Kate Rothwell's Blog, page 41

In my quest to over-ride my curmudgeonly** spirit, I look...

In my quest to over-ride my curmudgeonly** spirit, I look for Bright Side of Things. If Christmas is going to be foisted on us year after year, and take up more and more of our lives, I might as well try to appreciate it, right? Cast off the bleak mood created by endless chirping carols. Stop shaking my fist at Little Drummer Boy renditions at Ocean State Job Lot. Only because it'll make my life easier. I can't stay in a cave from Thanksgiving through New Year.

So reason number 87 to say, "Woot! Christmas" ......

Every few weeks I visit the failing Italian bakery. It's cheerfully run-down --clean but plain -- and I like the people who work there and the coffee is cheap. But there's rarely anyone else in there. I fret for the survival of the bakery. Today I went and the line was out the door. Turns out everyone NEEDS THOSE MEH ITALIAN COOKIES this time of year. The people behind the counter had huge rubbermaid containers full of those pale tasteless cookies and they (the people) were slinging them (the cookies) onto all these trays -- which were then tied up in tinsel and plastic. The person in front of me bought 75 dollars worth of cookie trays.

It was amazing and it means those nice people will have work for at least another week.

Also, I forgot reason number 1: I love the winter solstice. GO, MR. SOL! Come back to us! Not really Christmas, but I can dig that whole rebirth of hope thing.

______________________
**I know curmudgeons seem to be male, but I haven't found a female equivalent.

stuff edition

What?! A civilized disagreement between an author and a reviewer? And one that actually results in some interesting conversation? That's just uninternetty stuff.

* * *

I say yes to more five star reviews. Life is too short kvetch about the details of the books that entertain me and that are as enjoyable as hell (if hell was all candy floss and carousels). If the book gave me a lift, it gets five stars over at goodreads where I keep track of that sort of thing, dammit. Call me Harriet Klausner, if you want. I don't care.

I'm sure Patricia Briggs and Lois McMaster Bujold are heaving sighs of relief to read that my mighty rating index finger is going for the fives instead of fours.

Actually, if people really did pay attention to my reviews, I'd have to stop writing either them or stories. Anyone who writes books shouldn't wield that kind power over other people's's books and careers because. . . because. . . . because

Um.

It's not fair.

Yes, yes, we've read this stuff before. Katiebabs has discussed it. And we're talking about an old and boring topic. I've read (and enjoyed) plenty of reviews written by authors about other people's books. Hey, it's the way all those Sunday book review sections have operated for years and years. I don't mind reading 'em at all.

But still, it would feel unfair (or it would, if someone other than jmc, rachel and beth read my sbds)

Consistency isn't considered a major virtue, I hope? At least my brand of hypocrisy doesn't always work in my favor. Stuff it.

* * * * *
I'm sitting in Border, avoiding writing cover art instructions, and I realized there is nothing here my 13-year-old wants. This makes me sad. I don't know what to buy him, other than computer game stuff. Ew.

* * * * *

Back to work. I must lure people into buying my stuff.

nice to wake up to

A very nice review.

"When Bonnie Dee and Summer Devon work together on a book, it becomes an automatic buy for me. I know anything that is co-authored by them together will sweep me up into the intricate lives of the characters and the fast paced storyline. So, when I noticed that the book, The Nobleman and the Spy was up to be reviewed, I anxiously requested it, and I'm glad I did. Not only did The Nobleman and the Spy immediately captivate my attention from the first page, it held it onto it until the very last word.

* * * *

In other news, Aya is visiting. This visit is all about the food. We made cheese from a kit she's got and she brought us a huge durian--that thing had to weigh 20 lbs.

Oh. My. God. I think she'll post pictures. But here's my point: that quote by Anthony Bourdain, "when you eat a durian, your breath will smell like you've been french-kissing your dead grandmother." is not an exaggeration, much.

I got about two bites in when I decided it was not a taste I'd ever acquire. Once she was finished digging into the thing, I dragged the stinky corpse out to the compost pit but the kitchen still reeks.

