First off: I have not yet found time to write, but I have found time to open my work-in-progress and look at it to remind myself of my characters and where I last left them. Hopefully that writing time will come soon.

Second, commuting into and out of a job means I have time to read (as though I didn’t find time on my own anyway!). Reading on the subway is its own special pleasure, since there is, literally, nothing else you can possibly do besides be on the subway. No dishes, no laundry, no clamoring spouse/child/etc.–nothing but being on the subway going to your destination.

So while I wouldn’t hope for a subway slow-down, it’s not the worst thing ever if it happens.

This week, I began reading the first book in Tasha Alexander‘s historical mystery series, And Only To Deceive (recommended to me by Cara Elliott), featuring Emily, Lady Ashton. Emily is an inquisitive woman, but has not been accorded an education in anything beyond needlework, languages and indifferent piano playing.

Within the first few pages, Emily is told the story of Paris and that damn golden apple and the three goddesses he has to choose to give it to. That startled me, since that story–and myths in general–were part of my upbringing, as integral to my knowledge base as the math tables and that there were fifty United States.

I pride myself on not taking anything for granted, but in terms of what I’ve been exposed to, I definitely have. What if I hadn’t been allowed access to books and knowledge? What if I were Lady Emily, bred to be a pretty ornament to a man’s home? No wonder our heroines are regarded as so unusual within their own society–they think and speak for themselves, chafe at their restrictions, and devour knowledge as greedily as Venus took that apple.

So while I have not found time to write (see how I brought that back around? I am all about the callback), I have found time to be grateful to be given the tools to enable me to write. And, eventually, I will utilize those tools.

Meanwhile, pity poor Paris, who had to make the hardest decision ever: Which vain, gorgeous goddess was the most gorgeous (and therefore would be the most vain)? Poor guy.