to “grow out of” things like fairy tales and optimism and happy endings

He does not despise real woods because he has read of enchanted woods: the reading makes all real woods a little enchanted.

-also from “On Three Ways of Writing for Children”; beautiful, isn’t it? talking about why adults needn’t worry unduly that reading fantasy will make kids discontented with their ordinary mortal lot

“But why,” (some ask) “why, if you have a serious comment to make on the real life of men, must you do it by talking about a phantasmagoric never-never land of your own?” Because, I take it, one of the main things the author wants to say is that the real life of men is of that mythical and heroic quality.

-from Lewis’s review of The Lord of the Rings, the entirety of which is fabulous

Those are, alas, the only quotes I wrote down, but also included is a tribute to Dorothy Sayers, written soon after her death, through which her personality, and Lewis’s respect and affection, shine. And an essay about criticizing what you don’t like and why you really mostly shouldn’t, about which Sam wrote a whole glorious post that you should read. And the titular essay, which is interesting and well-expressed and YES, that is the indefinable element I look for in certain stories, beyond even deep character or beautiful writing, and YES, there is another type of reader who just…doesn’t and we will never quite understand each other. And so, so much more! Call now to get 30% off your first –

Just read it.

// Detection Unlimited // Georgette Heyer

Not since The Murder of Roger Ackroyd have I been so utterly BETRAYED by a mystery writer.

(This is even worse, really, because Georgette Heyer’s characters are better than Agatha Christie’s.)

Have you ever noticed, and wondered about, the way the murder victim in murder mysteries is almost always a thoroughly nasty person that nobody is really sad to see dead?

I’ve wondered this a lot. There are some possible reasons, like that this gives more people motives, which is nice for the mystery writer trying to bamboozle readers, and that it’s probably just realistic for nasty people to get murdered more often than nice people, but I have come up with a theory that I like better. I think the reason is so that the story can’t get bogged down in grief. Because grief is going to be focused on the dead person, but what the mystery writer actually wants to focus on is the person who did the killing.

Since nobody’s overwhelming grief over the little “pocket Hitler” who died in this book was clouding the atmosphere, you had no particular rancor toward his murderer – though, of course, one really shouldn’t go around murdering people – and so there was nothing in the way of your regarding the murderer as a person rather than a monster.

And because I happened to get attached to the murderer, I really thought about what it means for a person to be a murderer. And it was really sad.

For the murderer.

Like. I’m not explaining this well. But Father Brown showed me that a murder mystery can be a really cool vehicle for exploring a question of morality, and this was similar to that except…different.


You know how it’s pretty easy for us to be heartbroken over human suffering? But not so easy to be heartbroken over human sin? (When we say we’re heartbroken over sin, we actually mostly mean we’re heartbroken over the suffering caused by sin. Which is still the first type of heartbreak.) We tend to get angry over sin a lot more than heartbroken.

And it’s not wrong to be angry about sin. But also, it’s right to be heartbroken. Like God is.

And that’s what this book made me think – how sad, to be a sinner. How sad, to commit a sin. Quite apart from the consequences of it, you know? How very sad, how horrifying, to take another human life, not just because it was taken, but because you were the one who reached out and took it.

It’s like something Chesterton would make you think, except it was Georgette Heyer.

(So kudos to Georgette Heyer.)

As to the actual story, it was quite good. Clever. A man was shot in a small English country village, in his garden, at a time of day when a number of people who didn’t like him could conceivably have been out and about shooting people. There are altogether too many suspects, and the weapon is altogether too common: a .22 rifle.

Personalities clash, young people fall in love, the village’s oldest inhabitant is a nuisance, the murdered man’s niece is unbearably (suspiciously?) saintly, and Gavin Plenmeller, the town’s resident myster writer, goes around being nastily sarcastic to everyone and overjoyed to find himself a suspect in a real mystery case.

Meanwhile Inspectors Hemingway and Harbottle have got to narrow down their suspects somehow. Which sha’n’t be a problem, because Hemingway (as he will not scruple to remind you) has flair.

// A Matter of Days // Hugh Ross

Not much to say about this one except that it’s about creation, including why the author considers the “days” of creation long periods of time rather than regular 24-hour days (and why the beginning of Genesis shouldn’t be regarded as the only Scriptural passage that talks authoritatively about creation) and the evidence, both scientific and Biblical, for this point of view.

And just, wow astronomy is cool. Creation is cool. It’s…so cool. I can’t.

