Hello. I’m Eileen. I’m a homebody. There I said it. For years I faked it, pretending to be an easy, breezy traveler. I’d sign on for weekend jaunts. I’d go on trips to far-flung places, never letting on that I was missing the creature comforts of home: my bed, my favorite pair of slippers, my teapot, and my writing desk, to name a few. Which is not to say I’m unadventurous. I wouldn’t be a writer if I were. I’m curious by nature. I research different locales for the books I write. I like seeing new places and meeting new people. It’s just that whenever I’m in one of those locales I’m usually wishing I could go home at the end of a day of sightseeing or recreating, or poring over archival newspaper articles at a public library doing research, instead of to my temporary lodgings. Like Dorothy, if she still had her home in Kansas to go to after it’s whisked to the Land of Oz.

For years I kept this side of myself hidden from others. Frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. I didn’t want to be seen as stick-in-the-mud. Or, as I aged, an older person stuck in her ways. But the older I get the more I embrace my inner self. In an earlier post, I shared that in the evenings I’m usually in my PJs at an hour when other folks are enjoying an evening out. Partly this is because of the Amish hours I keep. It’s also due to my natural inclinations. On any given evening I’d rather be curled up on the sofa watching a movie on Netflix than at a movie theatre or a Broadway theatre. I love going to the theatre and I’m lucky enough to live near the Theatre district in New York City. Better yet, I’m married to a film/theatre critic who gets free tickets to shows. It’s just that I prefer going to matinees. Evening performances usually have me nodding off by the end of Act One or squirming in my chair trying to get comfortable, regardless of how entertaining the play or musical might be.

I’m currently away from home, staying in Sacramento, where I’m dividing my time between working on a book project and house-hunting. (The latter for when my husband retires and we move back to California in the future). The accommodations I originally booked on Airbnb were a disaster. Noisy neighbors upstairs kept me up nights and disturbed me while I worked during the day, clomping around and playing loud music. In desperation, I bailed and found temporary shelter elsewhere. It was a house-share, and the owner was very nice and accommodating, but I felt constrained, nonetheless. I like having my own space. Finally, I lucked into a nice rental property, a cute older home on a quiet, leafy street downtown. It even has a fig tree and a blueberry bush in the backyard.

I still miss my own bed, and I’m still waiting for the figs to ripen. But I’m okay. I’m at peace. It’s not home but it’s a home away from home.

The Carson Springs Trilogy: Stranger in Paradise, Taste of Honey, and Wish Come True Kindle Edition

Three addictive novels of romance and suspense in a small California town from the New York Times–bestselling author of The Diary and Garden of Lies. In Stranger in Paradise, the first book of Eileen Goudge’s bestselling Carson Springs series, an unlikely wedding upends the tranquil California town. It isn’t easy to watch your daughter marry a man who’s twice her age, but Samantha Kiley holds her tongue. Wes seems like a good man, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s also a billionaire. She has no idea that she will soon be caught up in a May–December affair of her own that will set tongues wagging and complicate her idyllic small-town life.