Writing Prompt One

For whatever reason, I'm finding it difficult to sit down and make the time to write. You'd think with no more class twice a week nor the homework required for them, I’d be writing reams every day. Sadly, this is not the case. While I want to blame it on the myriad of other interesting things I’ve found to do with that “free time”, I have to admit to a certain lack of inspiration. Some of the voices have become more subdued. As odd as it sounds, I have to chalk it up to my own summertime happiness; I seem to write better when I’m angsty and stressed (if I can find the time – go figure, huh?). I think it also has to do with the lack of a weekly writing group, like the one I have during my actual school year. This will not do, I’ve told myself, and as a result of last weekend’s grad school BBQ, I’ve made a firm resolution to write a little bit, if not every day, then certainly every week.

To get back in the spirit of things, I've decided to post my weekly responses to a writing prompt featured on this blog. The blog belongs to (or is written by) a former professor of mine, Jo Knowles, who has one published teen novel (Lessons From a Dead Girl) and is eagerly awaiting the publication of her second (Jumping Off Swings). When she was my professor, we would begin each class with an 8 minute writing prompt – she would give us the prompt, we would scribble away furiously for 8 minutes, and then go around the room reading these little unedited gems of whatever monthly, weekly, or daily neurosis had worked its way into our creative brains. We all agreed that those prompts were the best way to begin any creative writing class. In my own experience, the first inkling of what is now my teen novel-in-progress came out of one of these prompts, so I owe Jo quite a lot.

As much as I would like to commit to “every Monday morning at x-o’clock, I will sit down for this 10-minute writing exercise,” the reality of that happening is a little shoddy at best. Instead, I will firmly announce that sometime over the course of a week, I will answer the call of the prompt, and will not only write it, but will also post it for the world to see and possibly comment upon, if they so see fit. Comments are accepted, though not expected, and they don’t have to be nice either, feel free to tell me my writing is crap. I can take it.

Of course I’ve taken so long to write this post announcing my intention, that I have not left myself any time to actually answer this week’s prompt. I’ll have to get back to you on that. Stay tuned!

Word of the day: Awry

I like this word because it’s fun to say with a silly inflection, and also can be defined with one-word definitions that also both start with “a”.

Definition: 1) askew; 2) amiss

Blog Wordle

For those of you who have not yet discovered the awesome (in the original sense of the word, actually inspiring great awe) power of www.wordle.net, you've been missing out friends.

Don't worry, I was, too, until my friend sent me the link today. It's never too late to Wordle. Here is what it came up with for this blog:



(click on it, it takes you to Wordle, where you can see it in a larger size)

What Wordles have you come up with?

Good in theory, Bad in practice

I apologize for the brief hiatus I've taken in June. Inspiration has been as difficult to come by as the time in which to take advantage of it, if it happens by. Luckily, I find myself with both inspiration and a modicum of time this morning, and so will take a moment to share my thoughts.

A friend recently introduced me to a new invention by Purex: Purex Complete 3-in-1 Laundry Sheets. These revolutionary laundry-assisting sheets release detergent during the wash cycle, then moving from the washer to the dryer with the clothes, releases a softener and static reducer during the dry cycle. While my friend has been wooed by their commercial advertisements and reputed convenience, I'm a bit more skeptical. For instance, the softener and static reducer are apparently heat-activated, and therefor able to be released only through the power of hot air in the dryer. But what if you wash a load in hot water? How does the miracle sheet know to not release it all at one time, but to save the softener/static reducer for the dry heat of the dryer rather than the wet heat of a soapy load?

I'm concerned that much like the invention of the 2-in-1 Shampoo/Conditioner of a few years ago, this new product will fall into the category of good in theory, doesn't work quite so well in practice. Perhaps it's because I have thick hair, but the shampoo/conditioner combo never seems to wash out all the way and I get left with dank, residue-coated hair (or maybe that's all in my head - no pun intended). What's to say something similar won't happen with the 3-in-1 laundry sheet? It's not just two things anymore, they've even added a third! Excuse me for not putting my complete trust in the ability of an inanimate object to act according to its designated purpose.

