Monsoons and Flowers in the Attic

Me holding Flowers in the Attic.

Delighted and horrified in equal measure.

It is July in Atlanta, and that means one thing: it is monsoon season. When I moved here as a 12-year-old, I didn’t realize that Atlanta is actually secretly the subtropics. But, after 10 summers here, I can safely confirm: the weather here is surprisingly similar to India’s.

Every afternoon at about 3pm–starting last week, and (according to the weather report) continuing until we all drown–the skies open up with the wrath of god. The streets flood, lightening strikes, and traffic comes to the standstill that happens every time that Atlanta has weather. Like clockwork, it clears up by dinnertime and leaves the streets steaming in a way normally reserved for black markets in dystopian science fiction films.

It’s driving me a little stir crazy, not to mention ruining my shoes. I am not a fan. (Looking on the bright side, I am learning a lot about how quickly leather dries.) I need to find some way to occupy my now-shoeless time, and I have found it: Flowers in the Attic.

Flowers in the Attic, for those of you who are unaware, is the completely bonkers-crazy example of the fact that Publishing Was Different in the 70s. I am fairly certain that a novel about children trapped in an attic (leading to sibling incest, natch) would fly at Simon and Schuster today.

I’m only about a third of the way through the novel, and I can already tell that it is completely going to live up to its reputation. It’s got a combination of creepy nouveau-Gothic subject matter and early-2000’s writing that just keeps me coming back for more. It’s like boxed wine for the soul–horrible and delightful in equal measure!

Hopefully, by the time I finish this saga of crazy the rains will let up. And if not? Look forward to a video review!

3 thoughts on “Monsoons and Flowers in the Attic

  1. Pingback: Netflix Makes Me Sad | Dances With Nerds

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