SBD mid book variety day

I'm reading three books at the same time.
1. 61 Hours a Jack Reacher novel (on my Kindle)
2. Trust me on this by Jennifer Crusie (an actual book)
and
3. The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton (an audio book)

All I need to do is add an erotic book or a science fiction and I'll have a REALLY Wide Variety of stories. Oh, look. Up next is a Patricia Briggs.

The funny thing is that the Reacher book is the one I find hardest to put down and that's not because it's the best -- in fact, in terms of characters and writing, it's a third. The damn thing doesn't let up, that's why it's hard to put down. (get it? up? down). Thank goodness there's no romantic figure in this one. When Reacher flirts, it's painful -- like that Susan/Amanda flirtation in the last book. Stick to beating the shit out of tough guys, Reacher. Don't forget to land a couple of sidekick type people in the morgue. Thanks.

I think I've read too many of them in a row. The various Reacher tropes are annoying me and that's not his fault; it's mine. If I read one book a year the way I was supposed to, instead of however many in one month, I'd be reminded of his talents and habits (and all those damn "____ said nothing"s) -- instead I'm pummeled with them.

Except wait. . . I just finished a major Lois McMaster Bujold glom and never got tired of Miles or his stories, so maybe it is a little Reacher's fault. No wait . . . . I've changed my mind AGAIN.

The thing about Reacher is that he doesn't grow or change much and I think that's what we want. If he developed a conscience, it would probably be as bad as those flirtations. He's an old fashioned hero like one of those old fashioned television shows. You didn't have much a continuing, growing story line in those series (think Perry Mason) and he's more like one of those.

You know what you got when you turned on the tube and you didn't have to worry that you missed the episode in which it was hinted that Perry and Hamilton Burger were carrying on a secret love affair. Hell, you didn't even have to wonder about Perry and Della from week to week. So yeah. Reacher is Reacher and Miles is Miles. If I was on a desert island, I'd grab the Bujolds, but no one's asking me to, so there.

I'm almost done with the Crusie and it's not my favorite, but you know what they say. A mediocre Crusie is . . . is . . . worth two in the bush? A Crusie book always has some wonderful dialogue or character sketches or something to make it, um, wonderful. Maybe I ought to hire a writer for this blog.

The thing I don't like -- two pairs of characters decide they're in love less than 2 days after they meet. Huh. That worked just fine for me in the last Crusie I read, Getting Rid of Bradley. Maybe because it's two pairs? Or maybe the characters are less vivid? There aren't enough dogs? I'd stop to think about what I don't like, but I'd rather just enjoy the characters and dialogue. There's some point to reading great escapist fun: you do not have to analyze it, even on SBD days.

Oh and it's time to whine about the Garden book already? Okay. The skipping around time hither and thither is going to bug me, I know already and I'm only up to my third skippage. A jump here and there is fine, but this is dizzying and there's more to come, Amazon reviews warn me.

Hey. The writing is good, the reader is good.

And I have to make a fire in the fireplace now.

this is jammed into my head

The good news: it is not Santa Baby.

confirmation of a suspicion

Just as I'd suspected, I have a double standard.

Our latest book finally got a meh review (over at Goodreads) and the person writing it only mentioned Bonnie Dee, as in she seemed to indicate that Bonnie was the only author. This is something I've whined about before and I've always had the urge to say hey! hey! hey! I wrote it too.

I do not have that urge at the moment, but I suppose I ought to say something. Right? I mean if I'm going to get all HEY and barge in when there are good reviews, I should about the other kind, too.

Right?

Yeah....especially since the reviewer didn't like the beginning of the book and I think (I have to look, though) that I was responsible for much of that writing.

okay NOW SBD -- funny stuff

So A Civil Campaign, which takes place on a distant planet in the future and Frederica, which is set in Regency England, are more alike than you'd expect. I'd actually pick up and consult the books for this comparison, but
1. I'm lazy
2. I just read them both**
3. the humor is my idea of fun, so I haven't forgotten those bits of the stories. Even though I'd stumble if someone asked me to sum up the Bujold book, because it was jammed with subplots, I did not forget that dinner scene. Nosirree.

