Autumnal Conspiracies

How do I know that autumn’s here?  (Okay, it’s November, but I live in Tennessee so fall comes late.)  Is it the apple cider that’s mulling on the stove? Is it the leaves that are going from green to crimson? Is it the leaf mold that makes us sneeze 24 hours a day?

No. It’s none of those things. I know it’s autumn because I need two wardrobes.  In the mornings, I need an undershirt, long-sleeve shirt, wool sweater, jeans, and warm socks.  By afternoon, I need a pair of shorts and a tank top.

It freezes during the night and hits the 70s or 80s in the afternoon.  Why is that?  I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation that has something to do with wind patterns and the seasonal movements of the earth around the sun, but that’s hogwash.  I’m pretty sure it’s caused by an under-the-table deal between the detergent companies and the clothing manufacturers.  (Kind of like the deal between greeting card manufacturers and the postal service, which created holidays like Secretary’s Day and National Talk-Like-A-Pirate-Day. Yes, that’s a real day with real cards.)

Anyway, the temperature swings are clearly a result of weather altering satellites owned by Proctor and Gamble and the Gap. In a bid to make up lost revenue due to the recession, they’ve messed with the weather and engineered these multiple clothing changes. Instead of tossing shorts and tank top in the wash, I also have to wash jeans, an undershirt, a tee-shirt and heavy socks.  Now multiply this by the six people in the house. (thankfully, we have only one girl or you could be multiplying this by twelve to include outfits that were tried on and discarded).  Yep, that’s a lot of laundry.

So I’m going through lots of detergent. (BTW, in an effort to save money and not pay for any more satellites purchased by P&G, I bought the Costco version of Tide.  Don’t do it.  It doesn’t dissolve properly, even in warm water, and leaves little bits of detergent on your clothes.)  However, I’ve outsmarted Gap as well as Target and Kohls, who are no doubt involved in this conspiracy, by buying at a thrift store, sewing, and remaking hand-me-downs.

Thankfully, winter’s just around the corner, although then I’ll have to face the gas company/heating oil conspiracy. I have no idea how to get around that.  Last winter, I tried turning the heater down very low. But when the kids “saw” their breath, mutinous rumors abounded. Their eagle eyes have already been watching the thermostat. I must come up with new ways to thwart the heating company. Or my kids.  Hmm. The heating company is easier.

N.B. For some reason, Blogger insists on putting my final paragraphs in a different font.  What's up with that? I've tried every remedy.  It must be a Microsoft/Blogger conspiracy formulated by the computer imps who really run the companies.

Meacham Baby

You might remember that a couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I was going to the Meacham Writers’ Conference.  The day finally came.  If you’ve never been to a workshop before, it’s like showing off your new baby to a bunch of strangers whose job is to find your baby’s flaws. Yeah, kind of scary.  Since I’m not the best judge of my own work. I was nervous.  What made it even worse was that I didn’t have anything new to submit, I just dusted off an old novel that had been “trunked” for the last six or seven years.  So I hadn’t had time to decide if that “spot” on the cheek of chapter one was a cute freckle or a witchy mole with hair growing out of it.  My other worry was that this old manuscript is what I call my “heart novel.”  And I really didn’t want the story to be dumped on. 

Mine was one of the last manuscripts to be dealt with in the workshop.  I was a little more relaxed because everyone seemed to be knowledgeable about writing and fair.  But I was still pasting on my it’s-okay-I-can-take-criticism face in case I was told the story was trite or cliché or had a witchy mole in chapter one.

As it turned out the spot was a very cute freckle, and the baby was tickled and cooed over.  The seminar leader told me to get the book in the hands of agents asap.  I was stunned—my baby wasn’t a three-eyed alien.  I guess I’m going to dress the book in its cutest ruffles and frills, i.e. re-edit it one more time and look for an agent.

Reader Recommendations

(This isn’t exactly a Friday Five, but I’d like some opinions so bear with me.)

The other day, Jacob was looking for a book to read (he’s a picky reader) so I suggested Dune. I remembered reading and enjoying it as a teenager.  He borrowed it from the library. 

Then, of course, I did the parent thing—I thought, “Uh, I don’t exactly remember the details of the book...maybe I don’t want him to read the book.”  So I started reading it again.  And I’m really enjoying it (so far nothing too objectionable).  I’m not a big sci-fi reader, but a well-written book is lovely whatever the genre.  One of the things I like about reading outside my favorite genres is that I pay more attention to the writing and how the author creates his/her magic.