This is all a moot point in my own life anyway because I use Seventh Generation, environmentally friendly laundry detergent, and Bounce Free & Clear dryer sheets. I know, I know, I even go to a laundromat that has recently purchased all new environmentally friendly/more effecient washers and dryers (though that one wasn't my fault, I was perfectly happy going there when it was shady and the machines worked only half the time). Half the time I feel like a pretentious ass, but the other day I was forced to use some regular Tide on my clothes, and I swear my skin itched when I put them on after not having used chemicals in my clothes for so long, so I know it's worth it. Which really just begs the point, what sort of shit are they putting into a 3-in-1 laundry sheet to make it do what it does and how can any of that be good for you, your clothes, or the environment? Just saying. Purex, I'm onto you. You're gonna have to try a little harder to make me believe.

Book: The Sequel

It's amazing how a good idea can turn bad so quickly when the general idiotic public is involved. Perseus Book Group had a brilliant idea: collect suggestions for the first line of a sequel to a famous (or not-so-famous) work. So fine, maybe not up there with the cure for cancer, but a pretty good literary exercise, right?

Why is it, then, that the most moronic suggestions have been made for what otherwise should have brought out some of the most inspired first-liners in novel-writing history?

Gems such as:

... Well, fuck this! —From The Lord of the Rings: The Retirement of the King (sequel to The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King by J. R. R. Tolkien)

I mean, really? That's worth printing? What, was it based on its originality?

or

"Tom, darling, I think it's time we replaced that bug zapper on the dock," said Daisy as she langorously stretched out on the divan. "Someone might find that green light distracting." —From The Banal Buchanans (sequel to The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald)

Clever.

or

HappyMeals are all alike; each unhappy meal is unhappy in its own way. —From Anna McKarenina (sequel to Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy)

Profound.

These are just a few examples from the soon-to-be-published masterpiece collection (available sometime in June 2009). You can check out other submissions at the official BOOK: The Sequel website.

According to Shelf Awareness,
Submissions have come from all over the U.S., as well as England, the Philippines, Taiwan, Japan, Madagascar and New Zealand.

Most popular authors:

1. Jane Austen
2. Charles Dickens
3. George Orwell
4. William Shakespeare
5. F. Scott Fitzgerald
6. Herman Melville
7. Ayn Rand
8. J.K. Rowling
9. Franz Kafka
10. Margaret Mitchell

Most popular works:

1. Pride and Prejudice
2. The Bible
3. The Great Gatsby
4. Moby-Dick
5. 1984
6. Harry Potter
7. A Tale of Two Cities
8. Metamorphosis
9. Gone with the Wind
10. Atlas Shrugged

When ranting about this to my co-worker, she was reading some of the submissions over my shoulder and was laughing over many of them. I just want to put this disclaimer in that it's possible I'm ranting preemptively, have broken my funny bone, lost my sense of humor, am too highbrow or too sensitive to appreciate the nuanced suggestions this project is collecting. It's quite possible you will find them hilarious. I guess my overall point is that I wanted to read the type of sentence that would actually make someone writing whatever sequel it is worthwhile. Instead, it's a little bit too much amateur comedy hour at the local townie bar for me.

Of course, notice I haven't offered up my own first-liner suggestion. Hypocritical? Probably. But since I'm actually writing a novel, though not a sequel to anything, I'll save my first-liners; you can read them when I'm published.

Word of the Day

Second word I've consciously added to my vocabulary - one I probably should have known a long time ago:

Propinquity
(Not to be confused with the obscure, one-record-producing, acoustic folk rock band from Colorado by this name; nor is it to be confused with one of the lost songs by The Monkees, also by this name. What is it with bad music and this word? I think it deserves a cooler reference/association. Sorry if I've just offended any Monkees fans.)

The word was first discovered (by me) in a Gina Barreca column in the passage:
"Propinquity is a poor basis for life-long passion. Just because you brush up against somebody in the dark a few times doesn't mean you have to vow to love them forever." Well said, Gina, well said.

Definition: 1. nearness in place, proximity (dictionary.com), 2. kinship (American Heritage Dictionary, 3. one of the main factors leading to interpersonal attraction (wikipedia.com)

According to wikipedia, the propinquity effect is the tendency for people to form friendships or romantic relationships with those whom they encounter often.

There's an actual term for that? I thought that was called "smart livin'". Or maybe, "how real life works for those who are not agoraphobic". Apparently "propinquity effect" is the more technical description. Mental note.

