Have you ever seen the movie The Fifth Element? Well, you should. But aside from that, in this movie Chris Tucker wears a dress. Now the director had a sense that if he just asked Chris Tucker to wear a dress, the actor would say no. So he had the costume designer draw up some really outrageous, out-there designs. When Chris Tucker flipped out, the director pulled out the original designs, much tamer by comparison. That's how you get Chris Tucker in a dress.
This story has come to mind everytime I read a story about Harriet Miers. My Pollyanna nature likes to think the best of all people, but I'm starting to feel like someone is pulling a prank here. He can't honestly think she is the best he can find for that job. But maybe I'm wrong about her. But maybe I'm right, 'cause you know I'm the freak that doesn't think Tom Cruise and Angelina Jolie are as nuts as they act (hello, people, they're actors!).
Anyway, it's some final polishing to Full Circle today and then back to the novel. Which I'm calling Hammer and Snowflake, but if you must you can think of it as "Vikings in Space".
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
Writing Update
The WIP is up to 3800 words. OK, that's just an acorn, but someday it will be a might oak. I think.
I've been writing to Paul McCartney's new one, Chaos & Creation. While I don't think it's better than George Harrison's last one, it would be hard to top that one in my book. It's definitely the best think Paul has done since Flowers in the Dirt and maybe before. I especially like "English Tea". Very twee. Very me.
I've been writing to Paul McCartney's new one, Chaos & Creation. While I don't think it's better than George Harrison's last one, it would be hard to top that one in my book. It's definitely the best think Paul has done since Flowers in the Dirt and maybe before. I especially like "English Tea". Very twee. Very me.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Random musing
I'm on overdrive for the first draft of my third novel, so readers here can expect short, infrequent posts. But I had to get on to mention this: I've seen dozens of pictures of Iraqis voting today - print, TV, and internet. I have yet to see a man voting. They are letting the men vote too, right? How about women who aren't as old as the hills? It's great they are all getting involved with the process, it's a pivotal moment for Iraq and I don't want to cheapen that, but jeez, big media, skew the coverage much?
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Just a quick post...
to say that Tobias Buckell (previously mentioned here and here) has a website up for his to-be-released novel Crystal Rain. Now granted I'm a sucker for flying machines, but this looks seriously cool. Check it out.
Monday, October 10, 2005
What's wrong with public school?
Some homeschoolers are virulently anti-public school. Honestly, they'll start foaming at the mouth if you bring it up. I'm not one of those. I think if my boys had to go to public school they would do OK.
Then I read articles like the one in the StarTribune today. It was about parents volunteering to help out in the classroom. Apparently teachers are getting more volunteers than they need. And this is a problem? It gets worse: the word "hyper-involved" gets tossed about. My favorite, one teacher accused the parent volunteers of spying. They were really only there to evaluate her teaching.
And this is wrong how? Good grief! The very idea that anyone should surrender their child at the door and leave everything up to the teacher in her infinite wisdom just rubs me the wrong way. They don't want you to teach your own children how to read because it messes with their system.
The system needs to be reformed, I guess everyone believes that on some level. Being a bit of a capitalist, I think competition is a good thing. People need to have more choices about their children's education, and have the information to evaluate the options so they can make educated choices. Yes, Ms. Teacher, that means going into your classroom and evaluating what you are doing. Yes, it's going to be all about their child. I don't think anyone should have to choose what would be best for children overall at the expense of their own child's education (which is really their own child's future).
It seems lately I've been seeing more and more news stories like this one. The teachers want the parents out of their hair. Well, parents? Are we going to stand for that?
Then I read articles like the one in the StarTribune today. It was about parents volunteering to help out in the classroom. Apparently teachers are getting more volunteers than they need. And this is a problem? It gets worse: the word "hyper-involved" gets tossed about. My favorite, one teacher accused the parent volunteers of spying. They were really only there to evaluate her teaching.
And this is wrong how? Good grief! The very idea that anyone should surrender their child at the door and leave everything up to the teacher in her infinite wisdom just rubs me the wrong way. They don't want you to teach your own children how to read because it messes with their system.
The system needs to be reformed, I guess everyone believes that on some level. Being a bit of a capitalist, I think competition is a good thing. People need to have more choices about their children's education, and have the information to evaluate the options so they can make educated choices. Yes, Ms. Teacher, that means going into your classroom and evaluating what you are doing. Yes, it's going to be all about their child. I don't think anyone should have to choose what would be best for children overall at the expense of their own child's education (which is really their own child's future).
It seems lately I've been seeing more and more news stories like this one. The teachers want the parents out of their hair. Well, parents? Are we going to stand for that?
