My daughter Ariel has a problem. She doesn’t think it’s a problem. I do. Now it’s not your typical problem, but it’s the kind of problem that drives a writer like me absolutely batty. She reads the end of books before the beginning. This is utter sacrilege.
She’ll come home with a stack of books from the library. Then she’ll be lying on the couch, reading the first chapter or two and then she reads the last couple of chapters. Imagine me, pulling out my hair. “Ariel, why do you do that?”
Ariel: I have to see if the book’s worth reading.
Me: What?!
Ariel: I want to know if the main character’s going to end up with the guy. Because if she’s not, then I’m not wasting my time with this novel.
Me (I’m beginning to twitch): I understand feeling ripped by the occasional novel, but the author spend months, probably years crafting that book and to skip all the tension building to get to the climax...you’re ruining the author’s work.
Ar (eyebrows raised): I’ll read it if it’s good. Besides I hate it when some author pulls a deus ex machina. (Deus ex machina is Latin meaning “god from a machine.” It’s when a writer throws on an ending to tie up the story that the rest of the novel doesn’t justify.)
Me: I totally understand. But that’s the risk you take when begin a novel. You have to give the author a certain amount of trust.
Ar: I’ve gotten burned too many times.
Now the fact that Ariel reads the ending of books is a bad situation. But there is a worse one—one that has played out many times in our house. Imagine Ariel is sitting at my computer with a document open. I lean over to see what she’s doing.
Me: Oh, you’re reading my novel.
Ar: Uh, huh.
Me (looking closer): You’re on chapter twenty-nine.
Ar: Yep.
Me (turning purple): You’re reading the end of my novel before...(I sputter here unable to find the necessary words)...you’ve read the whole thing.
Ar: Yeah.
Me: I hate, hate, hate that.
Ar (giving me her dimply smile and twinkly eyes): You should password protect your documents.
Me: Like that’ll work. (When Ar was little, I used to password protect my computer as a game for her to try and crack. It’s never taken her more than a day to hack my system.) I know I could come up with an unbreakable code, but then I’d forget it. Maybe I need to put down the “parental foot,” but it’s become sort of a game between the two of us. And I love games.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Friday Fun
Here's something fun for Friday. I really try hard not to be romantic or sentimental, but I couldn't resist this. Enjoy! Be sure to full screen it.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Drip, drip
Four years ago Cal and I put in drip irrigation. The idea was to save water, money, and time. It has saved time. I don’t have to lug around a too heavy watering can and water each plant—I like to garden so I have a lot of plants. It may also be saving water and money. However, that is offset by the days that I forget that I’ve turned on the drip irrigation and it drips and drips and drips and drips.
Cal and I got up this morning to go running and noticed water spilling out of the birdbath (it’s hooked into the irrigation line). Two out of the four irrigation lines were on all night. We turned them off. Later I went to turn on irrigation line three, which I forgot to turn on last night, I discovered that line two was still on—neither Cal nor I can figure out how that happened. So one irrigation lines was on for 15 hours. Yep. I’m guessing I didn’t save a lot of money this month. On a positive note, my strawberry plants are very perky.
Cal and I got up this morning to go running and noticed water spilling out of the birdbath (it’s hooked into the irrigation line). Two out of the four irrigation lines were on all night. We turned them off. Later I went to turn on irrigation line three, which I forgot to turn on last night, I discovered that line two was still on—neither Cal nor I can figure out how that happened. So one irrigation lines was on for 15 hours. Yep. I’m guessing I didn’t save a lot of money this month. On a positive note, my strawberry plants are very perky.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Camping
On Monday Calvin and Matthew left to go camping. The rest of us stayed home—we remembered camping. Matthew doesn’t. The last time he went camping, he wasn’t actually born. I was six months pregnant with him and then eight months when we went camping again. This clearly explains why I haven’t been camping in thirteen years. After all, when you’re beached-whale-pregnant and the air mattress springs a leak during the middle of the night, diapers are changed in a tent, and you yell at your toddler “Stop eating dirt,” camping becomes associated with misery.
Matt called me. He told me they set up the tent, hiked, cooked hot dogs over an open fire, and saw beautiful vistas. I’m starting to remember why we used to go camping in the first place. I can’t wait to see the pictures they’re taking.
Matt called me. He told me they set up the tent, hiked, cooked hot dogs over an open fire, and saw beautiful vistas. I’m starting to remember why we used to go camping in the first place. I can’t wait to see the pictures they’re taking.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Almost Summer
This week is standardized testing. For some reason I always dread this, although for me as a teacher it’s actually fairly nice. I sit around with pages of editing—I get to edit while I “teach.” And when I need a break from editing, I get to read. What a bummer! :) And once testing is over, I’m done. Summer Break! Imagine me doing the happy dance. Although...I do have to sew Shakespeare costumes, finish up some serious yardwork, and reorganize/clean every cupboard in the house—they are currently white-washed sepulchers. Hmmm. Teaching sounds much more fun.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Books
I’ve been sick the past couple of days. And the only thing that’s good about it is that before I got sick, I went to the library and borrowed a stack of books. I went hoping that some of the books I’d put on hold were in. They weren’t. So I did the scan the shelves and pick out books—judging them by their covers and the teaser on the inside cover.
