(this reminds me that we have this awesome ice cream store in our neighborhood called Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous. because of this, my girls think the word "miscellaneous" always has "Mr. and Mrs." attached to it, as in "should I put this away in the Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous bin?")
-update the first: forgot to mention that the inspiration for yesterday's post was a woman from whom I bought coffee yesterday afternoon (there was a lot of buying of beverages yesterday, and it turns out, not unexpectedly, that I'm sick, so now it all makes sense). the conversation went one further than most post-coffee thank yous:
her: "here is your [embarrassing adjectives describing my coffee] latte."
me: "thanks so much."
her: "have a good day."
me: "you as well."
her: "I'll do that."
this cracked me up. I mean, as part of customer service, I certainly don't expect someone to actually have a good day just because I suggested it, but it was what got me thinking about saying yes in the first place.
-update the second:
for those who are following along with the conversation about book promotion, the article about twitter is here. I initially found the article through the blog of literary agent Janet Reid. she also has an immensely helpful blog that critiques query letters.
update the third:
at the end of this post in which I describe the many things I'm waiting for, I forgot to mention waiting very impatiently for the ides of March when Vampire Diaries will finally resume.
-update the fourth:
it's been bugging me for a long time that in this post in which I list all the reasons I blog I forgot to include what is perhaps the most important one: to entertain people who are bored at work! isn't that what the internet was invented for, after all?
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
saying yes
one of the first rules of improv comedy is to always take the baton--in other words, to say yes to what your teammates hand you. Stephen Colbert explains the concept more elegantly here, but the basic idea is that if someone asks you on stage why you have a gorilla in your bedroom, you do anything except deny it. denying it kills the story and kills the fun. instead, you go one further. "one gorilla?" you say. "where did the other three go?"
this concept applies equally well to parenting, at least as far as playing with your children goes. I've probably been asked several hundred times the following question by a child carrying a pretend doctor's kit:
"Mommy, are you sick?"
(no, I am not sick. and if I am, I'm only sick of playing this game.)
this is the moment when I often have to reach into my deep reserves because saying no comes much more naturally to me. but of course, if you want the play to continue you'd better cough your guts out and ask for the most intimidating needle the bag can provide.
so often for me, saying yes is about getting out of my comfort zone (where I really could live for the absolute rest of my life). whether socially or professionally, it's about pushing boundaries that would normally keep me safe safe safe. and, you know. it's hard.
for example, I've been gaining a lot of new information lately that pertains to the world of writing and publishing. my initial feeling is no, no no! I am not ever going to tweet five times a day! attract a following of thousands. and many other suggestions that, while helpful, are also completely not my thing.
but I'm trying to remind myself that saying no doesn't buy me much. so, really, it's probably time to, you know.. *cough* *cough*
this concept applies equally well to parenting, at least as far as playing with your children goes. I've probably been asked several hundred times the following question by a child carrying a pretend doctor's kit:
"Mommy, are you sick?"
(no, I am not sick. and if I am, I'm only sick of playing this game.)
this is the moment when I often have to reach into my deep reserves because saying no comes much more naturally to me. but of course, if you want the play to continue you'd better cough your guts out and ask for the most intimidating needle the bag can provide.
so often for me, saying yes is about getting out of my comfort zone (where I really could live for the absolute rest of my life). whether socially or professionally, it's about pushing boundaries that would normally keep me safe safe safe. and, you know. it's hard.
for example, I've been gaining a lot of new information lately that pertains to the world of writing and publishing. my initial feeling is no, no no! I am not ever going to tweet five times a day! attract a following of thousands. and many other suggestions that, while helpful, are also completely not my thing.
but I'm trying to remind myself that saying no doesn't buy me much. so, really, it's probably time to, you know.. *cough* *cough*
Saturday, February 25, 2012
straddling the line between auspicious and creepy
those of you who don't knit--or who, as I used to, think knitters are middle-aged soccer moms (heh.. wait a minute!)--please give me the benefit of the next few paragraphs after which it will become clear that this post is not really about knitting.
it all starts with my friend Kelsey, who is a weekly guest at our house during "game night" (when we play obscure German board games sometimes for hours). she is charismatic enough that she broke through my prejudices and convinced me to learn to knit and kind enough that she provided me with a ball of yarn which I knit to the death until it was too frayed to knit anymore, after which I was stranded in Hawaii facing a five-hour return flight with four children and no remaining yarn. my best friend Krista, savior that she is, gave me a gorgeous soft skein of coral wool to start a new project with, and so, during that flight, I began making a doll blanket for my childhood doll bed (which now lives in my girls' room but for which all bedding has been lost to history).
but even doll blankets require a surprising amount of yarn, and it soon (by which I mean at least twenty hours of knitting later) became obvious that I'd need a second skein to finish the project. unlike experienced knitters who keep the label of their yarn, I'd discarded mine during the frenzy of packing. all I knew about the yarn was that it was wool.