Ode to the sensual book

An article was recently published in The Guardian I thought you all would enjoy reading. It's a wonderful ode to the book and the indie bookstore. Mostly about the book, though, and how it's a complete sensory and sensual pleasure. Check it out here.

Lumberjack to lingerie

I'd like to discuss the versatile nature of the suspender.

*Disclaimer: because I'm not British, when I say suspender, I'm referring to the elasticized pieces of material that connect to the waistband of pants, criss-cross in the back, and attach again to the waistband in front. I am not speaking about a garter belt, though I suppose that might deserve its own post at some point, too.

How did such an innocuous clothing accessory as the suspender gain such a multifaceted personality?

When you consider suspenders started off as merely a way to hold up pants before the evermore practical belt was invented...



(which, apparently, wasn't until around WWI)





...made a reappearance as an accessory to the popular punk, tight jeans and white tee look...







...and now have morphed into something pseudo-sexy when worn by cute girls over a beater, some slutty shirt, or nothing at all, that's really quite a journey for the simple suspender to have made.



There's a certain appealing sexiness to them, when worn the right way. (No? Just me?) As in, non-lumberjack style, though I may have worn them in that way at least once myself, sadly only partially ironically. And, no, I don't find Larry King in suspenders sexy. Or Larry King sexy at all.

This picture is what started me on my recent suspender musings. I know, there's not even a display of skin, but it was something about the way the suspenders peek out and the hint of tie, and let's face it, this could probably be either a man or a woman, which is kind of sexy in itself.


This is all simply to say, don't forget the suspenders when you're rifling through your closet making the winter to spring to summer switch. I suspect they can add quite the punch to an otherwise seasoned outfit. And for all those considering a summer outdoor wedding, let's not forget we do live in farm country - suspenders on groomsmen, a must.

Book Review: Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
Hardcover: 9780385342308, $23

Intriguing cover. Interesting premise. Snotty British accents. Child narrator interested in chemistry and the properties of poison. Murder over stamp collecting.

It all sounds like it would lead to a rompy, well-written, literary, murder mystery of a novel doesn't it? And it almost does, with the slight exception that (to me, my own opinion here) it's just pretentious and aware of itself enough that I kept getting pulled out of the story, had to put the book down, go away for a while, and in the end it took me about 2 months to finish! But, for all of those readers out there who enjoy a book about the English countryside, and all manner of things relating to people in the English countryside - nosy neighbors, privileged family with land but no money, boarding school chums, custard pie - this is the perfect read.

Flavia De Luce could easily be the criminal mastermind of post-World War II Britain, despite being only 11 year's old. She's fascinated by all things chemistry, but especially the chemical properties of poisons. When a red-headed midnight visitor to her father is discovered dead in the cucumber patch below her bedroom window, Falvia sets out to solve the mystery of the stranger's death - partially to prove her father's innocence (he's been charged with the murder), and partially because she's fixated on the mysterious death and wants to unearth the chemical properties that might have caused it. Despite of (or with the help of?) the Inspector in charge of the investigation, Flavia manages to make her way around the English countryside with the help of her trusty bicycle Gladys. Searching people's rooms, breaking into the library archives, investigating her father's old boarding school, no place is off-limits to the insatiable curiousity of Flavia. And wouldn't you know it - by the end, murder solved.

Procrastination Reviews #2: The Amaranth Enchantment by Julie Berry

The Amaranth Enchantment by Julie Berry
Hardcover, 9781599903347, $16.99

The second book in the exciting "Procrastination Reviews" series, I picked this one up off the shelf when I was searching for an appropriate book to send to the 14/15 year-old girl in the Odyssey Bookshop's Gift of Reading Program. This is a program where people sign up a child in their life to receive a book that has been hand-picked for them. I do the hand picking. This is one of my favorite, and one of the most challenging, aspects of my job. I have 20 children each month whose reading history I review, personal preferences I review, and then I make an age-appropriate, genre-appropriate book choice for them. Occasionally, I throw something different into the mix; reading too much of the same thing isn't good for anyone. This book can be exhibit A in my case - it's hardly my usual "for myself" reading, but it was entertaining nonetheless. Sort of like a teenage version of a Harlequin romance novel, only without any of the sex or violence.

