K.C. Shaw's Blog, page 12

What happened to my brain?

So there's an excellent post over at LadyBusiness looking at SF/F book reviews in blogs and how they break down along gender lines--that is, how many books by male authors are reviewed compared to how many books by female authors, and how the percentages relate to the gender of the reviewer. It's fascinating and not at all aggressive (translation: guys, you can go over there and read it without feeling defensive). The point of the post is mostly just to get people to think about the issue so that they'll be aware of their own choices in reading material.

This topic pops up pretty frequently online, which is good. Last time I blogged about my own reading choices at the beginning of 2011. My results then were a pretty even split between male and female authors, with the exception of mysteries, where I'd only read one book by a man.

So I went back and looked at what I read this past year (actually, I looked at everything from January 2011 to present) and noted down the authors' genders where I knew them. Since the LadyBusiness post only looked at SF/F for adults and YA, that's what I counted first. I came up with 26 male authors and 19 female.

That startled me, because typically I read more books by women. So I went back and totaled the genders of the mystery and non-specfic YA I read last year. And gulp. I read 23 books by male authors and 16 by female. Admittedly, ten of the male books were one mystery series I went crazy for last year (Barry Maitland), but I'd assumed those books would be outweighed by all the Georgette Heyer and Karen E. Olson mysteries I also read.

So between January 2011 and now, I read 84 novels for both adults and YA (I didn't count middle grade or nonfiction because the original survey didn't). Of those, 49 were written by men, 35 by women. And I'm a woman who likes to read books by women. What the hell happened?

You could win!

I'm a little slow sometimes. I knew that Double Dragon Publishing has an option to order POD print books, but I'd never actually connected that with the ability to, you know, order a POD print book of my Double Dragon ebooks. Yesterday I made that enormous leap and ordered a copy of The Dragon Whisperer--not to keep, but to give away on Goodreads!

So anyone who's interested, you can go here and get your name in the pot. You might win!

I am astounded at how many people have signed up already, incidentally. As of this writing, it's only been listed for a few hours but there are already 55 people who think they'd like to own it. If only they think they'd like to own it so much they actually go out and buy it.

I've got another Double Dragon book coming out this summer, Evil Outfitters, Ltd, so you can bet I'll be doing another giveaway.

What the hell, California Pizza Kitchen?

Seriously, what the hell is this? I open up the pizza and it's, like, maybe a cup and a half of shredded cheese and spinach that isn't even stuck to the dough, and it's sliding all over the place and half of it falls off when I open the plastic packaging. I had to add my own cheese to make it pizza-like instead of like a piece of toast with a sprinkling of cheese.

So California Pizza Kitchen can kiss my ass. Also, did I mention I have a camera now?

Enter the Jekyll

Okay, let's try this cat thing again.

Actually, it's obvious me and Jekyll are going to be fast friends. He's much more outgoing than the little gray cat, and he seems to like me, and he's adjusted very well to living with me. Of course, he probably feels like he's in cat heaven now--before, he was sharing a house with eight other cats.

His name is Jekyll because he's sweet as can be to people, but bullies other cats. Since I'm not a cat, I'm not worried. The worst thing he does is grab me around the ankles in the mornings before I'm dressed. And that just reminds me to get dressed earlier instead of shuffling around in my nightgown.

Chasing the sunset

When I got off work today, it was sunny and nearly 70 degrees. I was frantic to get out to Clear Creek, but there were Cat Issues. By the time everything was settled, it was 6:30 pm. The sun was going down and the temperature was dropping.

I went out to Clear Creek anyway. I needed to walk off my agitation, and I wanted to get another shot from Observation Point--I figure if I take one photo from the same spot at the end of each month, by the end of the year I'll have a nifty photo montage. Tomorrow I have to work late and Wednesday it's supposed to rain (plus I have to await the new cat).

I don't know how long the hike to Observation Point is--not long, probably, but it's very much uphill. It was getting dark and the sky above the river was already turning gold and orange with sunset. I went as fast as I could, wheezing and panting and sweating, and it got darker and darker and the sunset peaked and started to fade.

Finally I staggered up one last slope and the log pavilion at Observation Point was ahead of me, silhouetted against the western sky like one of Rivendell's outbuildings. I made it to the bench and collapsed.

