Almost Fandom

Back from vacation, back from teaching at a workshop, back to my dropped projects and cozy house...

We have been enjoying what feels like our first weeks of summer. Consistent, warm weather (warm for here: low 70s); relaxed days; denial about the amount of work that has to happen before my students walk through the door after Labor Day.

Since the days themselves feel like a lovely mosaic or collage, in which I flit from thing to thing, mostly free of drive or focus, I thought a blog post in that format--a winding path through my summer brain, if you will--would be appropriate.

1. War and Peace. My book club decided to tackle this monolith over the summer. We are all teachers, and after reading Anna Karenina last summer, we thought another Tolstoy was just the thing. I'm struggling. I've read tons of 19th century lit as well as lots of historical fiction (which is what Tolstoy was writing: the book was published in 1869 but set in 1805-1812) so that's not the issue...it's just that I don't have enough historical "hooks" to read the book without constantly consulting the footnotes and Wikipedia and the list of characters. When I get in flow, like during our week on Camano Island, I really enjoy it...but it's a daunting task. It wouldn't have been easier during the school year, though, so I'm continuing on. I won't say slogging, because it's not a slog, its just like rolling a boulder up a hill when you're constantly being seduced off the path by flowers and bunnies and gins and tonic. But you really need to get this boulder up the hill!

2. Wil Wheaton. I am just enough of a "Star Trek: The Next Generation" fan to be inordinately excited that I discovered Wil's blog and his podcasts...and I'm just enough of an oblivious semi-fan that I didn't hear about them until TWO YEARS after he first put them out. Just finished listening to "Memories of the Futurecast," where he reads excerpts from his book Memories of the Future, which covers his memories and pretty funny synopses of the first 14 episodes of the series...the series which is now, conveniently, is on Netflix Streaming. The kids and I watched a bit of episode one today while we were folding laundry. My son said, astutely, "This looks like 'Galaxy Quest.'" Sigh. The perils of watching a parody before one has seen the source material.
(Note 1: Wil Wheaton was the one and only boy I ever cut out of "Tiger Beat" and put up on my wall. What that says about me, I don't know.) (I do know; it says I'm a mega-nerd and completely proud of it.)
(Note 2: Wil has a beautiful, touching post on his blog about the 25th anniversary of the film "Stand By Me." If you saw this movie in the '80's and loved it, read this post.)

3. Couch-to-5K. I have been a runner on and off since I was in college. It is absolutely the best way for me to enjoy exercise and get in shape...but it's also a tough habit for me to sustain and I tend to binge and crash. After a year with some tough health stuff, it became very apparent to me that being a super-slug and feeling sorry for myself was not the way to regain fitness. I'm on week 5 of this Couch-to-5K program right now, and am feeling great! Got new Nike Free running shoes, am not having any trouble with my joints or shinsplints, and signed up for a local 5K for the end of September. Given my personal set of issues, I'm not sure if I'll ever tackle more than the 5K length (doesn't it seem like everyone is doing half-marathons now?) but we'll see...

4. Ysolda Teague and Carol Feller. Knitters: run, don't walk to get a copy of Little Red in the City by Ysolda Teague. I love it so much that I have already spilled coffee AND wine on it. I also already knit the sweater Skelf in one crazy gulp back in June/July and it may be my most favorite thing I've knitted EVER.
If Ysolda is like a knitting rock star, Carol Feller is like the cool indie band that's just hitting the circuit. I ordered her book Contemporary Irish Knits pretty much sight unseen (only a few patterns are up on Ravelry now, but they all look like winners) and as soon as I hit "confirm order" on the Amazon cart, I started to notice her name everywhere--Interweave Knits, Knitty, Twist Collective--I just didn't notice before that a bunch of patterns I love were all designed by the same person.

5. The Temeraire books by Naomi Novik. I've been having trouble paying attention to War and Peace in part because of Ms. Novik's fascinating series. Again, I'm late to the party, it already being six books--but my husband and I are really enjoying the heck out of what feels like a combination of Jane Austen, the non-cheesy parts of Anne McCaffrey, and Patrick O'Brien.

All right, people: my actual to-do list ain't getting any shorter, and then I can go back to my honeybee-like existence

My daughter and I have been into nursery rhymes lately. Her fledgling reading skills are blossoming (excuse the mixed metaphor) with texts that rhyme and have predictable patterns and rhythms.

So as we were reading Mother Goose the other night, I stumbled over this rhyme, one I'd heard as a child but never really thought about before.

Crosspatch,
Draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin,
Take a cup,
And drink it up,
And call the neighbors in.

This isn't a fun rhyme to teach counting or a silly rhyme to make children laugh--this is emotional instruction! Coping skills passed down as a poem!

If you are feeling grouchy or overwhelmed,
Take some time for yourself,
Be comfortable and do something with your hands,
Have a cup of tea (or something stronger?!)
Then, open the door to company.

Mother Goose's version is, of course, more catchy.

