I found out about The Rest Will Come over Twitter because book bloggers were needed so I contacted Nev and told him I could review it and I also knew of other bloggers who might want to as well. So I did a post on here to get it out in the blogging community that he needed help at Confessions Publicity, the publisher and here we are. I agreed to a guest post and a review. I have to say that the book so far is… BLOODY BRILLIANT !!!
The Rest Will Come
Murder can be risky…and not just for the douchebags on the business end of Emma’s power saw.
Men only let Emma down. They cheat, and they lie. They send unsolicited pictures of their genitals. Ready to give up hope, Emma decides to go on one last date. Then it finally happens—she finds the thing she loves most of all.
Killing clueless jerks she finds on the internet.
Lost in a happy haze of hunting her victims, devising increasingly-clever killings, and streamlining her dismemberment process, Emma gets careless.
As her need for her murderous outlet grows, she runs an increasing risk of getting caught…or worse—falling for one of her victims.
Hunted by Exhaustion
Exhaustion is a menace, stalking me at every turn. The large, shapeless monster is everywhere. I feel it lurking in the darkness as breaking daylight drives it into shadows. I hear it as sounds start to thicken and creep into the distance, my ears detaching from the world around me. I feel it penetrating every cell in my body, packing them with increasing weight as it infects me.
It hunts me through the day. Following me from the restorative comfort of my pillow, grinning at my struggle into the morning. It laughs at the caffeine and energy drinks I guzzle to ward it off. I can hear the footfalls of it pacing around me in each banging second of the clock as I chain my fingertips to the keyboard. Each orbit around me becomes closer, tighter. Hearing it becomes feeling it.
By mid-afternoon, after it has warded off the assaults of breakfast and lunch as even the Sun becomes lazy in the sky, it strikes. I feel the impact in my forehead, a blunt and heavy blow that drips down my face. My eyelids flutter against the persuasive weight. It is inside me now, turning my own body into a traitor.
Suddenly, my arms are so heavy. I struggle to keep them lifted, willing my fingers to dance across the letters in practiced commands. My muscles appear to be in revolt. Every part of me sings a singular tune in perfect symphony: sleep.
Who has time to sleep?
I have code to write.
I have meetings to attend.
I have a house to clean, food to make.
I have kids to pick up from school.
I have little monsters to chauffeur to dance and Girl Scouts and the doctor.
I have runs to go on, workouts to complete.
I have books to write, tweets to twitter, blogs to finish.
I have movies to watch.
I have places to go and people to see.
There is no time for sleep.
I hear exhaustion release a guttural growl from within me. The sound reverberates off my bones, echoes in my empty spaces. The flesh rallies; the flesh lobbies. The body demands its restful quota be met while the mind presents a compelling list of objections, tasks, and obligations.
I find myself caught in limbo. The mind pulls me in the direction of accomplishment; the body yanks me back toward restoration. Do what I need to do or get the rest I need. Trapped in between, I satisfy neither. I shamble through my tasks like a zombie, the bags below my eyes growing darker by the day, my temper fraying up into the gray matter of my brain. I know I was supposed to remember something… many things… but I forget.
The world around me begins to unhinge. Sounds crawl farther away. My nerves recede from the surface. I feel like I am falling as the light collapses around the edges. My brain keeps sending commands down to my limbs, but they refuse to heed. Open rebellion in my bones.
Swimming somewhere in my own fatigue, I realize I have written about this before. Sure, I feel this way more days than not, but I have described this very state before. I realize I feel like Emma, a character of my own creation in The Rest Will Come. Art imitating life imitating art.
When I wrote The Rest Will Come, I based Emma entirely on a friend of mine. Her life, her personality, her idiosyncrasies. I described her multiple jobs, the endless hours, the bone-crushing exhaustion. Yet, while I may have never personally dated a parade of douchebags, I have fully experienced tired on my own. No imagination required.
Emma is tired on multiple fronts. There is her basic, logistical fatigue from working multiple jobs that prevent her from sleeping the recommended hours. Yet that biological weariness is paired with a psychological depletion from the unrelenting depression from her divorce, which later evolves into the soul-sucking frustration of online dating.
Every failed date wears her down. Every disappointment compounds her exhaustion. She is tired in her body, in her mind, and in her heart. Each day heaps on top of the trailing end of the last. They blur together in an ever-increasing weight. Time slows down as the task list grows longer.
I can relate.
I may never have worked multiple jobs. I may never (thankfully) have online dated. Yet I think fatigue is a universal part of the human condition. We can all relate to how it feels to be tired, overwhelmed, frustrated, inadequate. The specific circumstances vary, but the ultimate effect is consistent.
Even now, my body is screaming for sleep while my mind insists I have a guest blog to finish along with about a million other tasks. No rest for the wicked.
Christina Bergling’s Links:
I hope you enjoyed the guest post written by Christina ! Please check out her links ! I added the song because I thought that it was fitting to her guest post and to her book/character Emma. Please check out the book The Rest Will Come it does honestly remind me of a lady version of Dexter, except he killed other killers and she kills her dates that go bad.
Thanks for reading and until next time! Toodaloo !!