NaBloPoMo Successes all around

Hooray to all of us who stuck to the NaBloPoMo plan and actually posted something every day for the last month. I have absolutely loved reading what everyone has written, watching the videos some have posted, checking out Mike's pics, listening to some of Nate's music recommendations, and trying to figure out what the hell drunken goats are doing in Colorado.

I will try to continue writing a lot, though I'm sure it won't really be every day for the rest of time. I hope everyone else will continue in the same spirit!

The 10 Best Books of 2007 (so says the NYT)

The New York Times recently put out their list of this year's best books. I've read a whopping none of them. How'd the rest of you do?

Fiction

MAN GONE DOWN, by Michael Thomas.
Black Cat/Grove/Atlantic, paper, $14.

OUT STEALING HORSES, by Per Petterson. Translated by Anne Born.
Graywolf Press, $22.

THE SAVAGE DETECTIVES, by Roberto Bolaño. Translated by Natasha Wimmer.
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $27.

THEN WE CAME TO THE END, by Joshua Ferris.
Little, Brown & Company, $23.99.

TREE OF SMOKE, by Denis Johnson.
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $27.

Nonfiction

IMPERIAL LIFE IN THE EMERALD CITY: Inside Iraq's Green Zone, by Rajiv Chandrasekaran.
Alfred A. Knopf, $25.95; Vintage, paper, $14.95.

LITTLE HEATHENS: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression, by Mildred Armstrong Kalish.
Bantam Books, $22.

THE NINE: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court, by Jeffrey Toobin.
Doubleday, $27.95.

THE ORDEAL OF ELIZABETH MARSH: A Woman in World History, by Linda Colley.
Pantheon Books, $27.50.

THE REST IS NOISE: Listening to the Twentieth Century, by Alex Ross.
Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $30

Just when I thought I was done

I am feeling settled and comfortable in my new apartment just in time to pack up and move offices. We're moving only a few blocks south, but I've spent the afternoon in the same cardboard-smelling, packing tape-shrieking mess I just left behind.

This move is far less traumatic on a personal level, but I am somewhat miffed about losing my good office and being stuck in a craptacular cube again. There's no doubting, even for a moment, that this job is about a hundred thousand times better than any job I ever had at McGraw-Hell. Nonetheless, going back to a cube feels a bit like a demotion. Many of us are in the same boat, so there's no point whining about it, and I'm putting on a very Mary Sunshine face to my boss. But I'm not happy.

I mean seriously, how will I blog and Gmail Chat all day now that people can see what I'm doing?

Some 2007 Favs

In honor of the impending end of the year, I'm hopping on the list-making bandwagon to talk about some of my favorite things from this year. Today: movies (books and who knows what else to follow). These aren't necessarily movies that have been released in the last twelve months, but they are all movies I watched in for the first time in 2007.

My Top Movies of 2007

Hairspray

I loved the spirit of Hairspray: though it's message of acceptance is overly simplified, it's still a good one. The performances, especially by some of the lesser known cast members such as Nikki Blonsky and Elijah Kelley, were wonderful, as was the music. They were even smart enough to cut one of my least favorite songs from the stage version!


Heavenly Creatures

This movie is amazing! After hearing good things about it for years, I finally pushed it to the top of my Netflix queue. Peter Jackson, of Lord of the Rings fame, directed a young Kate Winslet and Melanie Lynskey in this true tale about two wonderfully and horrifically imaginative teens. With an emotional connection that bordered on obsession, the two friends turned violent when faced with potential separation from each other. Beautiful fantasy sequences, strong performances, and two extraordinarily compelling characters makes this a definite must-see.

Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills
and
Paradise Lost 2: Revelations

It's hard to even know where to start when talking about these two documentaries. Three teenagers in West Memphis, Arkansas were railroaded by the courts and convicted of murdering three young neighborhood boys.

Their convictions were based mostly on one of the teen's coerced confession and "satanic panic." The three were unpopular, interested in Wicca, and wore a lot of black. Their outsider status provided opportunity to those who wanted to condemn them.

All three remain in prison where they've been since June of 1993. Since then, countless people from some of us to celebrities like Margaret Cho and Natalie Maines have taken up their cause. Still, there is no end in sight. You can visit Free the West Memphis Three to learn more.