Most knitters will agree that knitting can get them into a flow state, the same one experienced by athletes, or anyone engaged in something absorbing and enjoyable. And repetitive activities are proven to lower blood pressure and reduce stress. (Dr Oz says to choose doing the dishes over watching TV to wind down!)

I love the idea of women generations ago recognizing that solitude + spinning + tea = Serenity Now!

OK, fellow Crosspatches, do you find that your knitting or other handwork helps you to recharge?

iPad lust

I have a serious case of iPad lust...

And this post Is. Not. Helping.

Live Oak Reminiscence

There wasn't very much that was lovely about that apartment complex. It was old-ish and musty, surrounded by newer, jazzier gated complexes, with bad parking and scary laundry rooms and a pool continually closed by maintenance issues.

We chose it because it was the least expensive option while we lived on one income in this hot, hot, place so far from home. This place of cockroaches and strange poky grass and hibiscus and great food and bad pollution and oil and music and sprawl.

But the one thing I loved there were the live oaks.

I don't know what makes a live oak different from just a regular oak, but they are beautiful. Soaring, knobbly branches; tiny, lovely acorns; scratchy, weathered bark. They decorated our neighborhood and our courtyard, and during the three months I both lived and worked in that dingy little apartment because my boring unfulfilling office job ended abruptly, I would open the windows and listen to the breeze (when there was a breeze) blow through their lovely, gnarled branches, and dream of the Northwest.

No tree here--maybe because we have so many, an embarrassment of riches--makes me quite as happy.

So, when I saw Rosemary Hill's pattern for the "Live Oak Shawlette" in the latest issue of Knitscene, it just spoke to me.

This half-circle shawl flew on and then off my needles in a crazy-fast way--just a couple of days (and couple of long Tour de France stages) from cast-on to bind off.

It's pictured here about two-thirds bound off, as I caught the waning gray July-in-the-PNW light. Tonight it's going to take a bath and then get blocked to its more lovely, leafy, tweedy glory. I'm not even sure what its fate will be...like the adventure that took us so far from home and taught us so much in the land of live oaks, I'll let the universe guide me.

Do you like bright colors? Many many bright colors, in different patterns, the more the merrier? If so, you and Miss E would get along. She is a fan of all things bright, and at age nearly-five she can pull it off with aplomb.

I'm not one of those moms that dictates clothing choices for the kids. We have had to add limits on, say, shorts in winter (it has to be at least 50...remember, that's warm in the Pacific Northwest), and for some occasions (weddings, parties, picture day) we have put our parental feet down and, shall we say, steered the fashion ship a bit.

But mostly, for Miss E, it's bright colors and patterns and lots of layers. (That is when she's not running around with her big brother with bare feet and no shirt.)

This summer, I was searching for a project that would use up the skein of KnitPicks Chroma Fingering that I bought with her in mind. (The colorway is called Pegasus--how perfect is that for a four-year-old girl?) I had just bought Sock Yarn One-Skein Wonders and had been poring over it for a while. I saw this sweater pattern, and though it was only sized for a 6- or 12-month baby, I thought I could adapt it. I really thought it would look great in the Chroma because of the combination of the striped yoke and chevron-lace body.

I cast on more stitches than the pattern called for, and used a bigger needle, too. (Details are on my Ravelry project page if you are so inclined.) It knit up quickly and easily, and aside from a knot in the yarn and then a reversal of the color pattern (thank goodness I noticed that!) I really enjoyed working with the Chroma.

And we found the perfect buttons!

See?

Book Review: The Lost Gate by Orson Scott Card

I do a lot of reading--so I've decided, inspired by my friend Laura, again, to begin posting, on occasion, reviews of what I read. I'll do fiction, knitting books, other publications--whatever's on my bedside table. Let me know what you think!

Review: The Lost Gate by Orson Scott Card (2010)

384 pages. (This review is of the hardback book club edition.)

Nutshell: 45% American Gods + 45% Percy Jackson series + 10% Twilight

AKA: Ancient gods are the new vampires.

Background:

Orson Scott Card is the author of arguably the most popular YA novel for boys of all time: Ender's Game. This is not to say that Ender's Game isn't a great book for both genders, but its male protagonist, futuristic-videogame-combat setting and slight seasoning of ethical dilemma seems to especially resonate with males of a certain age.

In The Lost Gate, Card reaches, stretches, and fails to capture the EG magic, creating a novel with an interesting, if unoriginal, premise--that the "Old Gods" of mythology still exist in our world (paging Mr. Card: have you heard of Neil Gaiman or Rick Riordan?)--and a protagonist, Danny North, who swings wildly from believable teen to laughably this-is-how-adults-think-teenagers-talk-think-and-feel. There's a secondary/companion story that hews closer to European-influenced fantasy: medieval-ish setting, castles, intrigue, secret identities.

I have my own personal beefs with (and love of) Card's books, having read the Ender series and (almost all of) the Alvin Maker series.

Let's start with the admiration: Card unabashedly loves America: American folk beliefs, accents, dialects, and geography. He's able to describe magical abilities on a near-molecular level, helping the reader understand and almost almost believe that the abilities could be real. He knows how to pace an action scene. He writes dialogue, particularly dialogue in dialect, without sounding clunky or too stereotypical, and has a naturalistic way of sliding in the vocabulary of the world of the book, making it seem acquired rather than alien.

That said, Card's style also often leaves me cold. He forces his personal belief system into his novels, and as soon as he does, they lose their magic and become clunky allegory. (That's why I stopped reading the Alvin Maker series.) He doesn't write female characters well; they come in three flavors: subservient/flavorless, scheming, and Auntie Mame.

So, then: The Lost Gate.

Synopsis: Danny North, pre-teen and seemingly-powerless member of a powerful family living on a hidden compound in western Virginia, discovers he's powerful, after all, and explores the dangers and joys of his newfound abilities. Meanwhile, on another world, a nameless, memory-less, ALSO seemingly-powerless character known as Wad is involved in his own mysterious journey of self-knowledge.

Sample:

He tried to understand what it meant to “serve” stone or water, wind or the electricity of lightning in the air. But the stones bruised his fingers and moved for him only if he threw them; the wind only blew his hair into a tangled mop, and storms and ponds left him wet, cold, and powerless. Far from being precocious, with magic he was slow. Worse than slow. He was inert, making no visible progress at all.

Yet, except for the loneliness, he didn’t hate his life. His long rovings in the woods were a pleasure to him. Since neither tree nor animal was drawn to him, he simply ran, becoming swift and tireless, mile after mile. (15)

Woot:

Nice descriptions of magical abilities, and creation of a believable system of magic. Card is able to construct the system without the “and now you’re getting the anthropological background of how magic works in this reality” section so prevalent in fantasy novels, usually bringing the narrative to a screeching halt. The tone shifted believably between Wad’s and Danny’s worlds.

Meh:

Some meaningless episodic stuff happened in the middle that then got dropped in favor of the overall arc. Danny discovers a murdered family! (What?) Danny wants to go to public high school! (In a cafeteria scene that reminded me so much of Twilight that I wanted to scream, he inexplicably heals a bunch of people and, basically, no one bats an eye.)

Additionally, the whole “gods still walk among us” trope seems a mite played out, especially when (as I mentioned above) Gaiman did it so well for adult readers, and Riordan continues to for middle readers. Perhaps Card intends this series (it’s clearly not done yet) to fit in the middle ground for high school readers? The scatological humor and sexual situations point this direction... (Which brings me to:)

Boo:

One boo to stereotypical adult characters. Who here has ACTUALLY had a sadistic gym teacher? A “climb that rope, kid, because I don’t like you” gym teacher? I didn’t think so.

Two boos to gratuitous and creepy sexual content. One adult female character could have just as easily been portrayed as the crazy she was without having her make inappropriate overtures to Danny.

Three big boos to semi-sadistic violence without plot or character purpose. (Which is, I guess, what gods do. But still!)

Audience?

Those who liked but have grown out of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. (I’d recommend The Lost Hero, also by Rick Riordan, over this one, though.)

Sequel-worthy?

There were enough good things in The Lost Gate to make me open to reading a sequel, although the female characters make me feel all squirmy inside. But I’ll check any subsequent books out from the library; not buy-worthy.

Storm Warnings

I first read this poem in high school, taking a practice test for my AP Literature class. I think its unexpectedness paired with my need to ANALYZE-THIS-IN-40-MINUTES-GO! indelibly printed it on my mind.

In college, I kept it framed on my wall (that, and the lyrics to "Mystery" by Indigo Girls...yes, yes, melodramatic, I know)...it still fits my optimistic-yet-fatalistic-with-a-dash-of-melancholy inner self.

I later read more Rich poetry (and, yes, it is rich/Rich on many levels) and always find her profound and a bit inscrutable. Just the way poetry should be.

Storm Warnings

by Adrienne Rich

The glass has been falling all the afternoon,
And knowing better than the instrument
What winds are walking overhead, what zone
Of grey unrest is moving across the land,
I leave the book upon a pillowed chair
And walk from window to closed window, watching
Boughs strain against the sky

And think again, as often when the air
Moves inward toward a silent core of waiting,
How with a single purpose time has traveled
By secret currents of the undiscerned
Into this polar realm. Weather abroad
And weather in the heart alike come on
Regardless of prediction.

Between foreseeing and averting change
Lies all the mastery of elements
Which clocks and weatherglasses cannot alter.
Time in the hand is not control of time,
Nor shattered fragments of an instrument
A proof against the wind; the wind will rise,
We can only close the shutters.

I draw the curtains as the sky goes black
And set a match to candles sheathed in glass
Against the keyhole draught, the insistent whine
Of weather through the unsealed aperture.
This is our sole defense against the season;
These are the things we have learned to do
Who live in troubled regions.

Thanks to Laura of What She Read for this blog hop!