More Synchronicity

I ran into some more reading synchronicity this weekend. Two books in a row, featuring amnesia. Now amnesia happens a lot more in fiction than real life, but since both of these books came from authors who are on my personal auto-buy list, I was unaware of these plot points until I dove in. It's also somewhat fascinating since they are different (not better or worse, just different) as two books can be. I suppose you could find two books that were more different, but one one hand (shelf?) we have Eileen Dreyer's Barely a Lady - an early Regency story that takes place in Belgium and England about a woman who stumbles across her ex-husband on the battlefield to discover that he is wearing the wrong (French) uniform and does not recall the last five years (which involve him accusing her of infidelity, and tossing her out, and divorcing her). On the other shelf we have Marjorie M. Liu's A Wild Light, the lastest installment of the Hunter Kiss series, a contemporary urban fantasy about a woman who protects humans from the things that wish to harm them, taking place in Seattle, and a few other planes as well. Both very enjoyable. And I felt both of them worked with the amnesia stories well.
Edited for typos.

Censorship Sucks

So, here’s the thing - I know I’ve said most, if not all, of this before. But it apparently bears repeating. People don’t have to love every boo, want to read every book, or even want their kids to read every book. Where censorship becomes an issue is when you make that decision for a whole group. I learned about sex when I was four. It did not make me try to run out and have any. I can’t pinpoint when I learned about drugs, but I can tell you that I was lucky enough to go to a great school that offered not only comprehensive sex ed, but drug education that was more than these are all the things you shouldn’t do. (It also talked about the different effects of different drugs, and the side effects.)
And I love books. I learned about all sorts of fascinating things from books, sparked great discussion with my parents and friends based on scenarios I read about, and got to think about what I would do if I were the character. Intriguingly, the Our Whole Lives sex ed course, uses similar scenario based role playing to help students (of all ages, they have junior high, high school, young adult and adult versions) think about how to handle conversations and choices. So I think reading about such things is great, and again, I promise teens know about sex and drugs (and rock and roll).
Ellen Hopkins, author of such books, was invited to the Teen Lit Fest that is being held in Texas in January. (I’ve heard good things about past festivals.) Anyway a teacher saw this and went to some parents who then went the the superintendent who uninvited her. Apparently, his response to one librarian in the district who wanted Hopkins there indicated that he hadn’t actually read the books in question but felt that the librarian he had spoken with had provided reasonable explanation. Here’s what annoys me about this (you know, other than the censorship). I recall, back in the day, a politician quoting the opening lines* of “Trainspotting” saying that this is what is wrong with today’s movies. The thing is, if you’ve actually seen the movie you know that that is the setup for the main character’s arc. He starts off a heroine addict with, well, no ambition and then, stuff happens and he changes. So, that quote lets you know where he starts. And the movie does a nice job of illustrating why you might not wish to be like these guys. But sure, if someone just read you that opening quote, you might not think there was anything good about the movie. And you’d be missing the point.
But, back to Hopkins the other reason (again, other than the censorship) it bugs is because wouldn’t it be really useful for, oh I don’t know, a discussion to occur at the Teen Lit Festival about how authors make choices about their books and about how teens actually feel about reading such things? And, sadly, the real losers are the teens who are now losing opportunities to meet with authors.

*”Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?”

H/T to Smart Bitches for the link.
Also, Melisa De La Cruz has a post about her reaction here. And Tera Lynn Childs has her eloquent response here.

She Was An Excellent Typist

So, here’s the thing - while I am a baby twit, the appeal of Twitter is not lost on me. And I know there are a bunch of famous and/or funny people who are fun to follow and certainly that’s an accomplishment, as everyone who has ever tried to blog or Facebook knows, coming up with interesting stuff is not as easy as it seems sometimes. But, while I hesitate to appear to denigrate Twitter and it’s value as a communication tool and social media and even sometimes art form, I think for many people it is not their standout fact.
So, reading this article in which Stephen Fry, you know movie and television star Stephen Fry, as actor and Tweeter, I was taken aback. I tried to ponder if someone - someone who would be reading a newspaper would recognize Stephen Fry only as a tweeter (and yes, I realize the second paragraph gives a better accounting of his accomplishments). But he was in Alice in Wonderland and Bones, so I sort of think if you had managed to miss the other ninety some things in his imdb bio, that might have helped.
And look I’m not saying that you haven’t been paying attention if you didn’t know who he was, I’m suggesting that if you didn’t, I’m not sure tweeter would have helped you. And that leads me to the use of tweeter as a descriptor, because while I agree that it is something that people do, and may do very well, and certainly it is done in the public eye, it just somehow seems to me not one of the first two things I would tell someone about Stephen Fry. But maybe that’s just cause I don’t follow him.

Lose Weight in Two Hours

No, I do not have plans to turn this into a weight loss blog. But you know all those ads for this magic piece of exercise equipment or fabulous weight loss pill that will make you go from this to this in just months or even weeks? And probably you had sort of noticed that people in the before pictures usually look unhappy and they look happy in the after. And often it looks like they maybe got better lighting, makeup and hairstyling in the after picture. And certainly anyone (like me, for example) whose watched enough makeover shows knows how the right clothes, hair and makeup can make you look better even without popping pills or exercising. (Not that I am against exercising. In theory, I hear it's very good for you.) But what if I could (well, not me personally, but I will hand you free of charge, the link) make you look better in two hours?
Well these people proved that it can be done, with some cosmetic stuff, some new clothes, some push ups (yeah, I know, exercise, but they did all of the above in two hours. And they got this.

H/T to Five Full Plates for the Link.

Day 6 and 7- the Final Disneyfication

Saturday, I had planned to get up early for an 8:30 workshop. Except I slept through my alarm, so arrived closer to nine with damp hair. (I snuck in quietly. I also got the recordings so I can listen to the rest when they arrive.) Workshops and signings. I grabbed lunch in the little cafe which was jammed. More workshops and signings. I had also made a spa appointment for late afternoon so I could be extra pretty for the awards ceremony. I moderated a workshop given by a fellow YARWA member, which was funny because I figured it was an easy job until I figured out this meant I would forever be on the recordings. (No terrible mishaps that I recall.)
Then I went to the last two signings, rushed to my hotel, boxed up my books and headed to the shipping line where I thought I was in luck because compared to lunch time (where it had been out the door, round the corner, so to speak) it was tiny. Just ten to twelve people. Well, the good news is I had a nice long time to chat with my linemates because, it took (and I totally wish I was kidding) an hour and a half. Seriously, I have made trips to the Columbia Heights post office that took less time and that post office never has more than one person working, and sometimes that worker works like she’s being judged no how few people she can process each hour. It was particularly unfortunate because they had two guys but one computer. The plan was for one to pack and one to type everything up and process the money. I ended up calling the spa (who of course had a four hour cancellation policy, but fortunately were kind enough to say that they would see what I had time for once I got there). The person in front of me heard my call and offered to let me go ahead, but I told her honestly it wasn’t her little package holding me back, it was the slooooooooow process.
Anyhoo, I did finally get my package mailed ($20 - totally worth not having to schlep an extra bag home on metro). And made it to the spa in time to at least get a manicure. (Which was awesome, and my manicurist used to live in Fairfax.) I then raced back to the hotel threw on my dress, pinned up my hair and raced right back to get in line for the awards dinner. Managed to find the cherries, including the lovely Christine Merrill.
During the awards ceremony, they had some interludes where they posted covers of former Golden Heart winners (the unpublished contest) that had become books. Including, that of Christine Merrill! I was then told the story of how when Chris was nominated the announcer goofed and left out her name. One cherry jumped onto a chair and yelled her name and then, of course, she was the lucky winner. (By the way, I love Christine’s historicals and her self-pubbed contemporary.)
There were some great award speeches and it was lovely to see people win! After we hung out in the lobby for a while and then went up to a suite where a larger crowd had gathered. Someone had left their RITA sitting on the table. I might have gently touched it.

Sunday I slept through two alarms and ended up not making the airport shuttle that the shuttle people suggested I catch, and instead getting the one an hour later. (Oops!) I did pre-check in. And I had a lovely chat with a person who it turns out was the announcer back when a certain Christine Merrill was nominated for her Golden Heart. She told me the story, saying that she thought she had finished the names and then heard a commotion and looked at the prompter again and realized her error and added Chris. And then opened the envelope and said, “Of course.” I also ran into one of my line buddies from the shipping line. Anyway, I did get to the airport in time (just) and almost got foiled by the fact that the Orlando airport has a complete lack of self check in kiosks and of course my bag, while reasonably sized is not a carry on. Fortunately the skycap line was not crazy (the desk line was out the door and around the corner.) And despite all the warnings about the security line, I found it not terrible. So, I made it safely home.