I'd been told many times about a particular yarn store in San Francisco located in the Castro, and this past Thursday while driving home from the girls' swimming class in the late afternoon I noticed it was coming up on the next block. the gods must have been smiling at me because there was a parking spot right in front of the store, something that never happens in San Francisco, but something that made it possible for me to actually enter despite having three small children along for the ride.
three small children, yes, but my knitting? no, that was at home on top of the mantle. so while I was physically in the store, I did not know the name of the type of yarn. I did not know the name of the color of the yarn. I did not know the size of the yarn. and yarn stores, for those not in the know, are magical palaces full of every type of yarn you could possibly imagine (should you wish to engage in such an exercise), plus much much more.
you can probably guess the conclusion to this tale. somehow, against all odds, I left the yarn store with a perfect match. I've since knitted the new skein in and the transition is completely invisible.
this has to be a good sign, right? a blessing of some sort? maybe I need to hope so because there are so many things on the horizon right now. Juniper's kindergarten and Carter's middle school acceptances, for one, in only a little more than two weeks. Hazel and Clementine's preschool ones in a few days. query letters sent, manuscripts emailed, contests entered--so many practices of risk, of putting desires into the world on the chance that something good will occur.
on the chance that, against the odds, there will be a match.
it all starts with my friend Kelsey, who is a weekly guest at our house during "game night" (when we play obscure German board games sometimes for hours). she is charismatic enough that she broke through my prejudices and convinced me to learn to knit and kind enough that she provided me with a ball of yarn which I knit to the death until it was too frayed to knit anymore, after which I was stranded in Hawaii facing a five-hour return flight with four children and no remaining yarn. my best friend Krista, savior that she is, gave me a gorgeous soft skein of coral wool to start a new project with, and so, during that flight, I began making a doll blanket for my childhood doll bed (which now lives in my girls' room but for which all bedding has been lost to history).
but even doll blankets require a surprising amount of yarn, and it soon (by which I mean at least twenty hours of knitting later) became obvious that I'd need a second skein to finish the project. unlike experienced knitters who keep the label of their yarn, I'd discarded mine during the frenzy of packing. all I knew about the yarn was that it was wool.
I'd been told many times about a particular yarn store in San Francisco located in the Castro, and this past Thursday while driving home from the girls' swimming class in the late afternoon I noticed it was coming up on the next block. the gods must have been smiling at me because there was a parking spot right in front of the store, something that never happens in San Francisco, but something that made it possible for me to actually enter despite having three small children along for the ride.
three small children, yes, but my knitting? no, that was at home on top of the mantle. so while I was physically in the store, I did not know the name of the type of yarn. I did not know the name of the color of the yarn. I did not know the size of the yarn. and yarn stores, for those not in the know, are magical palaces full of every type of yarn you could possibly imagine (should you wish to engage in such an exercise), plus much much more.
you can probably guess the conclusion to this tale. somehow, against all odds, I left the yarn store with a perfect match. I've since knitted the new skein in and the transition is completely invisible.
this has to be a good sign, right? a blessing of some sort? maybe I need to hope so because there are so many things on the horizon right now. Juniper's kindergarten and Carter's middle school acceptances, for one, in only a little more than two weeks. Hazel and Clementine's preschool ones in a few days. query letters sent, manuscripts emailed, contests entered--so many practices of risk, of putting desires into the world on the chance that something good will occur.
on the chance that, against the odds, there will be a match.
Hunger
Recently saw a trailer for _The Hunger Games_ and I held my breath pretty much through the whole piece. That book is just made to be a movie. It was powerful as a book, certainly, but via images even more so. So who's going with me on opening night?
Two other things worthy mentioning about THG. First, even my Dad is reading it. Now sure how that happened as we've never overlapped on this kind of thing before. And he can recognize the quality of the writing, which is cool, because he also loved the Dragon Tattoo books (which were great stories but the subject-verb-object strategy got immensely boring after all those pages).
Second, some of the movie's leads are making PSAs about world hunger. I think that is so awesome using tie ins to do good.
Two other things worthy mentioning about THG. First, even my Dad is reading it. Now sure how that happened as we've never overlapped on this kind of thing before. And he can recognize the quality of the writing, which is cool, because he also loved the Dragon Tattoo books (which were great stories but the subject-verb-object strategy got immensely boring after all those pages).