// Duplicate Death// Georgette Heyer

‘Tis Chief Inspector Hemingway again, this time investigating a scandalous high-society London strangling with the help of Inspector Grant, an excellent detective save for his annoying Highland habit of spouting Gaelic at his superior. There is blackmail, there is drugs, there is Terrible Timothy all grown up, what a surprise!

Terrible Timothy, if you don’t know, is from a much earlier Heyer mystery, They Found Him Dead, which used to be my favorite one, not because of the mystery itself which frankly wasn’t good at all, but because…well, because of Alicia and Jim mostly, and Rosemary being entertainingly awful. And also Terrible Timothy, a fourteen-year-old with a conniving mind and a fascination with American gangster films (this was written in the 1920s by the way) who wanted very much to help the poor harassed Sergeant Hemingway solve the murder. So it was pretty fun to see him again.

Also he’s now fallen in love with a girl named Beulah, the surprisingly awesome possessor of a whole lot of spunk and sourness, not to mention a mysterious past and current status of Prime Suspect.

I enjoyed this book, but I would’ve enjoyed it even more if it had just been Timothy and Beulah arguing about whether he should marry her since he doesn’t know anything about her (his opinion being that he totally definitely should).

// Message from Málaga // Helen MacInnes

I adore Helen MacInnes so much.

She’s such a good writer????

Like, you should have seen me devouring this book. I don’t devour books any more. I’m a busy adult with a fractured attention span (it depresses me every time I think about it) who usually only reads at night and who needs her sleep because she has much stuff that needs doing. And who nevertheless spent her entire day (while she wasn’t at work) reading this.

Because I was so worried, you guys. I was so worried.

So do you need a Cold War spy thriller set in Andalusia with Cuban defectors, KGB agents, secret assassination societies, and flamenco dancers in your life? Do you need Tavita, who is melodramatic and ridiculously intelligent and helps Communist defectors for her brother’s sake, because remember Spain had a civil war and it wasn’t pretty? Do you need a sweet, rational, disillusioned American college student who’s decided to go do something worthwhile (and highly dangerous) with her life? Do you need a soft-spoken police captain trying to get a handle on all this spy chicanery going on in his jurisdiction? Do you need a pretty average main character who’s selfish and judgmental but at least he’s also intelligent and skeptical, and ooh, hey, look, he actually admitted he was selfish, and oh, look, he’s capable of appreciating others and being compassionate and okay, he’s not actually that bad by the end?

Do you need a plot that involves ancient secret passages between houses in Granada and double agents and cyanide spray-guns and will give you a heart attack from prolonged stress over are these characters gonna make it? are they gonna be okay?


You do! You know you do!

Helen MacInnes has this…way of capturing the people of a particular place, their culture, their prejudice, their flavor. I wouldn’t know if it’s true, since I’ve never been to Andalusia, or Greece, or Brittany, but it feels so true. It feels so respectful because it feels so appreciative. Like she loves these people, like they’re her friends and she thinks their culture beautiful and their history important.

So I really like that. I think it’s the final touch that makes her books not just fun spy thrillers for me, but also really good books.

Wow, there was a real dearth of fantasy and classics these last two months. Which I often think are my most-read genres?? I guess breaks are good, though. And I’ve been craving murder mysteries. Do y’all ever just…really really want to read a good murder mystery and nothing else, for like no reason whatsoever? What good (and not-so-good) books have you been reading this spring?

Published by sarahseele

A Christian, cat owner, college kid, and writer. Fond of stories. Fond of rain.

17 thoughts on “Angst in April, Murder in May // (in book form of course)

  1. Sarah! *tackle hug* It is so good to read a post from you! Man, what IS it about comments that are so hard to write? A few weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night feeling horrible so I binge read a bunch of your posts, felt much better, and went back to sleep. Still forgot to comment, blast it. They were great, though!

    I haven’t read any of these, but now I really want to read a mystery. Preferably one of these. *looks at the million books I just got from the library* Soon, if not right now.

    Okay, those quotes from Lewis? WOW. He says things that I didn’t even realize I felt.

    I hadn’t thought of y the difference between being angry and being heartbroken about sin. This might be my new favorite thing. You made it make so much sense and made me FEEL so much through your words. That is amazing. I am going to see the world differently from now on!

    Reading has been so slow for me, and my memory is too full of Math and Science so I don’t even remember if I HAVE read anything exciting. Oh well….