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Naturalism vs. Surrealism
The DVD for Vampire's Kiss came in the mail this week. What a terrific movie. Nick Cage at his finest. It had a commentary track, which was an unexpected surprise. It wasn't a special edition or anything, just some film company milking their back catalogue. It was the director and Nick Cage both talking about the movie, recorded cerca 1998 but I know the DVD wasn't available then so I would guess it was recorded for the laser disc (remember those?).
It's going in my top ten best commentary tracks ever. There is no discussion of what anybody ate, or things that happened off camera, or how hot is she, it's all about the craft. I love when people talk about the craft. I'm not even that particular about which craft. Here it was film making and acting (the director was not the writer, so there is no discussion of writing here).
Nick Cage spends a lot of time talking about his acting choices for the role. I think I said before that this is my favorite role of his. Better than Leaving Las Vegas. Honestly. On the commentary track, he talks about the difference between naturalism and surrealism and that while the vast majority of people are always striving for naturalism, what they don't get is that this is a style, just like anything else.
Wow. That clicked with me. As some one who does not strive for naturalism, it's great to hear him say that. I've never called what I like "surrealism", I call it "hyper-realism". Whether I made that up or read it or heard it, I don't know (man, I wish my brain came with footnotes). Anyway, the goal of naturalism is to recreate life as exactly has possible. As Cage said, there are many different styles of painting, only one of them is photo-realism.
I'm talking just from my own thoughts here, but I think the goal of my writing is not to recreate life as exactly as possible. Big surprise, I know, since I write fantasy, but there it is. I want to create certain experiences inside of the reader's mind and hopefully invoke certain emotions.
I don't think I'm explaining this well, I have to keep stoppping to help someone with his math. Let's try this: Shakespeare (ah, she plays the trump card!). Not natural. The very farthest from natural. Come on, solliquies? Who talks to themselves out loud, let alone in iambic pentameter? But this would fall under my category of hyper-realism. Ask someone to quote some Shakespeare to you. I guarantee what they peak will come from one of those solliquies.
And as most of you know, I have this lttle altar to James Joyce in my office. But that to me is setting the bar just a little too high. I would love to hear a commentary track of Joyce tearing apart the idea of naturalism. That would be something worth listening to, I guarantee it.
The problem with choosing not to work in the style of naturalism is that the vast majority of people prefer it. It's hard enough breaking into the world of publishing without deliberating doing something people aren't going to like. So it's a compromise. Oddly enough, I'm not one of those who thinks "I'll write one break-out novel and then I'll be free to write whatever I want!" because honestly the world doesn't work that way. When your second book tanks, your career is dead. Also, the whole idea is artistically dishonest, not to mention condescending.
Duty calls. Perhaps I can revisit this topic later. I never got to mention what Nick Cage did in that movie he did for Francis Ford Coppola, the one where Kathleen Turner goes back in time to high school. That's a brilliant example of one actor doing something surreal in a movie where everyone else strives for naturalism.
I think he did it just to stick it to his uncle.
It's going in my top ten best commentary tracks ever. There is no discussion of what anybody ate, or things that happened off camera, or how hot is she, it's all about the craft. I love when people talk about the craft. I'm not even that particular about which craft. Here it was film making and acting (the director was not the writer, so there is no discussion of writing here).
Nick Cage spends a lot of time talking about his acting choices for the role. I think I said before that this is my favorite role of his. Better than Leaving Las Vegas. Honestly. On the commentary track, he talks about the difference between naturalism and surrealism and that while the vast majority of people are always striving for naturalism, what they don't get is that this is a style, just like anything else.
Wow. That clicked with me. As some one who does not strive for naturalism, it's great to hear him say that. I've never called what I like "surrealism", I call it "hyper-realism". Whether I made that up or read it or heard it, I don't know (man, I wish my brain came with footnotes). Anyway, the goal of naturalism is to recreate life as exactly has possible. As Cage said, there are many different styles of painting, only one of them is photo-realism.
I'm talking just from my own thoughts here, but I think the goal of my writing is not to recreate life as exactly as possible. Big surprise, I know, since I write fantasy, but there it is. I want to create certain experiences inside of the reader's mind and hopefully invoke certain emotions.
I don't think I'm explaining this well, I have to keep stoppping to help someone with his math. Let's try this: Shakespeare (ah, she plays the trump card!). Not natural. The very farthest from natural. Come on, solliquies? Who talks to themselves out loud, let alone in iambic pentameter? But this would fall under my category of hyper-realism. Ask someone to quote some Shakespeare to you. I guarantee what they peak will come from one of those solliquies.
