The Agathas: Keeping Jessica Alive for Young Audiences and Me.

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Hello, Dear Reader.

I would never wish to be rude and ignore the elephant in the room, so let us discuss my absence of late from this electronic realm. In February, I accepted a job as a paraprofessional working in a public library. As I had been assigned to work in the youth sections, I quickly made it my mission to familiarize myself with the books I was surrounded by each day. I wanted to be prepared for the moment when someone would look to me to recommend their next great read.

So, Dear Reader, I got to work. One YA novel turned into two, quickly followed by a third, and the next thing I knew I had become deeply enthralled with all things young adult literature. Something came alive inside of me, a love of reading teen stories that I was previously unaware of. Before I knew what hit me, I was reading at a pace of about 3 books a week, devouring one after the other without a second thought. And because I was having so much fun being surrounded by fictional worlds, soon everything else feel to the wayside. Simply put, I began ignoring most of my other interests and hobbies, choosing instead to spend my time with a borrowed book in hand.

As you have likely guessed by now, Jessica and her motley crew were among the discarded friends that have been ignored as of late. Yet I know she would understand that sometimes we put down one toy and choose another, but that does not mean we love the first toy any less.

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By now, Dear Reader, you are almost certainly screaming at your screen for me to get to the point. I know I have been gone for too long to deserve your trust, but I am asking for it nonetheless. I promise I have something poignant to say that will relate to the title of this blog post. Patience is a virtue, and whatnot.

While it has been a few months since I have sat down and immersed myself in Cabot Cove, somehow, Jessica found me anyway. It seems she sought me out via the very thing I had abandoned her for. Recently, I pulled a book off the shelves titled The Agathas, whose back cover promised a murder mystery that would be solved by two teens who loved reading Agatha Christie books. Once I opened the book and fell into the first chapter, I learned that the story took place in Castle Cove. Immediately, it was clear to me that the author was making a reference to Cabot Cove, and a smile bloomed on my face. And in the last chapters of the book, we learned that one of our main characters spent her childhood watching VHS tapes of MSW. I didn't anticipate it, but there was Jessica Fletcher, smiling at me through the printed words on the page.

Dear Reader, you must understand that The Agathas itself was a fine book. I had fun reading it, but it really wasn't anything special. The sequel is sitting on the self in my library right now, but I doubt I'll pick it up. My point in typing these words is not to encourage you to read this book (though I would encourage you to patronize your local library!). My point is that sometimes the things (and the people) we love sneak up on us and remind us that they have never truly left our sides. I had been feeling guilty for neglecting my fictional friends in Maine, but little did I know they had been waiting for me patiently in the pages of my books. I'd like to think that's how most friendships and loves work too, understanding and loving you always, even if it is sometimes from afar.

Am I reading too much into this? Is it dramatic and absurd to use a book referencing MSW as a metaphor for personal relationships? Have I gone too far by implying that it was divine fate for me to read The Agathas? Almost certainly, yes. Yes to all of these things. But this is my blog, and I'll wax poetic if I want to.