Showing posts from October, 2014

Soylent Blissdom: It's People! Peeeeeople!

Yes, it's been a couple of weeks since Blissdom. Yes, I've taken my sweet time assembling this post. Yes, I'm a little conflicted about what to write. I love the enthusiastic, fired-wired-inspired posts from people who have discovered their Inner Writer, or Inner Entrepreneur, or Inner Brand Spokesperson. I love hearing about people who had their creative potential unlocked by a panel or a microsession. I love Lesley , who is now practically the Blissdom Poster Child, or should be, and I love seeing what Blissdom started for her. Lesley, rocking the Jack Skellington look But I'm not young, or fired-up, or especially unlocked. I've looked into my Neighbourhood of Inners, and let me tell you, it's full of assholes. And I'd like to say that Blissdom stuffed a gag in the gob of my Inner Name-Caller, or obliterated my Inner Confidence-Sucker, or shouted down my Inner You-Can't-Do-Anything Reaffirmer. But I'd be lying. I still haven't

Surly *cough wheeze* Thursday

Things that are making me surly this week: 1) This goddamned never-ending plague of never-endingness. I'm grateful that I got through Matt's school reunion and the wedding and Blissdom before I got sick, but I would VERY MUCH like to be DONE BEING SICK NOW, please. I just talked to my recovering-from-abdominal-surgery-sister who I didn't visit after Blissdom because I felt the plague coming on and didn't want to introduce it into her open wound, and I had to hang up because I eventually couldn't get any words out in between the hacking. My voice sounds like I've been swallowing sandpaper due to sucking on my inhaler every half hour (it sounds something like this ). And the snot, god, the snot - is there an actual god of snot? Oh look, here's a Japanese storm god born from the snot of his creator's dripping nostril. Maybe that's why it's been rainy and dark all damned week.  2) It's been rainy and dark all damned week. I was at physio

Mondays on the Margins: Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins (Newbery Medal Series)

I flat-out adored this book - I wanted to kiss its whole face. It's also the first one I've read where I really think the committee totally shit the bed on the whole "children are the audience" part of the criteria. As one Goodreads reviewer aptly put it, "the story is subtle as heck". It is so subtle - it is woven together out of hints and echoes and allusions. There were things I didn't catch until my second reading, and I am generally no slouch in the catching-things department (okay, I very often am a slouch in the catching-things department, but things like irony, and when something is a flashback in a tv show, which a lot of people have issues with, they really shouldn't be allowed to show flashbacks without the "5 years ago" tag, it's too confusing). The criss cross reference is to the paths of the many pre-adolescent characters converging, diverging, glancing off of each other and sometimes failing entirely to meet. It is al

Some Witty Banter With Your Curry?

So I should totally be throwing up a new Newbery Medal Post, or blogging about Blissdom, but my cold sort of suspended itself for the week-end and then came rushing back full force when I got home (not complaining, really it was the best I could hope for) and I've read more Newbery books but I don't feel equipped to post much more than "um, good" or "meh", or "my physiotherapist thinks it's taken me a month to read The Cricket in Times Square because I only read it at Physio because it's light enough to hold in one hand - I think she suspects that I'm simple". And tonight we had one of those great family dinners that made me remember why I force us to have family dinners so I'm going to take the easy way out. Matt: "I registered you for Take Your Kid to Work Day on November 5th" Angus: "Why did you have to register me?" Photo by Didriks Matt: "I don't know. Something about safety concerns."