I Get An F- For Organization

A lot of my novel is set in an urban backdrop (by a lot, I really mean all; Washington D.C. and the fantasy city) and this is obviously a manifestation of my desire to move out of Central Illinois to somewhere where there are more interesting things to do than a) go to Steak and Shake or b) go to Borders. I do a poor job of hiding my projection issues in my writing. 

Anyway, one of the characters has a real city-fatigue problem, and I think I actually understood it for the first time this weekend. My friends and I were driving to the drive-in theater which is 45ish minutes away from where I live, and it was nearing sunset. And I realized that there is really nothing more beautiful than seeing endless rolling cornfields in late summer.* It's all golden and green and truly, a very pretty sight. I'm sure much nicer than skyscrapers. It does actually make me feel a little homesick when I'm somewhere that isn't flat (like San Francisco). D'awww, I am really a Midwestern girl at heart after all. 

We were, by the way, going to see Despicable Me, which made me melt like butter in a microwave and Gru and the girls are now my official prototype for every functional father-daughter relationship in fiction. Okay? Okay. 

The other thing is I was driving to Borders the other day (this is like every day of my life here; I've recently started branching out to Barnes & Noble too like the wild child I am) and next to me, I saw a couple riding on a motorcycle. That is not weird in itself. What was weird was the woman sitting behind the man was reading a book while they were flying down the street at 50 mph. Reading on the back of a motorcycle? She's officially awesome. So this made me think about where the most unconventional place is that I've read a book. I'm probably going to have to go with that time I was reading the sixth HP book when Snape kills Dumbledore and my mom, being the tactful person she is, interrupted me near the end. I immediately burst into tears, yelled at her, "Mom, I CAN'T TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW, Dumbledore's DEAD, and my life is ruined!" (or some variation thereof), ran out of the house and found refuge in my neighbor's gooseberry bushes. I finished HP6, sobbing into gooseberries.**

Top my story, please. I bet you can't.

*Keep in mind that my definition of "rolling" is not your definition of "rolling" unless you also live in Central Illinois. Rolling is primarily flat with maybe a few anthills scattered about. 

**Dumbledore's death was really traumatizing, okay. Admit it. You cried. If you didn't, maybe you should go get yourself checked out to make sure you're really human.