And as most of you know, I have this lttle altar to James Joyce in my office. But that to me is setting the bar just a little too high. I would love to hear a commentary track of Joyce tearing apart the idea of naturalism. That would be something worth listening to, I guarantee it.
The problem with choosing not to work in the style of naturalism is that the vast majority of people prefer it. It's hard enough breaking into the world of publishing without deliberating doing something people aren't going to like. So it's a compromise. Oddly enough, I'm not one of those who thinks "I'll write one break-out novel and then I'll be free to write whatever I want!" because honestly the world doesn't work that way. When your second book tanks, your career is dead. Also, the whole idea is artistically dishonest, not to mention condescending.
Duty calls. Perhaps I can revisit this topic later. I never got to mention what Nick Cage did in that movie he did for Francis Ford Coppola, the one where Kathleen Turner goes back in time to high school. That's a brilliant example of one actor doing something surreal in a movie where everyone else strives for naturalism.
I think he did it just to stick it to his uncle.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Nothing Gratuitous
God damn you, Joss Whedon!
So, I saw Serenity today. I punched out of work and went while the boys were napping (and Quin will go tomorrow and we'll talk about it tomorrow night. It's almost a Bill Gates kind of date).
It doesn't really say anything to say that I liked it. That doesn't begin to cover it. It's not just a "make you laugh/make you cry" kind of thing. It's a "make you feel everything little thing" kind of thing.
This is exactly what I want to write. Or perhaps more correctly how I want to write. There is nothing gratuitous. The jokes aren't just for laughs, they tell you more about the characters. The same goes for the violence. How often can you say that about an action film? That the violence tells you something deep about the character?
Of course what slipped from my mind when I went to the movies today is that this is a Joss Whedon story, and that means all bets are off. You know how you see a James Bond movie and there is never any doubt in your mind that Bond is going to make it through everything unscathed? This is the opposite of that. There was a point in the movie when I actually thought they were all going to die. No kidding. Joss can do that to you.
And Joss knows the power of the soundtrack, especially when to shut it off and let the actors act. Like editing, it's easier to notice when this is done badly than when it is done well. If you've seen The Mummy 2 then you've seen the scene when Rachel Weisz's character dies (she gets better). Brendan Frazer is probably doing an amazing job in that scene, but it's hard to judge because the MUSIC SWELLS and you can't hardly hear him over the REALLY SAD MUSIC TELLING YOU THIS IS A MOMENT OF INTENSE GRIEF. Hate the all caps? Think it lacks subtlety? That's how I feel about movie soundtracks.
On the down side, with no sound everyone in the theater can hear you snuffling away. And I seemed to have picked the showing just for fanboys.
I went to the show sort of expecting to be disappointed. How could a two-hour movie give me a sense of closure? This was clearly a TV series like Buffy, where Joss started out with a multiyear arc in his head. I didn't get closure, that is true. But I sure as hell wasn't disappointed.
So, I saw Serenity today. I punched out of work and went while the boys were napping (and Quin will go tomorrow and we'll talk about it tomorrow night. It's almost a Bill Gates kind of date).
It doesn't really say anything to say that I liked it. That doesn't begin to cover it. It's not just a "make you laugh/make you cry" kind of thing. It's a "make you feel everything little thing" kind of thing.
This is exactly what I want to write. Or perhaps more correctly how I want to write. There is nothing gratuitous. The jokes aren't just for laughs, they tell you more about the characters. The same goes for the violence. How often can you say that about an action film? That the violence tells you something deep about the character?
Of course what slipped from my mind when I went to the movies today is that this is a Joss Whedon story, and that means all bets are off. You know how you see a James Bond movie and there is never any doubt in your mind that Bond is going to make it through everything unscathed? This is the opposite of that. There was a point in the movie when I actually thought they were all going to die. No kidding. Joss can do that to you.
And Joss knows the power of the soundtrack, especially when to shut it off and let the actors act. Like editing, it's easier to notice when this is done badly than when it is done well. If you've seen The Mummy 2 then you've seen the scene when Rachel Weisz's character dies (she gets better). Brendan Frazer is probably doing an amazing job in that scene, but it's hard to judge because the MUSIC SWELLS and you can't hardly hear him over the REALLY SAD MUSIC TELLING YOU THIS IS A MOMENT OF INTENSE GRIEF. Hate the all caps? Think it lacks subtlety? That's how I feel about movie soundtracks.
On the down side, with no sound everyone in the theater can hear you snuffling away. And I seemed to have picked the showing just for fanboys.
