I’m a little late in posting this, so forgive me. Every year, I choose my 10 favourite books from the year. I read way more than ten books of course, but to be considered on the list, the book has to be published within the year. I’ve read near one hundred books this year but these were the ones that stood out as the cream of the cop of the year.

Where an author had more than one book published in the year, I put them all on the list. Choosing one book from what the author put out was near impossible, so they all get included. Where I’ve reviewed the book, I’ve included a link to that review.

Reading brings me such joy, but these are the books I’ve read more than once this year. The Drowning of Arthur Braxton? Read it once in eBook and twice in paperback. Joyland? Read it four times. Cupcakes and Christmas at Carrington’s? Read them four times a piece. Picture Me Gone and This Wicked Game? Twice apiece.

These are the books I went back to again and again this year because of how good they were, the joy they brought me. So read them read them read them, for they are awesome.

You’ll notice there are fourteen books This time around. Hey, it just seemed right. I wanted to welcome in 2014!

The Best Books of 2013

1. The Drowning of Arthur Braxton by Caroline Smailes

2. Doctor Sleep by Stephen King

3. Joyland by Stephen King

4. Cupcakes at Carrington’s by Alexandra Brown

5. Me and Mr. Carrington by Alexandra Brown

6. Christmas at Carrington’s by Alexandra Brown

7. This Wicked Game by Michelle Zink

8. Picture Me Gone by Meg Rosoff

9. The Romulus Equation by Darren Craske

10. The Monarch Key by Darren Craske

11. Beyond His Years by Darren Craske

12. Mythbound by Darren Craske

13. Night Film by Marisha Pressel

14. The Cuckoos Calling by J K Rowling

2013 is almost over.

Every year, I write a letter to the year that’s passed. I’ve been thinking of what to write for this years letter for a few weeks now. In the end, I’ve decided just to write what comes out and go from there.

This year has not been an easy one for me. When the Multiple Sclerosis hit on December 31st of 2012, it was as if someone had flicked a switch. There was a clear line drawn between life as it was and life as it is now.

January as a difficult month for me. I spent almost a month pretty much bed ridden. I was deaf in one ear and the left half of my face was frozen. I had to learn to walk again with the aid of a cane. It was a slow process, but I did it. I fought and won the battle but not the war.

Things continued to worsen. In March, my Wonder Mum took me to the emergency room when I lost the ability to speak and type. I went through a battery of tests (Cat scan, MRI, Lumbar Puncture, blood work, vision tests, etc.). In April, I finally had a name for what was wrong with me: Multiple Sclerosis.

I would have to wait until August 21st (the day before my birthday) to find out what kind I had (relapse and remitting) and what kind of medication I would be able to take (Copaxone, a daily injection). It was like getting to know myself all over again. I really didn’t know who I was anymore.

Rediscovering myself has been quite the process. I had to learn to walk again, talk again, type again. I had to learn to eat full meals and do things for myself again. As I fought, as I battled my body, I thought briefly if giving in, of just letting go. However, that’s not how I was raised. My Wonder Mum taught me to rise to each challenge that was presented to me, and I did and will.

Each day brings new challenges, new things I am relearning how to do. Things that I did without thinking before take a lot more energy and focus. Every time I step out into the world, it is as if I am a turtle sticking his head out into the sunshine. I just have to make sure that I keep sticking my head out and not hide in the dark, no matter how safe it feels. Life is meant to be lived, pure and simple.

2013 has been a year of ups and downs. In March, I had to put my beautiful cat Mave down. She was with me for seventeen years and in cat years, that’s darn old. I still miss her every day. Tula, the kitten I got in April of this year, helps though. Even if she does drive me crazy.

My apartment was broken into, my writing stolen and my laptop gone. In the end, I had to let it go and start again. That seems to be the theme for this year, starting over. Much as I learned to do everything all over again, I would beat this, too.

It’s also been the year that my writing has changed. I had twenty-three books come out in 2012. I had three come out this year and they were already in the pipeline. That’s mostly because from January to April, I really couldn’t write. Eventually I went back to the keyboard though. I wrote The Other Side of Oz and then moved on to 69B. Now I’m working on Boyfriends. I stopped writing romance novels. It hurt to let the genre go and I may go back to it eventually, but the truth is that I haven’t felt very romantic this year. However, the words still keep coming and that’s a gift in itself.

I entered 2013 as one person and an leaving it behind as a different me. I think it’s a better me. I take more joy in the simple things, the little things. I am not who I was, taking everything for granted. Now I celebrate everything I can do because it’s a small victory; and the small victories make one huge one right?

So while 2013 hasn’t been the best year (in fact most of it has been trial and tribulation), it’s been the year that I’ve learned the most about myself. I learned what I was capable of, that I will never give in, never surrender. That life is meant to be lived, regardless of the constraints and limits that my body puts upon it.

I won the battle and am on my way to winning the war. I am thankful for every day, for everything that happens, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. There is so much life left to live and in 2014, I am making the choice and the promise to myself to embrace life and to live as much as I can.

So bring it on 2014. I’m ready.

Hugs and cheer to you and yours,

Jamieson

I walked to the bus stop.

The cold and biting wind

sliced

into me. It

bit

into me, it’s teeth like

needles

in my skin.

When I arrived at the bus stop,

I was alone. Then I turned and

a Lady was there. She was

dressed in a thick over coat

made of a dark wool that matched

the colour of her fur hat.

The Lady had dark black hair

that came down on her left side,

framing her face like wings.

“It’s so terribly cold.”  She said. “Are you wearing a warm winter coat?”

I looked at her and smiled.

She seemed harmless enough.

“The coat I’m wearing is wool. My parents got it for me.”

The Lady took in my appearance,

nodded as if satisfied.

“You’re parents are very wonderful. But you need a better hat.”

She smiled, as if she were filled

with a heat despite the cold.

“Do you want to smell something that will warm you up?”

Oddly enough, She pulled out

a crumpled tissue.

She held it up to my nose.

“It’s Chanel No. 5.”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“There are people who say that it’s an old scent, that it makes you smell like an old fart, but then they’re the one’s who’ve forgotten about Marilyn.”

She held out the tissue again

“Smell it. It will take you back. There is a real class to it. I do hope there aren’t any additives. But it smells so lovely. It makes you remember, you know? I still remember the first time I smelled Chanel No. 5.”

I didn’t,

but the scent of it,

beautiful and distinctive,

gave me a brief blast of warmth.

It was soft and soothing,

like a blanket.

She took the tissue back

and smiled at me again.

I noticed a small tear form

at the edge of her eye.

With all of the make up that

she was wearing, it sat there

like a jewel perched on upon

black velvet. Her eyes were painted

a green so that they looked like leaves.

“Do you want a clean tissue?”

I asked her. There had to be

something that I could say

or should say to her.

She shook her head and

the tear slid down her face,

leaving a mark running though

her softly blushed cheeks.

“No, dear. It’s okay. I just want to make sure you get home safely. I think it’s coming there now, look, see? It’s a little further back?”

She pointed with a black

gloved hand into the distance.

“See?” She said.

I nodded and we waited for

the bus to stop in front of us.

When it did, I got on and turned

to the well dressed Lady.

She wasn’t there.

All that was there

was the scent of

Chanel No. 5

and the sound of winter.