Second, some of the movie's leads are making PSAs about world hunger. I think that is so awesome using tie ins to do good.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
dark days
Update 2/24: The Red Cross has just begun evacuating women, children, and the injured out of Homs, thank heavens.
---
It's been a terrible week in Syria. Reports suggest at least seventy people have been killed in the last 24 hours, several journalists among them. There are rumors of systemic, willful human rights violations by Syrian commanders as well as the order to target journalists. And the world is still struggling over whether to take action.
---
It's been a terrible week in Syria. Reports suggest at least seventy people have been killed in the last 24 hours, several journalists among them. There are rumors of systemic, willful human rights violations by Syrian commanders as well as the order to target journalists. And the world is still struggling over whether to take action.
Shortly before her death in Syria yesterday, London's Sunday Times American foreign correspondent Marie Colvin fought to have her final story placed outside of the pay wall so that the atrocities it described could be viewed by more readers. Discussing the story with other journalists in the final hours of her life, she wrote:
"I think the reports of my survival may be exaggerated. I'm in Baba Amir. It's sickening trying to understand how the world can stand by and I should be hardened by now. I watched a baby die today. Shrapnel. The doctors could do nothing. His little tummy just heaved and heaved until it stopped. I'm feeling helpless as well as cold. I will keep trying to get out the information."
Over a dozen journalists have already been killed around the world so far this year as they work to "get out the information" in hopes that that information will change the world.
Monday, February 20, 2012
book the second
in spite of the fact that I should really be either (a) revising the first book or (b) working on its sequel, I am instead (probably due to to being in such a waiting place on the first one) already moving forward on a totally different story which I'm super excited about. I probably shouldn't say too much about it until I have it more fleshed out, but while the first one was a time-travel adventure/romance, this is a post-apocalypic adventure/romance, kind of intended as a re-imagining of the premise of 1,001 Arabian Nights. is it too early on one's second book to already be having the meta-exploration of writing about the power of stories? (that's rhetorical--if you think it is, don't say anything, because I'm loving this tale.)
not only is this book coming together, I already have six songs on its "soundtrack" (embarrassingly enough, four of them came from various Vampire Diaries episodes and one from one of my favorite YA authors, Veronica Roth). having the beginning of a soundtrack--a playlist of songs I listen to consistently when I'm doing the actual writing of the book--makes the book seem real in a way that's different than just brainstorming/outlining/dreaming. this book is going to get written. I just have to locate the hours.
writing a book, as far as I can tell from my limited experience, is for me such a process of collage. it's a weaving of thoughts and ideas with past experiences, current interests, little things that give me the chills, and subconscious snippets, often actually from dreams. one little piece that I'm working to weave in right now comes from history. it's going to be inspired by the chilling story of Tariq ibn Ziyad, a Muslim general who led a conquest of Spain in the eight century. he brings this large army by sea to land at Gibraltar. as soon as they're on shore, he burns all the ships behind them, eliminating any possibility of retreat. then he gives this speech that starts, "Oh my warriors, whither would you flee? Behind you is the sea, before you, the enemy." in other words, there's no going back, so you damn well better fight.
did I mention that they won?
completely awesome. who needs imagination when history is itself so fascinating and freaky?
not only is this book coming together, I already have six songs on its "soundtrack" (embarrassingly enough, four of them came from various Vampire Diaries episodes and one from one of my favorite YA authors, Veronica Roth). having the beginning of a soundtrack--a playlist of songs I listen to consistently when I'm doing the actual writing of the book--makes the book seem real in a way that's different than just brainstorming/outlining/dreaming. this book is going to get written. I just have to locate the hours.
writing a book, as far as I can tell from my limited experience, is for me such a process of collage. it's a weaving of thoughts and ideas with past experiences, current interests, little things that give me the chills, and subconscious snippets, often actually from dreams. one little piece that I'm working to weave in right now comes from history. it's going to be inspired by the chilling story of Tariq ibn Ziyad, a Muslim general who led a conquest of Spain in the eight century. he brings this large army by sea to land at Gibraltar. as soon as they're on shore, he burns all the ships behind them, eliminating any possibility of retreat. then he gives this speech that starts, "Oh my warriors, whither would you flee? Behind you is the sea, before you, the enemy." in other words, there's no going back, so you damn well better fight.
did I mention that they won?
completely awesome. who needs imagination when history is itself so fascinating and freaky?