I went to the show sort of expecting to be disappointed. How could a two-hour movie give me a sense of closure? This was clearly a TV series like Buffy, where Joss started out with a multiyear arc in his head. I didn't get closure, that is true. But I sure as hell wasn't disappointed.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Seagull and Raven
The WOTF short story is done. Well, mostly done. I'm going to let it simmer in its own juices over the weekend and give it a final polish on Tuesday before I send it out. It will be the shortest thing I've ever subbed to WOTF at barely 15 pages. It's also the first thing I've written that fell into the "correct" Fleish-Kinkaid ranges. I don't know if this will bode well or not, but those are interestingly developments. I don't think there is a semicolon in the entire piece!
Someone who was critting this for me mentioned that it reminded her of Fast Runner. A quick search later, this turned out to be a movie that came out a year or two ago about the Inuit (in their own language to boot). So of course I had to track it down, to make sure my story wasn't a dim retelling of something I hadn't even seen. Luckily, the Inuit thing is the only real connection. It's a very interesting movie, shot with digital cameras it looks like, and it's just gorgeous. Particularly if you, like me, love snow. It's filled with culture tidbits, but it's also a really great story about two brothers. I highly recommend it, but I'm sure it's hard to track down for rental. I bought my copy from Amazon.com (of course).
So once this is off on it's way to sunny LA, I'll be turning my attention back to the last story, "Of Tapestries and Daemons" and seeing what I can do with that. I think it needs to lose about 2000 words just to start, but we'll see.
Someone who was critting this for me mentioned that it reminded her of Fast Runner. A quick search later, this turned out to be a movie that came out a year or two ago about the Inuit (in their own language to boot). So of course I had to track it down, to make sure my story wasn't a dim retelling of something I hadn't even seen. Luckily, the Inuit thing is the only real connection. It's a very interesting movie, shot with digital cameras it looks like, and it's just gorgeous. Particularly if you, like me, love snow. It's filled with culture tidbits, but it's also a really great story about two brothers. I highly recommend it, but I'm sure it's hard to track down for rental. I bought my copy from Amazon.com (of course).
So once this is off on it's way to sunny LA, I'll be turning my attention back to the last story, "Of Tapestries and Daemons" and seeing what I can do with that. I think it needs to lose about 2000 words just to start, but we'll see.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Anger
Have you ever been angry? I mean really angry? So angry your hands shook? So angry your heart beats - not faster but harder. So hard it hurts. Have you been so angry your chest is filled with a liquid heat, decidedly icky and unnatural. Time doesn't flow: it's a series of snapshots. I imagine that last one would come in very handy in a fight. Not so much in sending an angry e-mail.
I've only been that angry twice. The first time was when my little weenie of an ex-boyfriend thought he'd give stalking a try and took the keys out of my car while I was making the night drop at the bank at 2 a.m. after work. I didn't kill him, but I did get my keys back. I don't know what he was thinking. I was bigger than he was.
The other time was last night. It's not a pleasant feeling, ballistic rage. I don't enjoy it at all. If I were in an Icelandic saga I imagine I would have come to my senses surrounded by the bloody bits of my former neighbors and hightailed it to Greenland. Being in the 21st century as I am, I sent an e-mail.
It's all work-related and not worth going into for oh-so-many reasons. Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged? (Kim has. Hi Kim!) Somewhere in the middle of this enormous book someone describes a company that changed management and was run like a communist collective where all decisions were made in committee and everyone found reasons why they couldn't be the ones doing any of the work. I've been thinking of that lately. A lot. I'm an American: I want to work hard and I want to be compensated based on how hard I worked.
The problem with the adrenal surge of a ballistic rage (aside from the very frightening feeling of not being in control of your own responses) is that empty feeling when the hormones drop out. Both times it's happened to me the anger gave way to weeping. That's not exactly a ball either. It tends to freak out the children too. I was still crying when the UPS man dropped off my package: Anansi Boys. Both boys were doing their best comforting, "Look mom! Your Neil Gaiman book came. Doesn't that make you happy?" I wasn't a complete mess, by the way, I was getting dinner made and all that. My kids are just intuitive. That and I don't hide my feelings well. Too much Scots-Irish in me for that.
I haven't had the chance to read Anansi Boys yet, what with updating the resume and researching companies who hire for what I want to do and all, but I've been carrying it with me from room to room, like a security blanket.
I have read the inscription. He dedicated the book to me! Wasn't that sweet? Well, technically he dedicated the book to you too, but I think it was mostly to me.
I've only been that angry twice. The first time was when my little weenie of an ex-boyfriend thought he'd give stalking a try and took the keys out of my car while I was making the night drop at the bank at 2 a.m. after work. I didn't kill him, but I did get my keys back. I don't know what he was thinking. I was bigger than he was.