Lucinda Chapdelaine used to be the only child in a wealthy family that was close to the king. Orphaned by a carriage accident that killed her parents on their way home from a ball, Lucinda has grown up in her uncle's jewelry shop, hated and made to work as a servant by her step-aunt. Lucinda doesn't remember much of her life before the shop, though the grief of her parents' death is still with her. Then, in one day, a beautiful woman visits the shop, an enchanted stone makes its way into Lucinda's care, and Lucinda meets Prince Gregor for the first time since childhood. Soon Lucinda is off on an adventure involving a thief named Peter, an immortal woman named Beryl, the Amaranth Witch, and the truth behind her parents' death.

It turns out the enchanted stone holds Beryl's soul and someone is out to steal it in order to rule the world. Lucinda is drawn to the stone, and so tries to keep it safe, only to have it stolen by Peter, a street thief, who is unaware of its true value. Peter sells it to Prince Gregor, who is looking for the perfect betrothal gift for the Princess he has never met, but who is soon to be his bride. Lucinda makes a deal with Beryl - in return for getting back her soul, Beryl will restore her parents' lands to Lucinda, making her a woman of wealth and property again. On her quest for the stone, Luncinda is caught as a thief, meets her parents' murderer, is almost hanged but manages to escapes, dances several dances with Prince Gregor (is she falling in love?), gets saved more than once by her trusty goat sidekick she calls Dog, and unveils more than one person's true identity.

(See what I mean about the Harlequin romance novel plot-line? Throw some duels and hot sex in there and you've got yourself a whole different type of book contract.) It all works out in the end, and the right people marry their true loves without any awkwardness or bruised feelings. A quick read, the book is plot heavy with fairly little character development. Perfect breezy book for a teen summer read.

Procrastination Reviews #1: The Compound by S.A. Boden

The key to successful procrastination: do something that is halfway legitimate; extra points if you can turn that something halfway legitimate into more work because of its very pseudo-legitimacy. Case in point: in order to procrastinate the three papers I have hanging over my head, I've read two teen novels (for my job, not for school) in the last three days, thus creating the need to blog about them so that my reading will not have been for my pleasure only; the act of blogging my reviews puts these novels firmly in the "for work" category. So, review #1.

The Compound by S.A. Bodeen
Hardcover: 9780312370152, $16.95
Paperback: 9780312578602, $8.99 - due out September 2009

I have my Macmillan rep, Bob, to thank for this book. He dropped off a box of ARCs (advanced reader copies, pre-published books), with this book in it because "the paperback is coming out soon." ARCs I can take or leave, to be honest. I find I don't read nearly as many of them as I should, and then whenever there's a new round of releases, I devour 10 books in 2 weeks to catch up on all the reading I should have done in ARC form 6 weeks earlier. Now, normally, I'm also not one for the inside flap, dust jacket description, whatever the little phrase is that's supposed to give you a taste of the book. I much prefer to read the first chapter. That said, I admit to being sucked in by the mini-blurb of this book. It reads: "Eli and his family have lived in the Compound for six years. The world they know is gone. Eli's father built the Compound to keep them safe. Now, they can't get out. He won't let them." Creepy, right? It's not boogy-man, jump in the dark sort of scary, but just twisted enough that it takes your mind a minute to put two and two together because it just doesn't want to see it.

So what's the basic story? Billionaire dad, mom, older son Eli, daughter Lexie, and daughter Terese all make it into the underground Compound, seconds before the world is blown apart by a nuclear war. Eli's twin brother Eddy and the grandmother (mom's mom) didn't make it. Or so Dad tells them... *cue creepy foreshadowing music here* Flash forward six years: Meat ran out. Fish ran out. Flour is low and going bad. Each family member is holding it together and slowly losing it in their own unique way. Lexie's the perfect Daddy's girl. Terese speaks only in a British accent. Eli refuses to let anyone touch him. Dad's gotten increasingly controlling. Mom's gotten increasingly suspicious. They're all beginning to suspect they're not going to make it the number of years they have left until it will be safe for them to try the world outside. Eli begins questioning what he knows, what he thinks he knows, and what he's been told - some things aren't adding up. When he begins searching the Compound for clues, Eli begins uncovering secrets that shouldn't exist. Like the internet - if there was nuclear war, how is there a wireless signal? Why has his dad written a note to his accountant, if he accountant should now be dead? Where is all the new music coming from that his dad keeps giving him? It seems not everyone on the outside was killed by that nuclear war, if there even was one. If Dad was lying about nuclear war, what else was he lying about? Why did he build the Compound? And why won't he let them out, now that things have started to go really wrong?