The view was just gorgeous. I'd forgotten that they light up the dam at night; and the sky gleamed pewter in the river. I took a bunch of pictures, but my hands were shaking so much that they were all pretty blurry. The one above is the only decent one of the bunch.

I went slower on my way back, enjoying the walk (especially since it was mostly downhill). The sky still held some light and a crescent moon was high in the sky. That particular trail is picked out in many places with pale stones washed down from the hillside, so I never had to worry about losing my way in the dark; the stones shone faintly like starlight at my feet. It's been a long, long time since I hiked in the dark. I'd forgotten how different it feels from daytime.

I got back to the car at 7:30, and I can't have gone much more than two miles an hour overall, so I guess I probably only hiked about two miles--maybe less, since I spent some time trying to get a decent picture. Still, it was a good workout and a perfect way to cool down from a frustrating day.

...And there she goes.

Okay, so after nearly two days with me (well, two days and one night), the little gray cat still hadn't eaten anything, or drunk anything, or used the litterbox (or the floor, although I'm not so sure about that part). She spent the entire day while I was at work hiding under my bed, as far as I can tell, and I spent the entire day worrying about her.

So when I got home and realized she was making herself sick rather than deal with the move to a new home, I called her former owner and asked if she could take her back. And thank heavens, she did. I feel guilty about this, but on the other hand the woman has another cat (actually, she has ten) that is more outgoing and needs a good home. So she took the little gray cat back tonight--and the cat is thrilled to get back to her person--and Wednesday night she's bringing the other cat over.

It's a cat swap. Like a cookie swap, but with more claws.

So now I feel guilty and sad, because she was a sweet little cat. But I am not really emotionally prepared to deal with a neurotic animal right now. We'll see how the other cat does. Probably a good thing I didn't get a dog, huh?

Here she is!

She's been hiding since I got her at 9am this morning, but she's letting me pet her as long as I lean over the couch and stretch my arm down to touch her without her actually moving. I got a picture of her with the flash. She didn't even jump.

She's about two years old and very shy. I think we'll get along just fine once she decides to come out from behind the furniture. The house is full of cat toys.

No dog. Cat.

You know how if you've been reading one author's books for an extended period of time (in my case, ten days) and no other books, and then you finish the last one, it's hard to imagine reading anything else by any other author? That's me right now. I finished the last Mike Carey book and can't settle to anything else.

In totally unrelated news, I'm getting a cat instead of a dog. I'd actually told my coworker that I couldn't possibly take care of a dog right now, so whatever synchronicity was gearing up in that area got cut off. Then a friend of my mother's asked if I could take in her dad's cat after he died, and I said I would. She's going to bring the cat over this weekend.

There will be pictures.

I think it's a movement

I picked a terrible time to stop reviewing books over at Skunk Cat, because last week I discovered a great new author. I recommend Mike Carey's Felix Castor novels, starting with The Devil You Know. I'm on the fourth book (five available as far as I know, and I have the fifth waiting for me when I finish this one). They walk the line between fantasy and horror, with a main character who's an exorcist (and an atheist) who dispels ghosts using music.

So I've been reading steadily all week. I'm way ahead of my goal of reading 100 books this year. And I just realized, with a certain amount of embarrassment, that out of the 22 books read so far, seven have featured ghosts. But I can't get enough of books with ghosts, a trend I noticed a year ago. And I still sometimes watch Ghost Hunters.

Ghosts? They're the new vampires. Maybe I'll throw one into my next book.

Names are important

Here is a list of names from a book I'm reading. Look at them, and then I have a question for you.

Brian
Billy
Larry
Peter
Henry
Kyle
Mike
Ryan
Kevin
Heather
Monica
Amanda
Tracy

Now, how old are these people?

That's right, those are names of people I grew up with. In other words, if they're not forty yet, they're nearing that age. And yet these are characters in a YA book published in 2008.

I'm not surprised that I picked up the book from the remainders table at Books a Million. I'm just surprised it got published at all. It's not even very good--the main character is repulsive and the plot is slow and dull. And the author is clearly out of touch with something as basic as what this generation of young adults are named. It's no wonder that she has the main character wanting to read a Rolling Stone magazine (have high school kids ever read Rolling Stone? At least since the 70s?). And I'm only 68 pages into the book.

Character names are important. If you're sloppy about naming your characters any old thing, you're probably being sloppy about other details. And you will end up REMAINDERED. Be warned!