The other time was last night. It's not a pleasant feeling, ballistic rage. I don't enjoy it at all. If I were in an Icelandic saga I imagine I would have come to my senses surrounded by the bloody bits of my former neighbors and hightailed it to Greenland. Being in the 21st century as I am, I sent an e-mail.
It's all work-related and not worth going into for oh-so-many reasons. Have you ever read Atlas Shrugged? (Kim has. Hi Kim!) Somewhere in the middle of this enormous book someone describes a company that changed management and was run like a communist collective where all decisions were made in committee and everyone found reasons why they couldn't be the ones doing any of the work. I've been thinking of that lately. A lot. I'm an American: I want to work hard and I want to be compensated based on how hard I worked.
The problem with the adrenal surge of a ballistic rage (aside from the very frightening feeling of not being in control of your own responses) is that empty feeling when the hormones drop out. Both times it's happened to me the anger gave way to weeping. That's not exactly a ball either. It tends to freak out the children too. I was still crying when the UPS man dropped off my package: Anansi Boys. Both boys were doing their best comforting, "Look mom! Your Neil Gaiman book came. Doesn't that make you happy?" I wasn't a complete mess, by the way, I was getting dinner made and all that. My kids are just intuitive. That and I don't hide my feelings well. Too much Scots-Irish in me for that.
I haven't had the chance to read Anansi Boys yet, what with updating the resume and researching companies who hire for what I want to do and all, but I've been carrying it with me from room to room, like a security blanket.
I have read the inscription. He dedicated the book to me! Wasn't that sweet? Well, technically he dedicated the book to you too, but I think it was mostly to me.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Random Musings
So The Corpse Bride is out on Friday. The boys are very excited; they've been watching trailer at Apple QuickTime for months. I asked Oliver last night whether he thought it might be too scary for him. He said, "Well, the Corpse Bride has an eyeball that just pops right out of her head!"
"Is that too scary for you?"
"It makes my guts hurt."
"Is that scary?"
"No! It's funny!"
He really likes The Nightmare Before Christmas so I'm sure he'll be okay. He's hugely interested in vampires, but that's the only movie we have with vampires in it that he can see. I'm not even really sure how he found out what a vampire is; I only showed him The Nightmare Before Christmas because he was already talking about them. He has a Lego minifigure vampire; maybe it came from that. I know when his brother was building the Empire State Building out of Legos, he was calling it the "Vampire State Building", mostly because it irritated his brother to no end.
On a completely unrelated note, I've been mucking about with some of the features on this blog. I figured out how to put a picture on the top, and once I get an actual photo of me I like I'll put it up there. I kind of like the South Park me, but the colors clash with the rest of the page. Also, I figured out how to add links on the side, but since my blog template didn't have that feature I had to put it in the HTML myself. Intimidating. Yet exhilirating. I love that feeling of "Wow! I almost know what I'm doing!" I can't get the script to match, but I'm not done noodling around yet.
"Is that too scary for you?"
"It makes my guts hurt."
"Is that scary?"
"No! It's funny!"
He really likes The Nightmare Before Christmas so I'm sure he'll be okay. He's hugely interested in vampires, but that's the only movie we have with vampires in it that he can see. I'm not even really sure how he found out what a vampire is; I only showed him The Nightmare Before Christmas because he was already talking about them. He has a Lego minifigure vampire; maybe it came from that. I know when his brother was building the Empire State Building out of Legos, he was calling it the "Vampire State Building", mostly because it irritated his brother to no end.
On a completely unrelated note, I've been mucking about with some of the features on this blog. I figured out how to put a picture on the top, and once I get an actual photo of me I like I'll put it up there. I kind of like the South Park me, but the colors clash with the rest of the page. Also, I figured out how to add links on the side, but since my blog template didn't have that feature I had to put it in the HTML myself. Intimidating. Yet exhilirating. I love that feeling of "Wow! I almost know what I'm doing!" I can't get the script to match, but I'm not done noodling around yet.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
The Neil Gaiman post
To celebrate the release of Anansi Boys this week, here are a few Neil Gaiman memories.
First of all, I came to the party late. I have an obsessive personality. I never like things just a little bit; they pretty much consume me, at least for a while. So I have a tendency to avoid things I think I might like too much, fighting the pull of the tide as it were. Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I purposely didn' watch the show becaused I knew I would obsess on it (and Aidan was a newborn when the show came out, and I didn't have much time for TV anyway). I gave in at season 4, simultaneously watching new eps once a week and reruns on one of the cable networks to catch up.
But I was talking about Neil Gaiman here. My husband listens to MPR at work, and he was always telling me about this comic book guy that they were interviewing whom I'd really like if I would just listen. Well, I can't listen to public radio and homeschool at the same time, so I was always missing these things. But he kept insisting I would really, really like this guy, he was just my sort of thing, and I should pick up some of his books.