Now, I mean this complimentary (I know, not a promising beginning), but one of the things I liked best about this book was once I thought I knew where it was going, it went there. My guess about what the "Supplements" really were? Dead on. My hunch about where Eli's missing twin brother might be? Got it. I liked that. It's satisfying. There was enough twisted about the story in general, that it wasn't one of those, "Hell, I could have written this," sort of feelings. It was more of a relief that the author didn't suddenly throw some weird plot twist in for the hell of it, just to mess with your head. The twists in this story were logical, made sense to the plot, and though things wrap up well at the end, there's a suggestion of unease under the surface that leaves you satisfied nothing's ever quite as perfect as it seems. A solid read, with nothing too kinky that a 13 or 14-year-old couldn't handle.

Shelving

So, you may have noticed I have a small interest in bookshelves. The pictures on the right side of this blog may have been an indication.
Hopefully, you share that fascination as well. I'm well-aware I am not the only person out there with this passion. A blog all about bookshelves is here. I've written a previous post on the actual order of books placed on shelves, a post that continues to be inspired by Nicholas Hornby's assertion that the best way to judge someone's taste is not by their music collection, but by their book collection. My co-worker has written on her blog about how she should not be allowed to shelve books in the store anymore because she keeps finding books she has to read and buy, and I confess to having the same problem. Because my world revolves around all these books I seemingly can't live without, it should come as no surprise that I need a place to put them all. This is where the shelving comes in.
It's amazing how many things can be used as shelves, other than regular shelving, of course. In my room alone, beside a big floor-to-ceiling bookcase, I have an old doll's cradle (stolen from my sister years ago; I can't quite remember if she let me or even knows about it or not), the fold-out seat of an old school desk, the surface of the old school desk, and, of course, the floor, all filled with books. This being the beginning of tag sale, yard sale, garage sale, and flea market season, I'm very much looking forward to finding some new shelving treasures.
It doesn't stop with just my room. Books spill out into the rest of the house. An old ceramic cistern of some kind holds favorite magazines. My living room has a fireplace with built-in bookshelves on either side - my side is filled with books, my roommate's side with DVDs. Oddly enough, there are only two books on the fireplace mantel itself, but there are plenty of other things to fit it.
This is one of the wonderful properties of the shelf - it can be used as a resting place for anything. The fireplace mantel holds a painting by my mother, the two previously mentioned books, a collection of three doorknobs, a set of wooden type, two fuzzy toy chicks (housewarming presents from our upstairs neighbors), a red devil rubber duck, two framed photographs, and a plant in half a plastic bottle. Apparently, I collect things other than books, too. Surprise, surprise.
The real inspiration for this post came from a NY Times article about a former stockbroker-turned-bookshelf designer. I should clarify, it's not that he designs the shelves themselves, so much as he goes out and finds specific books for wealthy people to round out their book collection. This is similar to a job at the Strand I've heard rumored to exist, a job where someone is called upon to create the prominent libraries visible in movies. The former stockbroker is quoted in the article as saying, "The best decoration in the world is a roomful of books," a line he borrowed from someone else, and which I'm reproducing here because I find it so applicable to my own life. In addition to the aforementioned shelves, I have a shelf of old school books and romance novels in the game/guest room, cookbooks in the kitchen, and there is a small collection of bartending books belonging to my roommate on the bar in the dining room.
What is it about books in a room that instantly make it more homey? Almost like a plant, they have the same power to make you believe real people live there. Gilbert Highet, a legendary Humanities professor from Columbia University, once wrote, "These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves." Maybe that's the key, in a room empty of everything but books, you would never be alone; every conversation in the world can be held with a book. Writing that makes me question the need for any sort of companion or polite society, but then again, isn't that half the pleasure of being a reader: sharing that pleasure with someone else? Dissecting the minute details of whatever it was that made you laugh, cry, uncomfortable, hate whatever you were reading? Even as books suck you into their world, they spit you back out again to experience and share the world you've read.
William Ewart Gladstone, a former Prime Minister of Great Britan, wrote, "Books are a delightful society. If you go into a room and find it full of books - even without taking them from the shelves they seem to speak to you, to bid you welcome." I like that sort of welcome, and just realized I've surrounded myself with it. Welcome to my store. Welcome to my home. Skim the titles, grab a book, and welcome to the bookshelf of me.