The plots, eh, in the end they're both all about marriage. Granted the plot of Civil Campaign is more convoluted and has more characters. But there's love and courtship and the humorous scene that I'm thinking of -- Miles's disastrous dinner party--reminded me of the Lufra the Barcelona Collie scene. The way the people dealt with the physical funny bits was what mattered most.

Yup, the humor in both books is physical. A jumping dog vs. some jumping bugs and a great many offended people. But it's the characters' reactions that make us laugh and the fact that these incidents make perfect sense given the set of people (or animals) that are integral to the story.

That's when that sort of body humor doesn't entirely work for me -- when it doesn't come out of the characters or plot, it just comes out of the blue. Slapstick humor, a man falling on a banana peel, can be sort of funny. But that stuff can be masterful and wonderful when you know how that banana peel got there and when you know what the man's response is, and/or the people watching him fall respond. That's what both authors do so beautifully. The slightly sly or ironic responses of characters. Nothing too obvious, usually. . .yessssssss, so pretty.

________
** I love them both. I'd read Frederica years ago and this was an audio book. The one thing I was disappointed by on my reread --> how often Frederica calls Alverstoke "odious" Heyer's heroines spend a great deal of time berating her heroes. It's old even when they are gurgling with laughter about it. I hadn't noticed that tendency until I reread the Reluctant Widow.

SBD later but first, the tooth

I'll get around to SBD but first, I have a dilemma. I asked Mike what I should do and he said "I dunno. ask the facebook world."

Eh. Well. It's less bizarro than those people asking if they should have a baby or not. . .

My question: Do I save a tooth or yank it out?

Here's its dental history. The thing had a cavity, then a bigger cavity. And then a root canal. And it's acting up again. There's an infection at the very way bottom of the root. So the dentist said, okay it's dental surgery time. They go in via the gum and jaw and do things that I don't want to think about. I said what about just yanking the damn thing? He looked shocked, but he would being a dentist and all. I'm thinking the damn tooth has had its chances and it keeps acting up. Maybe it's time to say goodbye.

It's a molar sort of a tooth, maybe two or three from the last back tooth. That lmissing tooth look doesn't shock me. There was a time in my life when most of the adults I saw during the week had one or more teeth missing (refugee dental care isn't great, even after they leave the camps) I'd ask the refugees how much they miss those missing teeth, but that seems sort of . . . rude.

So I'll ask any of you. Does life change so very much if there's one space way back there?

I'm trying hard to care about the appearance of my smile, but frankly, I couldn't care less about that part. Except maybe I should. Does it put you off to see grownups with missing teeth?

Okay. This post is going on too long. I'll go pick up the kid from after school activities and get back to the books in another post.

I read two books lately, Frederica by Heyer (a Regency) and A Civil Campaign by Bujold (a Miles Vorkosigan sci-fi sort of a book) and they were a wonderfully good fit. Both Drawing Room fluff.

But later, later. If I'm late fetching the kid, I get a lecture you wouldn't believe. Almost as daunting as the prospect of dental surgery.

eat more cranberry sauce

Here's a fabulous recipe I found somewhere online:
bag o' cranberries (I used a mix of frozen and fresh)
3 cups raspberries (trader joe's frozen for me)
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup crystallized ginger.

Chop the ginger by hand (the food processor didn't manage it well for me.) then toss it and cranberries into food processor. Grind it up, but not to a pulp. Just enough. Add sugar and then sprinkle in the frozen raspberries (not need to thaw them), stir not too hard so most of the raspberries stay whole.

Let it all sit for a few hours. Eat. Oh, boy. YUM.

A lament

O car, why do you require a new transmission? O dog, why do you need these visits to the vet? O children, what is this clamoring for new shoes? And, O WHY, do you want those presents next month?

Alas, powerball ticket why are you so worthless?