Wednesday I finished a YA book titled Gone by Michael Grant. It had a beautiful cover and the teaser looked interesting. Ariel, who went with me to the library, sneered. Apparently she’d started the book and never finished it. I finished it. Here’s my take.
The premise is interesting. One day, for no apparent reason, everyone aged 15 and older disappears. And as people turn 15, they disappear. Of course, with adults gone, and huge power vacuum develops with the good kids and bad kids fighting it out. They use guns and “powers.” Some kids develop them, some kids don’t.
The book wasn’t bad. It kept me reading. Two problems, though. One, the first third of the book wasn’t all that well written. I kept thinking, “Show, don’t tell!” It was almost enough to make me stop. But I really, really wanted to find out what was happening to the kids and if they’d be rescued or rescue themselves, which leads me to problem number two. The book hints at what’s gone wrong (no spoilers), but doesn’t work it out clearly. And in the end the bad guys lose, sort of. They slink off until another day (sequel?). And “The Darkness” is never explained (sequel?). Here’s the issue. As a writer you can leave the door open for sequels, but you’ve got to “spend every emotional penny.” If you don’t resolve most of the issues, the readers feel like they’ve been ripped off. Like the book was teasing them. I don’t know about you, but I hate being teased.
Wednesday I finished a YA book titled Gone by Michael Grant. It had a beautiful cover and the teaser looked interesting. Ariel, who went with me to the library, sneered. Apparently she’d started the book and never finished it. I finished it. Here’s my take.
The premise is interesting. One day, for no apparent reason, everyone aged 15 and older disappears. And as people turn 15, they disappear. Of course, with adults gone, and huge power vacuum develops with the good kids and bad kids fighting it out. They use guns and “powers.” Some kids develop them, some kids don’t.
The book wasn’t bad. It kept me reading. Two problems, though. One, the first third of the book wasn’t all that well written. I kept thinking, “Show, don’t tell!” It was almost enough to make me stop. But I really, really wanted to find out what was happening to the kids and if they’d be rescued or rescue themselves, which leads me to problem number two. The book hints at what’s gone wrong (no spoilers), but doesn’t work it out clearly. And in the end the bad guys lose, sort of. They slink off until another day (sequel?). And “The Darkness” is never explained (sequel?). Here’s the issue. As a writer you can leave the door open for sequels, but you’ve got to “spend every emotional penny.” If you don’t resolve most of the issues, the readers feel like they’ve been ripped off. Like the book was teasing them. I don’t know about you, but I hate being teased.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Carrot Coveting
The other day, we were watching NCIS on a Netflix disk when I stopped the movie. Amidst the protests, I heard “Why did you stop the movie?” After all, they hadn’t seen any reasons that I normally stopped a show like inappropriately attired females, etc.
“I’m sorry,” I explained, “but I have to get vegetables.”
All the noise and chatter ended. “What?”
Me: I saw a character eating a carrot and now I’m coveting.
Them: Who?
Me: Agent Lee was eating a carrot in the background.
Them: You’ve got to be kidding. We didn’t even see her.
Honestly, this is from kids who eat every fifteen minutes, when possible. You’d think they’d be the least bit understanding. But I don’t think it was the fact that I wanted to get something to eat as much as the fact that I’d stop the show to get something as “lame” as carrots. They’d understand ice cream, cookies, hamburger, or potato chips. (Okay, I could get a serious craving for salt and vinegar potato chips, but I wouldn’t indulge it because I’d eat the whole bag.)
But carrots... They’re a healthy indulgence—vitamin A, beta carotene, fiber, etc. Besides I’ve always had a thing for carrots. When I was little my mom took me to the pediatrician because my skin had taken on an orange cast, it turns out that I was eating way too many carrots.
While the kids waited, I went to the kitchen. But our carrots were a bit limp. So I settled for cucumbers and lettuce. The kids rolled their eyes. Then we got back to Gibbs and Abby and Ducky. They solved the murder. Agent Lee didn’t help. I guess she’s there just to increase carrot sales.
“I’m sorry,” I explained, “but I have to get vegetables.”
All the noise and chatter ended. “What?”
Me: I saw a character eating a carrot and now I’m coveting.
Them: Who?
Me: Agent Lee was eating a carrot in the background.
Them: You’ve got to be kidding. We didn’t even see her.
Honestly, this is from kids who eat every fifteen minutes, when possible. You’d think they’d be the least bit understanding. But I don’t think it was the fact that I wanted to get something to eat as much as the fact that I’d stop the show to get something as “lame” as carrots. They’d understand ice cream, cookies, hamburger, or potato chips. (Okay, I could get a serious craving for salt and vinegar potato chips, but I wouldn’t indulge it because I’d eat the whole bag.)
But carrots... They’re a healthy indulgence—vitamin A, beta carotene, fiber, etc. Besides I’ve always had a thing for carrots. When I was little my mom took me to the pediatrician because my skin had taken on an orange cast, it turns out that I was eating way too many carrots.
While the kids waited, I went to the kitchen. But our carrots were a bit limp. So I settled for cucumbers and lettuce. The kids rolled their eyes. Then we got back to Gibbs and Abby and Ducky. They solved the murder. Agent Lee didn’t help. I guess she’s there just to increase carrot sales.
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