Book Review: Fire by Kristin Cashore

Fire by Kristin Cashore
Publication date: October 2009
Hardcover: 9780803734616, $17.99

Also counts for Chunkster Challenge, Book 2.

First of all, let me just say that, particularly as first novels, Graceling and Fire (and Kristin Cashore, for writing them) are an inspiration.

I really enjoyed Graceling, and despite the fact that I'm apparently reviewing primarily fantasy books recently, I don't read much fantasy (honest!), so this is saying a lot. The premise - that there are these beings called Gracelings, who have eyes of two different colors, and who are gifted with some sort of enhanced ability - struck me as intriguing. Katsa and Po, the two main characters, were compelling in their development as individuals, as was the plot as it twisted its way through the world of the seven kingdoms.

In Fire, the companion prequel to Graceling, Cashore has created an equally original world of beautiful "monsters": animals, plants, and occasionally people who are irresistably beautiful and extremely dangerous. Fire, the last living human monster, lives in near-isolation, protecting herself from those who want to harm her because of the way her father, also a monster, harmed them. Her father was the advisor to the previous king in the land of the Dells - a land over the mountains from the seven kingdoms in Graceling, a land on the brink of war. He was a cruel and twisted man who could control people's minds and make them suffer in unimaginable ways. While Fire has inherited his abilities, but not his cruelty, sadly there are many people who would rather condemn or kill her first, and ask questions later. When her abilities are needed to help fight to keep the rightful rulers on the thrown, Fire has to face her own inner monsters in order to make the best use of her gift. She is afraid of the way people's minds open to her; all except for the mind of Prince Brigan, the commander of the royal army, and an increasingly fascinating man. By exploring the depths of her abilities, and how far she is willing to go for this kingdom she is beginning to love, Fire carves a place for herself. Much like a phoenix (sorry, the metaphor had to be used), Fire rises from the ashes of her father's universal betrayal to form her own solid reputation of self-discipline, courage, and love.

How is this a prequel to Graceling? The bad guy, Leck, in Graceling is introduced as a boy in Fire. Clearly rotten from the beginning, he plays a deceptively minor role until a pivotal moment of the book. Though it was nice to see some sort of connection between Graceling and Fire, I actually thought that the connection hindering on Leck was the weakest part of the plot. His apperance as a character didn't add much (in my opinion) to my pre-existing knowledge of him, based on Graceling. There was no deeper understanding of him, or explanation as to how he got to be the evil man he was. He was apparently born that way. So, it was a connection, but not a meaningful one, for me. I hope to read more of Fire and Prince Brigan in Cashore's third work, Bitterblue.

Though the stories of both books offer (relatively) resolved endings, Cashore doesn't hold her punches, writing difficult (as in, sad) story developments with sensitivity and grace, making them understandable and necessary, despite being hard to read. Her strong female leads discover their own strengths and weaknesses. They are matched by the men in their lives, but not sheltered, led, or protected by them.

This is a good series to give to that difficult group of 10-13 year-old-readers, the ones who read above their level, but who may not be ready for scenes of graphic sex or violence. There are some references to sex, particularly in Graceling, and of course some violence, but it is never gratuitious, and the sexual references alluded-to, more than shown.

I wish you all had early copies of the book, too, because I can't wait to gush about it with other people who have read it!

Bibliophiles R Us

No, this is not my arm.

But, funny enough, a friend sent me this picture, so there are clearly at least 3 of us out there who think this is a cool idea.

Poetry Post

In the secret life and times of me, it will be discovered that I love poetry.

I don't always understand it, I don't always know how to read it, but for some reason I feel it in a way that is pretty unexpected to me. Is poetry like that for most people? I feel that it's one of those secretive things, though I have no idea why it should be. How many people do you actually know who read poetry? Maybe a lot, but that's the point right, you (or I) don't know for sure because it's never discussed because it's a secret.

