What’s in My Purse?

The Wednesday Writers are back! We took July off because so many of us were going to the RWA National Conference in San Diego. Oddly enough, there’s actually a connection between that event and the contents of my purse.

.WW August 16


I have for years carried way too much junk around in one oversized purse after another. Way back in high school (in a previous century), I had a shelf full of purses and changed them frequently to match my outfits. I guess that seemed important back then, and I probably had less to carry around. Definitely no phone or camera, probably a wallet, a hair brush, school supplies, and a paperback novel.


Now I buy a purse and use it for months, until something breaks or I get bored and crave a new one. And for years I’ve been very particular about purses: must have three sections, with a zipper on the middle one, so many pockets, some place to clip my keys on, and so forth. All very well, and all rather large. I bought a new one earlier this summer, and realized it was closer to a tote bag than a hand bag.


Heading for San Diego in July, I decided I needed a small purse, something easy to carry, that would hold my large wallet, my new smartphone (also rather large), my Kindle, and a few other odds and ends. And I discovered I really liked it, but when I got home it was just a bit too small for everyday use.


So I went out and bought a slightly larger purse in the same style: one section, a couple of outside pockets, a couple of inside pockets, and someplace to hang my keys. And I set out to declutter my purse.


No need for that big notebook, not every day anyway. Cut the fourteen pens down to five. Ditch the address book—I’ve put all that information in my phone. Ditto the shopping list. And the calendar. (Heck, that’s why I spent all that money on the phone, isn’t it? I don’t make many calls, but I sure like having a little computer in my purse!)


PurseNow I’m down to wallet, phone, checkbook (I could probably leave that at home), keys, extra sunglasses (clip ons, I keep my regular pair in the car), aspirin, bandana (for cleaning my glasses), tissues (smallest possible package, highest cost per tissue), five pens and two styluses (styli?), lipstick (the extent of my make up needs), chapstick, hand cream, nail file and clipper, magnifying glass and measuring tape (don’t take up much room), extra car and house keys, clip on watch (I don’t wear one, and with the new phone I probably don’t need the purse watch), and a hair brush. If I need something to read, my Kindle fits in there, too.


With a little effort (or a smaller wallet) I could probably downsize even further. Maybe back down to the purse I bought for the conference. Maybe I could even pick up a couple of other colors and change them now and then. Maybe . . .


Stop by and see what Tammy Baumann, Wendy LaCapra, Priscilla Oliveras, Carol Post, and Tosha Sumner have been carrying around in their purses.

Abibliophobia Strikes Again


I’ve suffered from abibliophobia all my life, but until recently I had no idea some kindred soul had coined a name for the problem.  Mind you, there’s no chance of running out of reading material in my house.  Along with the shelves of book I Really Want To Read, there are whole walls of books I can’t give up because I might want to read them again one day.  But I never go anywhere that might involve a waiting room or a meal eaten alone without a book (or these days my Kindle).

The truth is, I’m an incurable bookaholic, and I have no desire to change.  There are far more dangerous (or anti-social) addictions.

A couple of weeks ago I stopped at the local Barnes & Noble, armed with a Christmas gift card, and bought one book, a lovely large volume called Steampunk: An Illustrated History of Fantastical Fiction, Fanciful Film and Other Victorian Visions by Brian J. Robb.  I’d spotted the book on line and bought it brick and mortar; on the same trip I spotted several books at the store to order on line.  I have gift cards for Amazon, too, and they stretch farther.

Yesterday I made another stop at Barnes & Noble, gift card balance in hand, but I didn’t buy anything.  The particular book I was looking for hadn’t hit the shelves yet, and I knew that the box of books I’d ordered from Amazon was due to arrive.  And sometimes I find a bookstore the size of B&N overwhelming.  So many, many books that I would like to read.  So many, many books that I will never have time to read.  So many, many books that I should be writing myself.

book pileWhen I got home from my errand-running rounds, the big box of books from Amazon was waiting on my doorstep.  Four of the books are recently released romances by my Firebird sisters (that group is beginning to make me feel like a serious underachiever!):  Highland Surrender by Tracy Brogan, Midnight Shadows by Carol J. Post, and two by Kim Law, Caught on Camera and Sugar Springs.

Beguiled, by Deeanne Gist and J. Mark Bertrand, is a romantic suspense novel set in Charleston.  Dee used it as an example in her workshop on research, and it was the only one of her books I didn’t have, so when I saw it on sale at Amazon, I clicked it into my cart.  Darynda Jones’ latest tale, Fourth Grave Beneath my Feet is the latest release in her series.  I’m running behind on those; I’ve read First Grave on the Right (a Golden Heart winner), but Fourth Grave will be joining Second and Third on the TBR pile.

For pure mystery, I’d ordered Aaron Elkin’s latest Gideon Oliver novel, Dying on the Vine.  I’ve been reading this series since the beginning.  I’ve also read Marcia Muller’s Sharon McCone novels since the beginning (the latest is wating for me), so I couldn’t resist The Bughouse Affair, the first in a new historical mystery series set in 1890s San Francisco by Muller and her husband, Bill Pronzini.

I should be able to hold off the Heartbreak of Abibliophobia for a good while yet.  Say, the next twenty-five years or so.