Now I knew what Sandman was, of course, but being a loyal Marvel fan I'd never read it. Someone had shown me the Ramadan issue once but it was at a party when I couldn't just sit down and read it. But I knew this was something that would suck me in once I started it.
Then on one of the homeschool e-loops I subscribe to one of the mothers made some disparaging remarks about comic books and two of us posted pro-comic arguments pretty much simultaneously. The other mom was a huge Gaiman fan; she said I simply had to read him.
Then I was dusting bookshelves one day and the name "Gaiman" caught my eye. I had a Neil Gaiman book already and didn't even know it (he wrote a biography on Douglas Adams, which was what I had). I actually believe that Douglas Adams bio was the second Gaiman book I read; he also wrote a book about Duran Duran which I believe I read (I had a friend with more than 20 books on Duran Duran and at one point or another I read all of them).
So. I have this rule about threes. Something that comes at me from three different places is trying to get my attention. So I pooled together all of the book store gift cards I had gotten for my birthday and Christmas and bought all of the Sandman collections, plus all of his novels (American Gods had just come out in paperback). Yep, that was over $200 spent all at once. Good thing I liked it, eh?
My other memory was the first time I read The Wolves in the Walls to Aidan and Oliver. Aidan was 6, Oliver was 3. I read stories to them while they eat their lunch, usually longer books like Harry Potter, but I made an exception for this one since it had just come in the mail and I was anxious to read it. I was so engrossed in the story I was halfway through the book before I realized that no one was eating. Oliver had a fork hovering in front of his mouth. Both of them were wide-eyed, way freaked out. I couldn't stop reading now; they would never know how things came out all right in the end. I finished it, but for days after Aidan told everyone about this really scary book that his mother had read to him that she must never, ever read again.
You know, they still haven't come around on that one. But this will be the book from their childhood that they will remember for the rest of their lives.
First of all, I came to the party late. I have an obsessive personality. I never like things just a little bit; they pretty much consume me, at least for a while. So I have a tendency to avoid things I think I might like too much, fighting the pull of the tide as it were. Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I purposely didn' watch the show becaused I knew I would obsess on it (and Aidan was a newborn when the show came out, and I didn't have much time for TV anyway). I gave in at season 4, simultaneously watching new eps once a week and reruns on one of the cable networks to catch up.
But I was talking about Neil Gaiman here. My husband listens to MPR at work, and he was always telling me about this comic book guy that they were interviewing whom I'd really like if I would just listen. Well, I can't listen to public radio and homeschool at the same time, so I was always missing these things. But he kept insisting I would really, really like this guy, he was just my sort of thing, and I should pick up some of his books.
Now I knew what Sandman was, of course, but being a loyal Marvel fan I'd never read it. Someone had shown me the Ramadan issue once but it was at a party when I couldn't just sit down and read it. But I knew this was something that would suck me in once I started it.
Then on one of the homeschool e-loops I subscribe to one of the mothers made some disparaging remarks about comic books and two of us posted pro-comic arguments pretty much simultaneously. The other mom was a huge Gaiman fan; she said I simply had to read him.
Then I was dusting bookshelves one day and the name "Gaiman" caught my eye. I had a Neil Gaiman book already and didn't even know it (he wrote a biography on Douglas Adams, which was what I had). I actually believe that Douglas Adams bio was the second Gaiman book I read; he also wrote a book about Duran Duran which I believe I read (I had a friend with more than 20 books on Duran Duran and at one point or another I read all of them).
So. I have this rule about threes. Something that comes at me from three different places is trying to get my attention. So I pooled together all of the book store gift cards I had gotten for my birthday and Christmas and bought all of the Sandman collections, plus all of his novels (American Gods had just come out in paperback). Yep, that was over $200 spent all at once. Good thing I liked it, eh?
My other memory was the first time I read The Wolves in the Walls to Aidan and Oliver. Aidan was 6, Oliver was 3. I read stories to them while they eat their lunch, usually longer books like Harry Potter, but I made an exception for this one since it had just come in the mail and I was anxious to read it. I was so engrossed in the story I was halfway through the book before I realized that no one was eating. Oliver had a fork hovering in front of his mouth. Both of them were wide-eyed, way freaked out. I couldn't stop reading now; they would never know how things came out all right in the end. I finished it, but for days after Aidan told everyone about this really scary book that his mother had read to him that she must never, ever read again.
You know, they still haven't come around on that one. But this will be the book from their childhood that they will remember for the rest of their lives.
Writing Update
I finished the story for WOTF, formerly referrred to as the "weird" story, now officially called Seagull and Raven. It was my first official submission to the only crit group I joined recently. Up until this point, I've only had one person reading my stuff (thanks, Jenny!). She still reads, but I wanted to try getting more opinions. Also I'll be reading other people's stuff and critting them, which I understand is very helpful with your own writing. I posted the story Friday night and by Sunday morning I already had three really good, well thought out crits, so this is pretty cool. This is the first time I've gotten opinions from complete strangers who aren't familiar with me or my style, so that was interesting as well, seeing what comes across strongly.
I was going to let it sit for a few days before revising anyway, but now I'll have to as I realized that this is the week that Anansi Boys comes out. I undersand it's shorter than American Gods, but I know I won't be doing anything else until I've finished that book.
I was going to let it sit for a few days before revising anyway, but now I'll have to as I realized that this is the week that Anansi Boys comes out. I undersand it's shorter than American Gods, but I know I won't be doing anything else until I've finished that book.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
I hit the dartboard again!
Finally got my letter back from WOTF for "Of Tapestries and Daemons". I was a quarter-finalist... again. Partly, this is good news since that means I was in the top 10-15% of entries. On the other hand, it's frustrating. I keep hitting the dartboard, but I have no way of knowing if I'm getting any closer to the bullseye or not.
The story I'm finishing up is so weird I don't know what to think of its chances. It's a departure from my usual style, but it remains to be seen whether this is a good thing or not. It's been demoralizing work because I'm so bad at judging whether what I write is good or not. I was pretty down yesterday (ummm, did you notice?). Then at dinner Aidan and Oliver told me their new knock-knock joke that they came up with themselves:
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Jenny.
Jenny who?
Pkew (exploding noise).
So I'm just staring at Aidan because of course this makes no sense when he volunteers this crucial bit of information: "It also works if you say Dennis."
Well, maybe you had to be there. It was the most surreal thing he could have said, and he was completely serious. I haven't laughed that hard in quite some time.
The story I'm finishing up is so weird I don't know what to think of its chances. It's a departure from my usual style, but it remains to be seen whether this is a good thing or not. It's been demoralizing work because I'm so bad at judging whether what I write is good or not. I was pretty down yesterday (ummm, did you notice?). Then at dinner Aidan and Oliver told me their new knock-knock joke that they came up with themselves:
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Jenny.
Jenny who?
Pkew (exploding noise).
So I'm just staring at Aidan because of course this makes no sense when he volunteers this crucial bit of information: "It also works if you say Dennis."
Well, maybe you had to be there. It was the most surreal thing he could have said, and he was completely serious. I haven't laughed that hard in quite some time.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Writing is like...
Do you remember that seen from the movie Fight Club when the recruits are standing on the porch, and every so often Brad Pitt will go out there and kick their bag down the steps and tell them to go home, they'll never make the cut, they're too fat, thin, blond, whatever. I think that's what writing is like. And no one tells you how long you have to stay on the porch before they let you in.
Wasn't Meatloaf good in that movie? Is it Meatloaf or Meat Loaf? I think I've officially digressed...
Wasn't Meatloaf good in that movie? Is it Meatloaf or Meat Loaf? I think I've officially digressed...
Cave painting
We restarted history.
We have been using Story of the World for nearly three years, but Aidan was getting more and more bored with it. It's supposed to be written for third graders, but it's so dull! So we stopped doing history about a month ago so I could figure out what to do next.
My final decision: start all over. So here we are: prehistory. The Ice Age. Cave painting.
Of course this was 10+ minutes of set up, and nearly half an hour of clean-up, for something that took fifteen minutes to do. Typical.
We have been using Story of the World for nearly three years, but Aidan was getting more and more bored with it. It's supposed to be written for third graders, but it's so dull! So we stopped doing history about a month ago so I could figure out what to do next.
My final decision: start all over. So here we are: prehistory. The Ice Age. Cave painting.
Of course this was 10+ minutes of set up, and nearly half an hour of clean-up, for something that took fifteen minutes to do. Typical.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Bloggity Blog Blog Music Blog
I love the itunes on my computer. I've always wanted a jukebox for my CDs, but now I don't even need one. I've never been a big reader of liner notes, so downloading music is cool for me too. My two latest acquisitions are the newest discs from the Backstreet Boys and Nine Inch Nails. I feel fairly confident I'm the only one buying that combination.
The Backstreet Boys was more of the usual, middle of the road but well sung. They always talk about how they are all so different, one likes hard rock, one wants to do more Latin, another wants to get into Christian music. They should do what the Beatles did on the White Album; divide up the tracks and have at it. That would be a disc worth listening to. The lowest common denominator of their combined passions does not have much zest.
But it did come with a free QuickTime video. And a booklet which I've honestly haven't looked at yet (see above, liner notes).
The Nine Inch Nails, With Teeth, I'm really enjoying. In my opinion, it's the best NIN front-to-back listen since Pretty Hate Machine. I know, I know, Downward Spiral is supposed to be the masterpiece, but I found most of the songs went on too long. I realize as I say this that I am being the Emperor in the movie Amadeus ("There are too many notes. Just cut a few and it will be perfect!"). I wonder how many other suburban work-at-home moms listen to NIN. Probably not as many as listen to the Backstreet Boys.
I just got a new book on my all-time favorite band, a-ha. It starts out like this: "When a pop song makes you wonder if it's written by an idiot or a genius, it is almost certainly a hit. Take on Me is a song like that." This is probably the most positive thing the whole book has to say, but it was a very interesting read. Apparently they were hoping to have a career track like the Beatles - one big hit and the record company would give them total autonomy. So they wrote that one big hit... and never got out from under it. Their new disc comes out sometime this fall, but I don't know yet if Amazon.com will carry it as an import or if I'll have to pay steep eBay prices. They say it will be "dance music for the soul" which already has me intrigued.
The Backstreet Boys was more of the usual, middle of the road but well sung. They always talk about how they are all so different, one likes hard rock, one wants to do more Latin, another wants to get into Christian music. They should do what the Beatles did on the White Album; divide up the tracks and have at it. That would be a disc worth listening to. The lowest common denominator of their combined passions does not have much zest.
But it did come with a free QuickTime video. And a booklet which I've honestly haven't looked at yet (see above, liner notes).
The Nine Inch Nails, With Teeth, I'm really enjoying. In my opinion, it's the best NIN front-to-back listen since Pretty Hate Machine. I know, I know, Downward Spiral is supposed to be the masterpiece, but I found most of the songs went on too long. I realize as I say this that I am being the Emperor in the movie Amadeus ("There are too many notes. Just cut a few and it will be perfect!"). I wonder how many other suburban work-at-home moms listen to NIN. Probably not as many as listen to the Backstreet Boys.
I just got a new book on my all-time favorite band, a-ha. It starts out like this: "When a pop song makes you wonder if it's written by an idiot or a genius, it is almost certainly a hit. Take on Me is a song like that." This is probably the most positive thing the whole book has to say, but it was a very interesting read. Apparently they were hoping to have a career track like the Beatles - one big hit and the record company would give them total autonomy. So they wrote that one big hit... and never got out from under it. Their new disc comes out sometime this fall, but I don't know yet if Amazon.com will carry it as an import or if I'll have to pay steep eBay prices. They say it will be "dance music for the soul" which already has me intrigued.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Addendum to previous post
As it turns out, the service station guys replaced the wrong tire. I drove all the way home on that madly hissing iffy tire and didn't even realize it. In a way I had sort of noticed, because the completely wrecked tire was gone from the back of the car, and the new Dunlop tire was on the front. I mean, I looked at it before I got in the car to drove home and noticed this and was feeling stupid because I thought I really should understand why they had to swap all the tires around, like this was something normal people know and are not confused by. When we got home I looked again, but had that same confused, I wish I wasn't so dumb about cars feeling.
It never occurred to me that the tire guys had apparently not been listening to me when I explained what I needed done and just did the most obvious thing. Perhaps I should be been clearer. Passenger, rear seems pretty clear. At any rate, by the time Quin got home it was completely flat. He doesn't trust anything, not the job the tire guys did or my word that I didn't hear anything clanging across the bottom of the car, so on Monday he's going to have it towed to the Subaru dealership to get it thoroughly looked over. It needed its first routine maintenance visit anyway.
So we're back to one car for the next few days. I went a year without leaving the house during the day, but just today - and it's not like I had anywhere to go - I felt really trapped. Still, it's not like my house just got washed away or anything. Trying to keep it in perspective.
It never occurred to me that the tire guys had apparently not been listening to me when I explained what I needed done and just did the most obvious thing. Perhaps I should be been clearer. Passenger, rear seems pretty clear. At any rate, by the time Quin got home it was completely flat. He doesn't trust anything, not the job the tire guys did or my word that I didn't hear anything clanging across the bottom of the car, so on Monday he's going to have it towed to the Subaru dealership to get it thoroughly looked over. It needed its first routine maintenance visit anyway.
So we're back to one car for the next few days. I went a year without leaving the house during the day, but just today - and it's not like I had anywhere to go - I felt really trapped. Still, it's not like my house just got washed away or anything. Trying to keep it in perspective.
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