    1. Hey, MC!!!! It’s awesome to hear from you too! In fact, I kind of think this is one of my favorite comments I’ve ever gotten, don’t ask me why. It’s probably being tackle-hugged. XD (also, aww thank you! That makes me happy! And hey, never feel bad for not commenting. I get it. I’ve been reading and loving your posts so much lately, but commenting is HARD sometimes.)

      I think the mystery bug is contagious. I see my aunt reading a mystery and all of a sudden I want to too, even though I haven’t thought about the genre in months. Both of these were really fun – so are The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and The Secret Adversary if you’re an Agatha Christie fan, or Whose Body? or Strong Poison if you haven’t read any Lord Peter Wimsey…or The Daughter of Time if you like a good historical mystery! Good luck with the library stack! 😂

      I know, right?! Lewis is so good at doing that. It’s kind of uncanny.

      Okay, I’m really glad that made sense to you! It’s something I’ve only begun to think of recently, thanks to Chesterton and now Georgette Heyer. It really is a different way to think, but VERY worthwhile I think.

      I know that feeling very well. I do hope Math and Science will go easy on you from now on! And maybe you will find a book so good you don’t even care. That’s always awesome.


  2. Welcome back!
    (True, commenting does take a lot of mental energy. I suppose the reason depends on the person.)
    It’s been about a year since I’ve read a murder mystery. But I don’t think it will be too long before I pick up another one.
    I forget if I have Lewis’ book on stories. I know I have one on stories from Tolkien (which I remember being good), and one on stories from Sayers (which I have not read yet, but hear is good). But somehow I don’t think I have Lewis’ book (and if not, why not?).


    1. Thank you, thank you!
      (I suppose it does.)
      It seems you finished Sayers’ mysteries about a year ago, right? Not all detectives are as entertaining as Lord Peter and not all writers are as intelligent as Dorothy Sayers, but mystery IS a fun genre that rarely lets you down, I think.
      I think the Lewis book, being a collection, might have been published rather recently? So perhaps that’s why you haven’t yet had a chance to find it and carry it off. Does Tolkien have a whole book of thoughts on stories, then? I’ve only read his essay On Fairy-Stories, and I must say, if there’s a whole book I want it badly. Do you mean Sayers’ The Mind of the Maker? I so very much want to read that one too. It’s one of those elusive ones I’ve been looking out for for quite a while. I did find the first volume of her Divine Comedy translation at a thrift store recently, though, which rekindled my dying hope that there might be some Sayers to be found somewhere in the world…


  3. Ahh welcome back!
    It’s sad I haven’t read any of Agatha Christie’s mysteries. I’m obsessed with sherlock Holmes though. Have you read them? They’re very addictive😅 there is just something about murder mysteries that make you keep wanting to read more, totally agree with you there.
    I’m on a book-reading ban of sorts because #studying or more likely because my parents will roast me if they walk in on my reading instead of working…and I restricted myself to four books a month, but even that feels like a bit much.


    1. Thank you! 😊
      I have mixed feelings about Agatha Christie, but she’s definitely iconic for a reason, haha.
      And yes!!!! I have read Sherlock Holmes!!! Those are so fun. And yes, addictive. My mom has a complete collection, which I kind of just…inhaled. When I found it. Lol.
      Haha I understand that! Your parents are my parents. 😂 It depends on how fast one reads, I suppose, but I think a little reading while studying actually makes you study better? Like, when I have that bit of rest and pleasure for my brain in there it just WORKS better when it’s supposed to be working. XD Anyway, good luck with your studying!!


  4. SARAH!!! So good to “see” you!! (I actually did think about emailing you to see if you were alright. Then I decided that a) you were probably fine, and b) my Organic Chem final project was probably what I should be using that time for. XD XD Sorry!)

    (I don’t know why commenting takes so much mental energy, but it does! I always feel bad when I don’t *have* the mental energy to comment on blogs that are not on my drop-everything-and-comment list, which is, sadly, limited to your blog and Megan’s. XD For a while, I tried to comment always on every blog in my feed, and that was a disaster. So. Some days I do it, and some days I just don’t.)

    Hmm. I’ve thought about reading Orbiting Jupiter, but it just didn’t sound very Gary D. Schmidt-ish, and so I’ve always foreborn (is that a word? isn’t it the past form of “forebear”? Autocorrect tells me it isn’t a word). But what you’re saying is so true–in life, people don’t just focus on the problem, they can laugh, and tease each other, etc., even when in the midst of a tragedy. And it should be that way in fiction, too, or else it doesn’t ring true.