April is Poetry Month.
(20% off poetry books at the Odyssey in case you're interested.)
In honor of this, I've picked up some old favorites and discovered some new-to-me, and have decided to step out of the poetry closet, declare to be a poetry-lover, and share some of my favorites with you.

In exploring the history of my love affair with poetry, I've discovered it began much earlier than I expected. In 6th grade, I was attending a public school program for the Gifted and Talented (a piece of irony that never escaped my mother - she often called it a program for the Precocious and Naughty); one of the yearly assignments was to memorize a piece of something and then perform it in front of some select group of people (it may have been the whole school or just the whole grade, I don't remember). At the ripe old age of 11, guess what I chose to recite. No, not Dr. Seuss, as did the girl who won the contest (oh, did I not mention that part? Yes, it was a contest). Instead, I memorized and recited, to the snores of the entire audience, Robert Louis Stevenson's "To Minnie". I still remember some of it:

The red room with the giant bed
Where none but elders laid their head;
The little room where you and I
Did for awhile together lie
And, simple suitor, I your hand
In decent marriage did demand...

Why on earth did I choose this poem?!? I remember several people - teachers, parents - try to talk me out of it, but that was the one I wanted. Reading back over it now, I know for sure I didn't understand half of what I was saying. But I was so obstinate! I gave a thoroughly boring performance, I'm sure, and I even think it might have been captured on video somewhere (probably mildewing in a box of VHS tapes forgotten in someone's basement in southern Indiana). Needless to say, I did not even place among the contest winners, but I'm so glad I stuck with what spoke to me. See, my bullheadedness began way back in the day.

The next poem to fascinate me was by William Blake, and he remains one of my favorites to this day:

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

I give myself extra points for loving this poem even before it was used in a Tomb Raider movie starring Angelina Jolie.

Next came e.e. cummings, who I have to admit, I didn't discover until college:

Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.

And now, only recently have I read Nikki Giovanni. Her book Bicycles:Love Poems was featured at the Odyssey for both February and April, but I didn't read it until last week (or maybe the week before?). I am in love all over again (in love with love, not with anyone in particular), and I blame this book for my recent mood swings, odd dreams, and minor bouts of love-lorn depression. Dear Nikki Giovanni, I was doing just fine until you came along to stir up all those old feelings again! Must mean you're doing something right, dammit.

If Only

If I had never been in your arms
Never danced that dance
Never inhaled your slightly sweaty odor

Maybe I could sleep at night

If I had never held your hand
Never been so close
To the most kissable lips in the universe
Never wanted ever so much
To rest my tongue in your dimple

Maybe I could sleep at night

If I wasn't so curious
About whether or not you snore
And when you sleep do you cuddle your pillow
What you say when you wake up
And if I tickle you
Will you heartedly laugh

If this enchantment
This bewilderment
This longing
Could cease

If this question I ache to ask
could be answered

If only I could stop dreaming
of you

Maybe I could sleep
at night.

The Necessity of a Book-Aunt

"The Necessity of a Book-Aunt" by R.E. Finklestein.
(NOT my real last name.)

Doesn't that sound like a great book title?

But what on earth is a book-aunt, you might be asking.

Book-Aunt, n.

- person, either biologically or not biologically related to a person younger than themselves, to whom the first person supplies reading materials that may or may not be sanctioned by the parents or guardians of the second, younger person, with the intent to expand the mind of, educate, possibly corrupt, or in some other way influence the second person.

- Common qualities of the book-aunt:
- young, or young-at-heart - hip in some way (also know as cool, rad, possibly even hot)
- is in touch with reading material that would be of interest to the younger person, based on their age, gender, sexuality, hobbies, and other personal interests
- is not afraid to defy the wishes of the parents/guardians if the book-aunt believes she is in the right in providing a specific type or example of reading material

- Related terms: book-uncle, book-non-gender-specified-friend

- For book recommendations in your role as a book-aunt, this book-aunt blog may help.

I, for one, am book-aunt to the delectable L. Isn't he the most adorable child? I realize, being his book-aunt, I'm a wee bit biased, but still! I love to spoil him rotten on the rare occasions I see him in person, and generally make myself a nuisance with my book suggestions to his equally wonderful parents.

If you are not currently acting as a book-aunt, -uncle, -non-gender-specified-person, to a child or someone younger than you, I highly recommend running out and finding yourself someone. The rewards are infinite.