What I’m loving about Dune is that although the pace is slower than I might have imagined, the author is spreading a lot of breadcrumbs for me to follow.  Plus, Frank Herbert, Dune’s author, does his world building with a restrained hand.  A lot of sci-fi is yawn inducing for me because they authors get too caught up in world building.  But in Dune I learn only what I need to know, i.e. no information dumps.  So instead of knowing every oddity of the setting, I learn what the characters experience, what their normative is.  And I’m fascinated.  Small details here and there create a more real, exotic world than a paragraph detailing the differences.  I guess what I’m saying is that I’m learning from a master about place and setting.  That’s what I like about reading out of my favorite genres.

What I’m asking for in this post is for you all to share with me who you think are masters of their genres.  I can’t wait to start putting books on hold at the library.  Thanks!  Here are a few recommendations that I have to share.

Detective Mysteries:

1.Agatha Christie.  But some of her more unusual books.  Try reading a few of her Tommy and Tuppence stories: N or M and By the Pricking of My Thumbs.  In these books (and others with Tommy and Tuppence) Christie allows the couple to age and their relationship to mature. Also check out some of her plays that have been novelized—very interesting style.

2.Dorothy Sayers. The Lord Peter Wimsey books.  (Especially the ones with Harriet Vane—Harriet’s a writer so you can’t help but love her. ;)

Don’t forget, share with us what you love and who the masters are.

Writers' Quotes

A good style should show no signs of effort.  
What is written should seem a happy accident. 
 ~W. Somerset Maugham

Stats

Ariel is fascinated by statistics. Today she researched the professor-student ratio of various majors at UTC. She discovered that the chemistry professor-student ratio was 1 to 36 with a retention rate of 54.1%--the number of students who don’t change to a different major. Then she pulled up the mathematics professor-student ratio, which was 1 to 1.56. Yes, that means that for every math professor there’s 1.56 students (and that doesn’t include the adjunct professors—of course, they usually teach non-major math classes). That’s an amazing statistic. But then you have to consider that the departmental retention rate is 35.9%.  Hmm. So despite the fact that each math professor could teach one and half students, basically private tutoring, they still can’t retain 2/3s of the students majoring in the department. Hmm. Why? Any ideas?  I’m guessing it must be personal hygiene issues.

Meaner Than Me

My children call me “the meanest mom” they know.  It’s a title I wear with pride as it really means, “You make me do chores,” “You monitor my computer time,” and “You make me do the schoolwork that I’m capable of instead of what the government/schoolboard requires.”  Also very high on the list of why I’m so mean is music lessons.  The kids take music lessons until they graduate from high school.

Cal and I both come from musical families so we think of music lessons like we think of math—it’s just one of those things you have to learn.  And the music teachers have agreed, the children all were given musical gifts.  Of course, just like math, they’d rather not study it, even if they’re good at it.  

Jacob was, according to his teacher, born with an internal metronome.  So he’s particularly good with rhythm.  His teacher’s given him lots of syncopated, swing, etc.  But she’s also given him sonatas. She claims he was created to play sonatas.  Jacob strongly disagrees. Here’s what happened at his lessons the other day.

Teacher: Take the second ending.

J: Can’t I take the first? (So he can replay the stuff he has just played and avoid the difficult stuff coming next.)

Teacher: No.

J (After finishing the section): I don’t like this piece.

Teacher: Too bad.  I do.

J: It’s really long.

Teacher: Honey, this is only the first movement.

J (After the stunned silence wears off):  What?

Teacher (paging through the piece): This is the second movement

J (grunts)

Teacher: Oh, look here is the third movement.

J: I really hate this song.

Teacher: This is my favorite sonata

J: When can I quit it?

Teacher: When you love it as much as I do.

Jacob sighs heavily and meditates on the fact that he’ll be working on the stupid sonata FOREVER.  And me, what am I doing during this exchange?  I’m smiling—there are way “meaner” people in the world than me.

Bomb Threats and Writers' Quotes

The university that Luke and Ariel attend had a bomb threat this morning.  Luke was sent home as part of the evacuation of threatened buildings.  Ariel's still in class.  I'm wondering if she's going to be evac'd.  Sigh.  Why do people think this will actually help them during midterms?  Do they seriously think an extra day of study is going to make a difference?


Being that it's Thursday, here's the writer's quote for the day.  Enjoy.

‘Writing is a deeply immersive experience.  When the words are flying, the house could be burgled and I wouldn’t notice.  I have a low boredom threshold and I like intensity – writing is a way of escaping the quotidian.’

~William Wordsworth