    Oh, you read On Stories!!! YAY! I’m so glad you liked it!! (And thanks for linking my post! :)) (The LOTR review is the BEST.)

    I didn’t really process that Heyer had written mystery?? I mean, I knew she had, because my mom reads them, but I didn’t really…think about it? I’ll have to read some of that at some point. Except, I already have so much Heyer on my TBR, I can’t even think about adding more right now. XD

    But yes, your thoughts on sin! So perfect! I don’t have a lot to add–but I do think, also, that it’s easier to be sad over your own sins than it is to be sad over the sins of others. When one sees the sins of others, one has distance to be angry. Whereas with one’s own sins, one has the closeness to be sad. If that makes sense.



    1. SAMANTHA!! hey! 😄 (I applaud your logic, it’s valid. XD Organic chem, wow. That’s one of those classes I barely didn’t have to take and I was halfway sorry and halfway very relieved. I hope that went well!) (also, I finally emailed you back, yay xD)

      (I know, I feel bad too! Especially when sometimes there are really awesome posts but I just don’t…have…the energy. Especially after commenting on the ones on MY priority list. I think people get it, though, at least.) (and, um, I am very honored and that made me grin a grin of surpassing magnitude to be on your drop-everything-and-comment list. Especially with Megan. Because her blog is, as you know, the absolute best.)

      (I do think “foreborne” is a word, spelled with an E at the end [like how you can “bear” children or you have “borne” children], but autocorrect is also telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about, so who knows. XD) And…yes. I agree with you. Which only makes sense, I guess, considering you’re agreeing with me. XD

      Yeah, Lewis is just awesome. Always. (And OF COURSE I linked your post! It was such a good one. Despite me not ever commenting, because sometimes I don’t even have the wherewithal to comment on the blogs that ARE on my priority list.)

      Haha, in general I think her historicals are more fun than her mysteries (at least the good ones), but they ARE enjoyable mysteries if you ever get around to them. Also, I love that both our moms introduced us to Heyer! (My mom put her literally-falling-apart copy of The Masqueraders into my hands when I was twelve and was like, “here, you like to read. You might like this.”) That’s just very…I like it.

      That makes A TON of sense! I love that. (It’s somewhat similar to Lewis’s thing about loving people because they’re selves, and your best example is your own self, because you love your own self just in its self-ness, not necessarily liking anything about it, isn’t it?) It really is true that that lack of distance gives you the closeness to be sad…which I imagine is why fiction can do it. Fiction gives us that unnatural closeness to a human being beside ourselves. Very cool.



  5. Okay, Message from Malaga is going on my list. And so is Georgette Heyer. I didn’t realize the woman wrote detective fiction. I am so very fond, you know, of women who wrote detective fiction, especially if it was published in the 1920s. …Okay that’s rather a silly set of reasons to be fond of people, so it probably isn’t strictly true; but anyone who makes Sarah feel about sin the way G. K. Chesterton makes one feel about sin absolutely HAS to command my immediate respect, interest, and potential affection. So yes. *quietly adds Georgette Heyer to the list* *is surprised she hasn’t been more urgently on the list before now*

    Also On Stories.

    And A Matter of Days looks really, REALLY good. Darn it, Sarah, the things you do to my TBR. (Totally kidding. My TBR revels in this. It’s like Pippin and Merry being excited about getting to be the tallest hobbits ever.)

    Anywho. Lovely to have you back, m’dear. You have been missed. (And no worries about catching up on reading or commenting. We’re finite creatures and there are so many demands on our time, what? And there really IS something draining about commenting. Maybe because all the things to comment on/reply to pile up so fast? You’ve got comments on your blog and then other peoples’ blogs to comment on, and then their replies to your comments to keep tabs on and possibly reply to, and then a copy of the same thing on Goodreads, and then email’s a whole ‘nother commitment on the other tab of the computer screen, and aghhhhh we are drowning in the bog and where is Bunter to grab us by the hand and keep our heads above water until help should come?) (Evidently your discussion of murder mysteries has put me in a mood for Lord Peter.)