Sunday, February 19, 2012
safe passage
New York Times journalist Anthony Shadid died on Thursday in Syria. I had a hard time articulating to Gavin why this story touched me so much, so I thought I'd take another stab at it. Gavin's fascinated by politics, so stories about scenarios I consider largely irrelevant (read: Gingrich asking wife #2 for an "open marriage" six years into his affair with his current wife) fascinate him, in truth because he digs the theater of politics. for me, the story of Shahid's life was immensely powerful. This is a guy, a famous journalist who's fluent in Arabic, who's risking his life routinely, in spite of having a family back at home, because without journalists like him there is no chance that the atrocities happening over the last couple of years in the Middle East could be communicated to the world. last year he's captured, held, and tortured in Libya for a week and when the time comes to tell the story of the Syrian resistance he still gets back in there because that's what he does. and then, because he needs to rely on animals to cross over into Syria illegally (since of course Syria greatly limits international reporters' access there), his asthma is triggered and he dies of an asthma attack. And after he does, the NYT photographer traveling with him, Tyler Hicks, carries his body back over the border into Turkey so that he can return to his family at last.
So when asked to decide who's more important to the world--who has had the greater impact--unlike Gavin I pick Shahid every time.
and it turns out that the world is full of unexpected heroes.
So when asked to decide who's more important to the world--who has had the greater impact--unlike Gavin I pick Shahid every time.
and it turns out that the world is full of unexpected heroes.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
our little experiments
some hip skater boy is using our (hilly) block for practice. we like skater boys--there is one in "the book."
Juniper: "he is going to have an accident!"
Clementine: "what is that person doing?"
Hazel: "wheee!"
Monday, February 13, 2012
lasting
The woman--really in the late stages of girlhood--sits down at our table. She holds Juniper's hand. She looks into her eyes sincerely, listening to what Juniper has to say and responding back with warmth and intelligence. She signs her autograph and poses for a picture. After a few moments, she moves on to the next table.
She is a Disney Princess, and this is what she does, one child at a time, all day long.
This weekend we met quite a few princesses and characters and not all of them were as attentive as Princess Mulan. I can't imagine how exhausting it must be to be so present. But the very best actors and actresses seemed to understand that the moment that for them was totally forgettable was to the individual child something immensely magical.
Part of parenting is the desire to evoke for your child these moments of transcendence (of course, not talking princesses anymore, at least most of the time). It's kind of "pay it forward" from our own childhoods (or in some cases, compensation for various lacks). But overall it's a creative process, one that I think has a lot in common with telling a story (in whatever medium). You hope to create an experience for your audiences. To pull them out of every day life. To make a memory.
She is a Disney Princess, and this is what she does, one child at a time, all day long.
This weekend we met quite a few princesses and characters and not all of them were as attentive as Princess Mulan. I can't imagine how exhausting it must be to be so present. But the very best actors and actresses seemed to understand that the moment that for them was totally forgettable was to the individual child something immensely magical.
Part of parenting is the desire to evoke for your child these moments of transcendence (of course, not talking princesses anymore, at least most of the time). It's kind of "pay it forward" from our own childhoods (or in some cases, compensation for various lacks). But overall it's a creative process, one that I think has a lot in common with telling a story (in whatever medium). You hope to create an experience for your audiences. To pull them out of every day life. To make a memory.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
the working life
I haven't been doing all that I really want to with blogging lately, which I've been reflecting on over the past couple of weeks. when I started blogging again five-ish months ago, I had a few goals. I'd been a prolific blogger in the past and I was horrified that the first four years of family life had been left undocumented. It was time to rectify that, plus to reconnect with old friends and readers and maybe connect with new ones. And I am completely aware that writing requires practice, and regular writing, no matter how disconnected to larger projects it might be, is still exercise.
But a major goal when I started blogging again was to write about writing the book. So far I've completely failed at that goal. Even worse, the last few months have been so completely occupied by the book that there hasn't been enough leftover energy/creativity/whatever to put in here.
So I thought I should start trying to at least weave this thread in. Maybe eventually the book will be a separate blog, but first I need to actually write about it.
For the last three or four years, I've been working on a "young adult" (YA) novel. The tragic thing about this is that I wrote almost the whole thing, then scrapped it. I had to go back to reading in the genre and figuring out what I really liked before I could rewrite it from scratch. This fall I got on track with the new plan and this winter finished the first draft. The crazy thing is that, as flawed and messy as the book may be, I think it's at least taught me how to write a book. Three years ago I was paralyzed in so many ways; today I have three other novels in brainstorming stage and I'm not scared of trying to sketch out a story the way I once was.
I guess everything is like this--something feels completely impossible at first, and then once you dive in you start to figure it out, and then once you've done it for a while you start to feel like it could be kind of ok to keep doing it.
Tonight a friend was telling me that if I had to write a book in today's publishing market at least I chose YA, which is supposed to be an expanding market. I told her that I don't think I have the maturity to write adult fiction. I don't know how to have adult thoughts, much less capture adults in writing. My favorite books are all from the young adult genre these days! My PhD student self is rolling over in her (literary) grave, but I think YA is the perfect space for me.
Anyway, these last few months I have had the quite amazing experience of coming out of writing sessions blinking in the sunlight of reality--i.e. having been so immersed in the world of the story that real life was confusing. That is an experience I hope everyone gets to have in their own way and own genre. For the lucky, like my husband, that experience is called your job.
But a major goal when I started blogging again was to write about writing the book. So far I've completely failed at that goal. Even worse, the last few months have been so completely occupied by the book that there hasn't been enough leftover energy/creativity/whatever to put in here.
So I thought I should start trying to at least weave this thread in. Maybe eventually the book will be a separate blog, but first I need to actually write about it.
For the last three or four years, I've been working on a "young adult" (YA) novel. The tragic thing about this is that I wrote almost the whole thing, then scrapped it. I had to go back to reading in the genre and figuring out what I really liked before I could rewrite it from scratch. This fall I got on track with the new plan and this winter finished the first draft. The crazy thing is that, as flawed and messy as the book may be, I think it's at least taught me how to write a book. Three years ago I was paralyzed in so many ways; today I have three other novels in brainstorming stage and I'm not scared of trying to sketch out a story the way I once was.
I guess everything is like this--something feels completely impossible at first, and then once you dive in you start to figure it out, and then once you've done it for a while you start to feel like it could be kind of ok to keep doing it.
Tonight a friend was telling me that if I had to write a book in today's publishing market at least I chose YA, which is supposed to be an expanding market. I told her that I don't think I have the maturity to write adult fiction. I don't know how to have adult thoughts, much less capture adults in writing. My favorite books are all from the young adult genre these days! My PhD student self is rolling over in her (literary) grave, but I think YA is the perfect space for me.
Anyway, these last few months I have had the quite amazing experience of coming out of writing sessions blinking in the sunlight of reality--i.e. having been so immersed in the world of the story that real life was confusing. That is an experience I hope everyone gets to have in their own way and own genre. For the lucky, like my husband, that experience is called your job.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
the deepest cut
before we got on the plane, my father took the girls shopping for something to play with during their flight. they came back with a nintendo game for Carter and three disney princess dolls for the three of them. Hazel chose Cinderella, Juniper chose Snow White, and Clementine chose Rapunzel, an extra-special doll that comes with two-toned hair and a pet iguana. suffice it to say, a good time was had by all on the plane, including me and Gavin (first time during a flight ever since Juniper was born).
today as we were driving to school the girls were trying to find a way to express the depths of their affection for their new dolls. unfortunately, they've already figured out the value of comparison in reaching that goal:
Juniper: "Mommy, I love Snow White more than I love you."
Clementine: "Mommy, I love Rapunzel more than I love you."
Hazel: "Mammmy, I huv Hinhella more huv you."
me: "well, I love you girls more than anything."
Clementine: "Mommy, I love Rapunzel's pet more than I love you."
today as we were driving to school the girls were trying to find a way to express the depths of their affection for their new dolls. unfortunately, they've already figured out the value of comparison in reaching that goal:
Juniper: "Mommy, I love Snow White more than I love you."
Clementine: "Mommy, I love Rapunzel more than I love you."
Hazel: "Mammmy, I huv Hinhella more huv you."
me: "well, I love you girls more than anything."
Clementine: "Mommy, I love Rapunzel's pet more than I love you."
Sunday, February 5, 2012
doppelgangers
Clementine, a few days ago: "I'm tired of this family. I'm going to a new family soon."
Gavin: "Oh yeah? When will you be leaving?"
Clementine: "Thursday."
Carter: "This Thursday or next Thursday?"
Clementine: "This Thursday."
---
Gavin, today: "Quieres agua?"
Clementine: "Why are you speaking in Spanish?"
Gavin: "I'm practicing."
Clementine: "What are you practicing for?"
Gavin: "Haven't I told you? On Thursday we're getting a new Clementine and she only speaks Spanish."
Thursday, February 2, 2012
language lessons
Clementine to Juniper: "Juniper, how do you say 'no' in Spanish?"
Juniper to Clementine: "no se."
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