Everyone should see these movies, but they are horrifying.

Difficult Reentry

So here I am, back at work. It's always hard to come back and get focused after a long weekend, and this one is no exception. I'm feeling especially tired, and I can't tell if it's just the readjustment to my work schedule or connected to the NyQuil I took last night to battle some sinus congestion. Either way, I'd rather be in bed. Also, it was raining this morning, so I didn't take the circuitous route to the office I use when I want to stop for coffee. Boo.

Enchanted by Enchanted

At Shannon's suggestion, the family went to the movies to see Enchanted on Friday night. It was a great suggestion on her part, because the movie was utterly enjoyable. It's perfect for both kids and adults who are in a whimsical mood, and makes great use of Amy Adams, James Marsden, and its New York City location. Adams is perfect as Giselle, a would-be princess thrust into NYC by, of course, some one's wicked stepmother. Wide eyed and innocent, she plays Giselle with the right amount of earnestness and excitement. Marsden, as the Prince who vows to rescue and marry her, shows a great comic timing and is funnier than his previous roles have allowed him to be. The cast is rounded out by Patrick Dempsey, Susan Sarandon, Idina Menzel, and Timothy Spall (Harry Potter's Wormatail).

As a spoof of and homage to classic Disney movies, Enchanted includes a few perfect musical numbers led by Adams (who did her own singing) and Dempsey's cynical New Yorker plays her foil well. Sarandon was the one downer for me, through no fault of her own. I simply found that her plot-important character, who provided the motivation and circumstances for absolutely everything that happens in the movie, wasn't what I wanted to see. I was looking for more singing, dancing, cooing at small animals, and sugary-sweet romance.

That said, I still had a wonderful time, and Enchanted offered the perfect happy ending to our holiday weekend.

Growin' Up

Part of the fun of being at Mom's for Thanksgiving was that I got to catch up with Caryn and Larry as well as family. They came over for some left over pie on Friday, and I got to see Joey again for the first time in two months. In that time, she's literally doubled in size! Here she is, twice as big and cuter than ever.

It's Pie-Tastic!

Some combination of moving into a new place with a slightly (though only slightly) more user-friendly kitchen and reading so many food-themed books lately has made me believe that I not only want to bake more but actually can. To this end, I offered to make the pumpkin pie for yesterday's feast. I'm thrilled to say that it actually came out well. It was my first solo pie baking attempt, and I really didn't want to be the one who caused this Thanksgiving to be pumpkin-less.

Giving Thanks

Not original, I know, but today's post is all about what I'm thankful for. Instead of saying friends, family, and health (which is all, of course, true), I'm saying today that I'm thankful for creation. Don't worry, I'm not going all Intelligent Design on you guys. Really, I'm thankful for feeling more creative for the last few months. There was a time when I was constantly working on a writing project, making pottery, learning what a crimping bead was so I could make my own jewelry, or doing something else fun and creative. I've been out of that mode for a while now, and without even realizing it, I was completely missing it.

Thanks to the encouragement of some friends and National Novel Writing Month, I've been doing far and away more writing in the last two months than I've done in the last two years. And even though NaNoWriMo has been a dismal failure in terms of word count (I'm thousands and thousands of words behind where I should be), I still consider it a personal success.

Now I need to collapse into a food coma.

Grub

I've been reading like mad lately and also recently finished Grub by Elise Blackwell. Since this one came through Laura and Enfuse Magazine, you'll have to visit Enfuse for the full review. It's a good book, though, and especially interesting for those of us who try to be writers and/or have suffered through publishing jobs.

The Abstinence Teacher

Tom Perrotta, author of novels such as Election and Little Children (to name a few) recently published The Abstinence Teacher, the tale of Ruth Ramsey, a suburban mom and high school sex ed teacher, and her personal encounters with the religious right. As is happening in so much of the country, an evangelical church has sprouted up in her community; church members consider it part of their mission to correct what they see as the moral wrongs happening around them.

When Ruth is asked in class one day whether oral sex is like kissing a toilet she responds, in addition to providing some explanatory health and hygiene information, that “some people like it,” and soon finds herself in a public maelstrom about what is appropriate sex education curriculum for high schoolers.

Perrotta provides all of this as back story, focusing the majority of his book on Ruth’s second encounter with the Tabernacle’s faithful. Her younger daughter is a star on her soccer team, but when the team’s coach, Tim, leads the girls in a post-game prayer, Ruth confronts him. Ruth is already exhausted from being the public face fighting against the overly zealous, and Tim is a recovering addict clinging to his newfound religion to keep him sober.

As with all of Perrotta’s books, The Abstinence Teacher is well written and remarkably readable. But, like his others, he doesn’t push beyond the surface of the story enough to deeply affect the reader. His topic is clearly timely, but he takes the easy way out by making Tim doubt his own convictions a little too much. It’s clear where Perrotta stands on the issue of religious extremism, and he never gives us a three-dimensional character who persuasively advocates for embracing the presence of Christianity in all parts of life. While my convictions happen to fall nicely in step with Perrotta’s and those of his leading lady, the book would have been more powerful if Perrotta had provided a more compelling counterbalance.

Twelve Words

In the midst of obsessing about how many words I'm up to on my regular old novel writing, it was a nice change of pace to be as absolutely concise as possible. Here's my twelve word novel. If I'm lucky and the Powers That Be at On the Media love it, they might read it on the air next weekend.


This place and this man weren't what she'd expected. She missed home.

12-Word Novel

I was listening to On the Media this morning on NPR when the two hosts sent a shout out to all of us participating in NaNoWriMo. It was pretty exciting to hear, especially since it's taking more and more to motivate as I fall further and further behind. They put out a very interesting challenge to the would-be writers listening: rather than writing a long novel, write a very, very short one--12 words or fewer. I haven't written my 12-worder yet, but I'll post it tomorrow if I come up with something good. In the meantime, here are a couple of my favorite entries so far.


In the army, George discovered he was a coward. He told nobody.
--Leon Freilich

The children wept as mother shuddered. Father was the whiskey man again.
--James Lavin

Sit. This will take a while. You see, your mother is dead.
--Todd V.

Obituary; first five words free? She thought. "Charles dead. Yacht for Sale."
--Angela Stucker

Tim & Heidi

I'm a little late in seeing the premier of Project Runway Season 4 because I don't have cable and have to work all sorts of nefarious schemes to see it. But, this morning, I caught up with the rest of the PR fans and watched the first episode. I'm so glad this show is back! I missed Tim (though not enough to watch his terrible solo show) and Heidi, as well as Michael Kors and Nina Garcia. The season looks loaded with drama, and I can't wait for everyone's full personalities to surface.

Carry on!

Make me a better person by giving away your hard earned money

My good friend Kristinn is a better person than I am. Thanksgiving will find me stuffing myself full of turkey, stuffing (well named in so many ways), and mashed potatoes with gravy. Once I do all that, I'll likely lay on the couch moaning about how much I ate and how many ways my stomach hurts. That will last exactly as long as it takes someone to suggest dessert. I'll then waffle between whether I want pumpkin pie or apple, and before the night is out I'll have a slice of each.

Kristinn, on the other hand, will be running a charity race. The Thanksgiving Day Trot for Hunger helps raise awareness about hunger and homelessness and raises money to provide meals and medical care for the poor and homeless in her community.

Since we all know I'm too lazy to run a race, even for charity, I'm doing my part by trying to guilt trip all of you into donating to Kristinn's race. See, if some of you give her money, I'll have seriously helped the cause without ever getting off the couch. It'll be a beautiful thing.

To make this dream come true, visit Kristinn's So Others May Eat website.

Ways to waste time at work

Except for the part where I have to wrack my brain to come up with interesting things to write about each day, I'm totally and completely loving NaBloPoMo. It tickles me more than you know to come in to work each morning certain that I'll have a few fun things to read from my friends. I should space out my blog reading, visiting one here and one there, but I'm like a starving kid in a candy story, gobbling everything down at once. Sadly, that leaves me with another seven and a half hours or so to get through with nary a blog post to read. So, how do I survive the boring patches of my days? Here are two of my favorites:

Go Fug Yourself: This site, written by two very funny women, skewers celebrities for the god awful things they wear. The mockery, complete with countless pop culture references and adoration for George Clooney (aka Intern George) is a must read.

Overheard in New York: I cannot tell you how easy it is to get sucked into this site. As the title suggests, the entire website is composed of little snippets of conversation overheard on the streets of New York. Because each conversation is bite sized, it's incredibly easy to keep thinking, I'll just read one more, and the next thing you know, you've been ignoring your work for an hour. It's addictive!

13,142

That's how many words I have written for National Novel Writing Month. And since I haven't done anything exciting in the last 24 hours to write about instead, I'm going to talk about writing a book in a month.

First of all, it's hard! I'm trying to get up early and write before work. Despite how very, very difficult it is for me to drag my lazy ass out of bed in the morning, I find that if I can manage it, I'm more productive then than I am in the evenings. And since I can't always be guaranteed a slow day at work in which to novel, forcing myself to become an early riser seems like my best chance for success.

I'm also really intrigued by how organic this process is. National Novel Writing Month focuses exclusively on quantity and output. There is no quality control and the NaNoWriMo powers-that-be actively encourage writers not to edit at this point. As they say, that's what December is for. Because I'm striving for a lot of mediocre writing instead of a smaller amount of polished, thoughtful prose, my novel is progressing in unexpected ways. I'm following tangents and writing disembodied scenes without any connective tissue. I'm surprised at which parts are coming very naturally and which characters refuse to materialize, regardless of how central they're supposed to be. My protagonist is a mere specter, while secondary characters' back stories are flowing right out of me.

And finally, I'm grateful for the friends going through this with me. Sharing all my bad writing on a regular basis--and seeing what others are coming up with, too--creates a feeling of accountability and much-needed motivation for me. It would be easy to give up if I were doing this in isolation (as most writers work all the time), and I'm glad to have the moral support of my fellow NaNoWriMo-ers.

Documentary Recommendation

Last night I watched the Werner Herzog documentary, Little Dieter Needs to Fly. Herzog (the filmmaker behind the also amazing Grizzly Man) introduces Dieter Dengler, a German-born American who wanted nothing more as a boy than to be a pilot. This dream ultimately leads him to the Air Force, then the Navy, and ultimately to a Vietnamese prison camp after his plane is shot down during the Vietnam War.

Dengler's story is one of courage, endurance, and perseverance. While the events alone are worthy of documentation, it's really Dieter himself who makes the movie. His matter-of-factness and humanity are almost beyond belief.

Herzog recently revisited this story, retelling it in Rescue Dawn, staring Christian Bale as Dieter. I haven't seen this fictionalized account yet, and I can't decide if I want to. I recall both Bale and his costar Steve Zahn garnering raves, but right now I need to live with just the documentary for a while.

Uh, oh.

So here we are, not even one half of the way through the month of November, and I officially have nothing to blog about today. I'm writing anyway, for the sake of NaBloPoMo success, but I've got nothing to say. Let's see what I can come up with anyway...

My kitchen is very, very yellow, but I might be coming around on it. I may just be talking myself into liking it because I'm lazy. Either way, I'm not repainting it right now.

Today is Rena's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RENA!), and I think we should all eat some cake in her honor.

Because I'm a total book-buying addict, I unnecessarily bought two more used books over the weekend at that thrift store on 96th: The Eyre Affair by Jaspar Fforde (which my older sister has highly recommended) and Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo. Total price: $2.95.

And, for a short time today, it looked like newsman Sam Donaldson liked to get freaky with some high-end hos. But in a much, much less interesting update, apparently he doesn't.

The Namesake

I know I'm not the first person, and I'm sure I won't be the last, to give Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake a glowing review. But having just finished this book, I feel compelled to put another recommendation out there.

Lahiri's writing is beautiful, and she's able to fully embody characters in short space. Even secondary characters, and somewhat unsympathetic ones at that, are drawn in three dimensions. Given the book's vast scope, Lahiri's ability to deliver the key details needed to make far flung situations come alive in only a few paragraphs is vital.

The Namesake spans both the globe and generations, telling the story of a Bengali man and woman, betrothed and married at the arrangement of their parents, and their son who grows up in America and as an American. Lahiri skillfully draws parallels of various distances: the geographical distance Ashoke and Ashima put between them and their homeland, the emotional distances between parents and children and husbands and wives, and the distance between duty and dreams. The wonder of The Namesake is that these all feel universal, despite being so grounded in a single ethnic group's shared experiences.

Lazy Saturday

I've spent the day mostly at home, trying to do a few things here and there that will make the new apartment even more like a home. I spent way too much money at the hardware store downstairs buying paint and all the accompanying painting tools and set about painting my kitchen yellow. I thought it would add a much needed pop of color to the place as well as visually separating the kitchen and living room which are open to each other. Unfortunately, the yellow I bought looks much brighter in my apartment and on my walls than it did on the chip at the store. I'm hoping that as I adjust to it I'll start to feel better, but for now it's a bit much.

Yum

Laura, Tina, and any other New York deserters who might be reading this, get ready to be jealous! Tonight is Rena's official birthday celebration at the most delicious of delicious Italian restaurants. You'll think I'm exaggerating only if you haven't been to Angel's and had their gorgonzola bread. I've been salivating at the thought of this appetizer since Rena decided to go there for her birthday. Now that the day is finally here, it's all I can think about! Hooray for whoever came up with this recipe!

The Headmaster Ritual

The Headmaster Ritual falls squarely into my favorite sub-genre of literature: academic dysfunction. This category includes favorites like The Secret History, Straight Man, Wonder Boys, and Special Topics in Calamity Physics. Many in this genre focus if not exclusively then emphatically on one perspective of surviving in an academic setting: either the students' view or the faculty's. The Headmaster Ritual, in contrast, offers up three main characters, the school's headmaster, a newbie teacher, and an unpopular senior who happens to be the headmaster's son. Antrim gives equal playing time to both Dyer (the teacher) and James (the student) leaving the headmaster out in the cold somewhat. He's little more than a caricature, and the reader is never given a satisfying understanding of his motivations. He's the catalyst for almost everything that happens in the book, and, for that reason, a key player. But in terms of the book's emotional heft, it's Dyer and James who carry the day.

Predictably, both Dyer and James are outsiders. These stories are never told from the perspective of the prom queen or quarterback; what fun would that be? I know very few people who confess to being popular in high school, and I think most of us enjoy seeing the popular stereotypes skewered by our unpopular fictional counterparts.

Unlike many of these academic-set books, which count on departmental and social dysfunction to continue unabated for all time, thus making them somewhat timeless, The Headmaster Ritual uses fictional but timely current events to place the story. There is a real-world political aspect present providing the high stakes for Dyer's and James's individual storyline climaxes.

The Headmaster Ritual doesn't crack my top five list for this type of book, but it was a fun and fast read.

Civic Duty

So, yesterday was election day. I was well aware of it, because Columbia very kindly gives us all the day off to do our civic duty. Had it not been for this vacation day, though, this election may have passed me by completely unnoticed. While my local and national news has been all a twitter with whether Hillary is being discriminated against because she's a woman, whether Fred Thompson's campaign is crumbling as quickly as a Law and Order suspect's alibi, or why Stephen Colbert has been banned from the democratic ticket in South Carolina, there has been nary a word about yesterday's elections.

Because I had the whole day off and, therefore, no excuse not to, I did actually vote. I went in totally unprepared with no idea what I was even voting on. This is not ideally the way a voter should enter the booth! Certainly some of this was on me; I could have done some research but didn't. But I also wish the media had devoted just a small amount to what was happening. I listen to NPR every morning and read the New York Times almost every day. I consider myself fairly well informed and still I had no idea. It was funny how the polling station workers seemed so happy to see me. I think they were bored out of their minds and pleased as punch to have something to occupy thirty seconds of what was surely a long, boring day.

What do you all think? Did anyone else vote?


PS: In other blog news, I see that my apartment pictures are MIA. I'll repost them tonight when I'm home and with my camera.

Amazing Neighborhood Discovery

Walking around my new 'hood over the weekend, I saw that one of the multiple churches near me (one of which I hear tolling its bells in a surprisingly pretty way on each hour) is the home of a thrift store. I don't have a lot of luck with second hand clothes even when they're called vintage to make them sound snazzy. I went in anyway, and was very pleasantly surprised to see that they also sell used books. There are a few book cases when you first walk in, as well as a whole room dedicated to novels, art books, history books, biographies, and more. While no where near as large, this place kicks The Strand's ass when it comes to price. I bought Assassination Vacation for $1.95 and Mansfield Park for 50 cents. Granted, the copy of Mansfield Park is well worn, but it was only 50 cents! This is like having the Ithaca Friends of the Library sale two blocks away 365 days a year.

As promised

I did enough work in my apartment this weekend to pull out the camera. Nothing is up on the walls yet and much is still disorganized, but I think it's looking pretty good.

Here's the view of the living room from the loft:



And the kitchen/back of the apartment:



And the loft:

A day in the life of a cat

It's pet picture day over here at Blog Fullard, and Camilla gamely volunteered to look all cute and cuddly for the camera. Actually, she has a really hard time keeping her eyes open when I take her picture with the flash on, so this image, taken sans flash, isn't the sharpest ever. But I think it's adorable how she burrowed into my pillowcase, and it cracks me up that her oversized paw looks like it's the same size as her head here.

Charles Isherwood agrees with me!

There is something very satisfying about seeing that a respected New York Times reviewer totally agrees with you. And I'm not talking about annoying Ben Brantley here, either. I'm talking about Charles Isherwood, who I tend to really like as a reviewer. Behold, his take on the latest Frankenstein creation.

Halloween musicals are never a good idea

Around this time last year, Josh, Todd, Jen, and I took in a viewing of Evil Dead: The Musical. I wish I could report that I loved it, but in truth I found it painful to sit through. The people around me seemed to be enjoying it, but I just could not find enough humor in the performances, spoofing, and massive amounts of fake blood to enjoy the evening. There was talk of leaving at intermission, which is something I used to never do and now only rarely do. But I was in favor of ditching. We ended up with a split vote and stayed for the duration.

Wednesday night Josh, Todd, and I tried again. It was Halloween, and though we didn't don costumes or score candy, we did try to get into the creepy crawly spirit by going to the new off-Broadway Frankenstein: The Musical (side note: the show is apparently suffering from massive ticket returns as fools who can't read think they're buying amazingly priced tickets to Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein musical, realize they aren't, and then try to get their money back. If a deal looks to good to be true, that's likely because it is). I went in with high hopes; the buzz hadn't been over the moon, but I'm a fan of Hunter Foster, who played Victor Frankenstein. He isn't always a hit, but his Bobby Strong was spot on and affords him the benefit of the doubt in my book. Sadly, there just wasn't much for him to work with here. Foster is best when comic, and this show was trying--oh, how hard it was trying!--to be atmospheric and dark. Steve Blanchard, as Frankenstein's creation, did a lot of heavy breathing and dragging of one leg to embody the monster. I wish he would have seen Eve Best in A Moon for the Misbegotten and done a bit of what she did. And apart from individual performances, the music just wasn't good. There was a great deal more synthesizer in action than any show this side of Jesus Christ Superstar deserves. Characters were never given an opportunity to interact with each other. Instead, the show raced through plot points with the chorus milling around the stage synopsizing the action and individuals rhapsodizing about their angst through song.

Todd began the night by warning us that if the show was bad, he wouldn't be pressured into staying. Intermission came and after talking for a while about what was and wasn't working, we decided to bail. Apologies to Hunter Foster and team, but it was a lot more fun to get drinks together for the rest of the night than stare forlornly at the playbill counting how many songs we had to go before the end.

NaBloPoMo Day 1

Good luck to all my fellow NaBloPoMo-ers out there! I'm trying to stock pile ideas of interesting things to write about this month, but there's no guarantee I won't resort to telling you about what I had for lunch at some point.

Laura and Tina have convinced me to also give NaWriNoMo a try this year, too. In the next 30 days, I'm supposed to write a 175 page or 50,000 word novel. So far I have 437 words and only half a clue what it is I'm writing. Plot, characters, and arc are all a bit fuzzy at this point. My hope is that all will emerge soon, or these are going to be 175 painful pages.

In the meantime, I'd like to point out that whoever decided NaBloPoMO and NaNoWriMo should take place in the same month is mean, mean, mean.