    1. Hurrah! And oh, yes, I do very much hope you’ll read some Georgette Heyer. Even some of her Regencies and Georgians as well (and she has a few from even earlier periods that I want to read, like there’s one about William the Conqueror? Not particularly interested in that one, but stuff like that), because…I just think you’d probably really like them? She’s such a fun, frothy, WITTY writer, with vibrant characters and the capability (rarely displayed but still there) to be thoughtful and tender and insightful. I just. Yes. I applaud this TBR addition. XD

      Oh, A Matter of Days is truly interesting! I’m happy to have piqued your interest. May your TBR surpass the Old Took in height and breadth and strength of personality!

      Thank you! It is indeed lovely to BE back. Your comments are always such a bright spot in my day. (Yes. You put that perfectly. Where oh where is Bunter?!) (I’m in the mood for Lord Peter toooo! I asked my aunt for Murder Must Advertise, and she’s in the middle of it but says she’ll lend it as soon as she’s done but I am having a hard time being patient. XD)


  6. I am sorry that Orbiting Jupiter made you mad, but I 100% respect your reasons why. I understand what you are saying about it not feeling as real as his other books, not as solid. It is written more sparsely and Jack’s voice is not nearly as strong as Doug’s or Holling’s or even Carter’s. The fact that it was so short and in many ways skeletal in form made it almost like a poem to me- you aren’t given most of the details, but you might be able to feel them beyond the select moments you’re given…or it might just fall flat. Because poetry is a fickle thing and it can mean so much to one person and nothing to someone else. Then again, novels are like that too…but anyway, something about the style really does remind me of a haunting poem, and even though I agree with you that it doesn’t have the solidness (or even the same flavor of charm) as his other books, I connected to the characters and the story more profoundly than I did in Carter Jones (though not as much as in Okay for Now). It’s anyone’s guess as to why. It often puts me in a bad mood when books make me mad though, so I’m sorry again that you had to go through that unpleasantness. It really is kind of a harsh book to go through if you don’t end up liking it.
    Okay for Now really is his best.


    1. I really really like how you explained that about the poem. That’s exactly what it felt like, sparseness and all, a haunting sort of poem. That I personally didn’t like and whose twist ending made me mad, lol. It’s so true about poetry being so highly subjective, though. It’s an interesting, if sometimes frustrating, phenomenon. And I’m very glad you love it, and I’m very sorry I don’t because it really is sad when somebody doesn’t love what you love and recommended to them, and I’m glad you understand why I didn’t love it too, though? And, like, Jack didn’t have the same charm but he sure was a lovely kid. So mature. I’m very fond of Jack.

      Okay for Now is brilliant. I’m still amazed at it, actually. *hugs Doug*

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh good, I am glad that made sense! It made sense in my head but I wasn’t sure if it would come across. It IS sad when you love something that someone else doesn’t love or vice versa, but then that’s life and we get over it and it’s kind of great that we are all unique enough to have different responses to things and yet the same enough to relate to each other and it’s great really. I used to just be upset by stuff like this but now I think it’s really cool how we can all love different things and still love and respect each other.

        CAN WE ALL JUST HUG DOUG, THOUGH? He needs all the hugs.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yes, it is actually pretty cool. I’m always really glad, for instance, when I find out people love books that I liked but didn’t love? Because they are the perfect book for SOMEBODY, though not for me, and it always just makes me glad that SOMEBODY is going to really love them. But at the same time I’m not thrilled when someone isn’t thrilled by something I love. Ah well. I am a (somewhat) mature human being who can get over this.

        I saw it at the library yesterday and made my little sister get it and she’s finished the first chapter now and she looked up at me with the saddest puppy dog face and was like “I love Doug.” So we shall ALL THREE hug Doug, as he desperately needs.

        Liked by 1 person

  7. I personally love Orbiting Jupiter, but your reasons for not liking it? I get it, mate. Respect.
    Ahhh, I love On Three Ways of Writing for Children. It is my jam. I need to read more Lewis essays, because REALLY now.
    I think Message from Malaga might be one of the few Helen Macinnes books my library actually has?? Have the fates smiled upon me??? Because I think I need to meet this housekeeper.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. *respectful bows*
      Isn’t it though?? There are so many good things in that essay. It just makes me happy. And he does have a lot of good essays, though that’s probably my favorite. Like, the On Stories one is very interesting.
      THE FATES HAVE SMILED UPON YOU INDEED, DO NOT NEGLECT THIS RARE OCCURRENCE. (I love Concepcion dearly. I wish she was in the story more than she is. But even so.)

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with
Get started
%d bloggers like this: