Wise Words from the Dowager Countess

I'm in love with Downton Abbey. If I could raid the show's wardrobe I'd wear gowns every day, all day, including to work and the supermarket. But my very favorite thing about Downton? See below.

Music for Haunting

Have you guys discovered Spotify yet? Because I just did. And I'm a little bit in love with it.

I'm always looking for ways to share the music I'm writing to. Spotify is a great way to share music, collaborate on playlists, and discover new tunes. And it's free: FREE, I TELL YOU!

Check out the Halloween mix I've been rocking today. I have to admit that I didn't put most of it together; I stumbled across it while reading Gwenyth Paltrow's latest GOOP post. Now I'm off to carve some pumpkins and watch a little Hocus Pocus.

Happy Halloween!

Put your money where your mouth is: would you pay to get into author events?

In an attempt to escape the pile of student papers waiting to be graded (they're staring at me judgmentally as I type), I stumbled upon an interesting book-related NY Times article. It's all about the fact that independent bookstores are starting to charge admission to author events. The article purports that indie bookstores are losing revenue to sites like Amazon as customers start to use their local bookseller as a glorified library: come in, put some titles on your iphone, then go home and get them cheaply on the web. Owners are worried that if they don't shift their business model and start thinking of new ways to bring in the cash, they'll be in (even more) serious trouble. I don't blame them.

And so, some bookstores are charging people to come to their many author events, and I can understand the logic. I went to a book launch the other night and enjoyed free wine and snacks, a series of readings by emerging authors, and a Q&A with an Australian writer. I didn't buy her book at the event and I felt pretty guilty about it. Why? Because one of my favorite bookstores just spent money to make sure I enjoyed myself and they got not a penny from me. Author events both large and small are a fun form of entertainment. I pay to go to live music gigs, outdoor concerts, comedy shows, etc., so I think that bookstores are perfectly within their rights to charge us.

A lot of bookstores are asking people to buy the featured book as a form of cover. I think this is the ideal solution, because it means that the store, the author, and the publisher are all winning out. But I don't think it's a practical solution, because a lot of people just can't afford to pay $32.00 to get into an event, even if it means walking away with a novel. Prices like that will turn away a lot of students, young professionals, single moms, pensioners, and tight asses the world over. It'll also discourage walk-ins who don't know the author but like the idea of sitting in for a read-along. Some would argue that won't make or break an event, but some of the artists I've come to love and loyally support are ones I discovered by accidentally walking in on one of their free events. As Anne Patchett points out, "those are your readers". Authors may not be able to afford scaring them away.

That said, I'd be happy to pay five or ten dollars for a few hours of books and conversation, especially if I'm not going to buy the featured book. It's a way to show my support for the event and for the indie that runs them. Don't get me wrong, I'd love author events to stay free. Wouldn't we all? But it irritates me to hear people bemoaning the fact that indie bookstores are a 'cultural center' and that it's bordering on blasphemous for them to slap a price tag on what are supposed to be community events. Well guess what? Bookstores are also a business. Sometimes, when we wax on about the book as cultural lifeboat, we forget about that.

I'm a big fan of having my cake and eating it, too (and making it myself so I can lick the bowl and spoon), but the reality here is pretty simple: if we don't find ways to support our local indies, then they are going to go away.

So what do you think? Would you pay admission to get into an author event?

Squirrel Love (aka Me + Manfriend)

You know that thing that encapsulates your relationship so perfectly that you feel like it was made about you?

This would be that.

OK, not exactly (close). But it makes me really happy. And want my own tail to wrap Manfriend up in. (And my own kangaroo pouch, too, while we're at it. But that's a subject for another post.)

Reverence, Respect & Mauling

In Anne Fadiman's book Ex Libris, a fabulous ode to book nerds the world over, she discusses the different ways in which we treat our books. Fadiman wisely surmises that "... just as there is more than one way to love a person, so there is more than one way to love a book". The way she sees it, there's 'courtly love' and 'carnal love'- and which the book lover practices can say more than one thing about them.

I found myself fascinated by her articulation of a thing I've thought about for years. It's interesting to me how people treat their books and how adamant they are about the right way to love literature. One of the authors at work- definitely a courtly lover- admitted to me that she hates writing in books, so much so that she didn't want to mark in a copy of her own book. I'd say that's an old-fashioned feeling- books are hallowed, keep them clean- but I've known many an older reader who beat their most loved books into submission. My grandfather lived by his books, and he wrote in his (with a pencil). Granted, he only put tiny tick marks next to paragraphs, a pretty minimalist legacy to leave behind. Reading past his tick marks is like becoming a detective: why did he mark that part? What was it that made him slow down and make note?

It seems to me like every reader has their own cringe-worthy feelings about a certain book marking vice. There are those who think writing in a book is a huge bookkeeping sin.

Then there are those people who want to cry when they see a book laid open and face down instead of using a book mark. I've never much cared about leaving books laid open, but a broken spine is a tough pill for me to swallow.

Then there are those people (I'll say right now that I DO NOT get you) that won't buy second-hand books because they are 'dirty'. You know what else is dirty? Money. Treadmills. Door knobs. Your car seat probably has a higher probability of giving you somebody's cooties. And isn't there something great about a book with a history? One that you know has been in someone else's hands, has passed through somebody else's life? Plus they are savers of trees. So get over yourself.

I'm a carnal lover of books (shocking, I know). I tend to devour them, underline them, sometimes (often) stain them. That, plus my frighteningly acute power of losing book marks (even while lying supine and still), means that dog-earring is sometimes a necessity. But ever since I watched Finding Forester, I've had conflicted feelings about dog-earring a page. I can understand why someone would find dog earring offensive... but isn't it better to see that a book has been consumed?

All of this nerdy musing leaves me wondering: can you tell the level of love a book has experienced by its condition? By looking at how someone treats their books, can you learn anything interesting about them that you wouldn't have known otherwise?

I went to my own bookshelf to investigate.

Most of my books are still State side, so I've got a limited sample size. That said, here are some of my findings from books I picked (somewhat) at random:

St Lucy's Home For Girls Raised by Wolves (loved it): browned, water wrinkled, and written in. Still has the price tag on from Politics & Prose (bought 12/7 of an unknown year), which makes my heart squeeze.

Confederates in the Attic (loved it): Holding up well, but a little dirty around the edges. It still smells like the bookstore at the Antietam battlefield. Makes me think of fall and of my Dad.

Down Under (loved it): Wow. I just found my ticket stub from my flight from Paris to Dubai in this book- one of the flights on my first long journey to Australia. I can tell I had this book while in 'Europe' mode- it is yellow, beaten, tired-looking and proud of it.

Watership Down (loved it): scratched and a bit weather beaten, but still in pretty good shape. I found a bus slip in it from grad school days. Spine still very much unbroken.

Mudbound (loved it): spine broken (damn), and bottom corner stained, probably because I loved it so much I loaned it to three people and keep on my desk (where I often eat [spill] breakfast and writing snacks).

Conclusions?

1. I have not made a habit of keeping books I've only sorta liked since coming to Australia.

2. I can tell which books are from which eras of my life. Dog eared and written in profusely= high school falling-in-love-with-literature era. Sun damaged from sitting on a windowsill/dented from holding up a bed= frantic, boisterous college era. Filled with memorabilia but otherwise treated with some semblance of respect= big girl era. All have been ravaged. Just in different ways.

3. My books are a time machine through which I can revisit the time when I bought them and read them. That's pretty nice.

4. The only books of mine that look pristine are the ones I haven't read yet.

Inconclusive findings, but interesting (to me, anyway). So what's your book handling philosophy?

How Cool Is This?

I found this awesome video clip about the making of a book cover. It seriously makes me want to hurry up and get published AND learn how to do web design. Mostly the getting published thing. As a side note, the book being promoted here falls under a sub-genre (that I just had to Google because I had no idea) called "steampunk". How did I not KNOW about this before?

Seriously?!

Being Crafty: Decoupage

These days, it feels like all my creativity is channeled towards a computer screen. Writing, reading, keeping in touch: it's all accomplished through my pretty little Macbook. So much so that I am developing intimate feelings for my laptop that no one- NO one- should feel towards a lump of wires and screen. Sometimes, I need to take a break and do something creative that doesn't depend on a plug-in battery. Thus my love of being crafty.

When I graduated from grad school last year, I decided I wanted to make something for my friend Lyndsey, who graduated alongside me. She was my rock, my drinking buddy, my us-against-the-world partner in crime: I wanted to make her something special. She is a list/I-need-to-write-down-my-thoughts-on-this-subject person, like me, so I decided to make her some personalized notebooks using decoupage.

This is one of the easiest, most versatile decorating methods in the world. It hearkens back to the days when you used to smear glue over your family's furniture with your chubby, unattended little fingers. There are about a million and one different "looks" you can achieve, but the method remains insanely easy no matter what look you're going for. You don't need many supplies to do it: just a surface to work on (this can be anything from a notebook cover to a tabletop, canvas, glass, a jewelry/shoebox... you name it, as long as it's smooth), some cut-outs that you want to put onto said surface and some decoupage glue. I've been told that you can use regular Elmer's glue in decoupage, but I've never been brave enough to try it as a substitute. Just make sure that whatever surface you're using in clean and dry.

First, I wanted to cover the front and back covers of three spiral-bound black notebooks with

different panels of sturdy wrapping paper. I measured out each panel and cut it to the size I wanted. Then I whipped out my handy sponge-on-a-stick tool (you can also use a paint brush or a Popsicle stick if you're feeling reckless), covered the notebook with a not-too-thick layer of glue, and smoothed the wrapping paper over it.

I rolled a pencil from one end of the now-papered surface to the other to try and scare out any air bubbles hiding underneath the fabric. Wrinkling is the trickiest part of decoupage: if you lay on the glue too thick or if you lay your fabric down sloppily, you end up with air bubbles that look like little warts in your work. No good.

Next, I cut out all the little bits and pieces I wanted to use in my design. That included some bits of decorative paper, cut-outs from the front of a greeting card, some black satin ribbonand some stickers. Keep in mind when choosing things to decoupage that they generally need to be flat and lightweight, or else you risk them falling off your medium over time. You can put things like coins or beads onto your medium, but you'll probably want to superglue them instead of using the decoupage glue. Also, try to stay away from super-fragile or transparent tissue paper and the like. I used a gauzy paper on Notebook #1 and found it difficult to work with (I ended up liking the result, but it was a close call). Take it from me, they rip and change color when you coat them with glue, and they end up getting wrinkled when saturated. Again, the warts. Photos, ticket stubs, stickers, stamps, some kinds of ribbon and sturdy paper work best for this. If you end up using markers, make sure they're permanent, or they'll run when you put glue over them. I find that Sharpies work best.

Once I'd cut out all the things I wanted to use, I coated their bottoms with glue (except for the stickers, which stick themselves) and laid them down carefully. I usually do the roll-with-a-pencil technique as I go to prevent air bubbles while drying. Once I had done that, I used a black Sharpie to write quotes on the front of the notebooks that I thought Lyndsey would find inspirational. Once you've stuck on everything you want, it's good to let it dry for half a day/overnight.

The last step in to coat the whole project in a thin layer of glue. Just take your brush or sponge tool and paint the glue over the collage as a varnish. I'll usually let this coat dry for a few hours and then apply another coat. This will make your collage all shiny-like and will protect it from peeling/future damage. This is some of what I ended up with:

Front of Notebook #1

Back of Notebook #1

Notebook #2, still drying. See the air bubbles underneath the light golden paper? I like to think they ended up looking like a stylistic choice, but they suck nonetheless.

I was really pleased with the way the notebooks turned out (though not pleased to have mysteriously misplaced half my pictures of them when they were finished: sorry).

I made Manfriend a decoupage collage of our trip around the States for his birthday. Working with photos and a canvas make this one of the dead easiest crafty projects in the world.

Everyone likes a hand-made gift, and I've found that these are cost-efficient and fun. This is the craft for "I'm not crafty" people. Go ahead, give it a try. The six-year-old (and the technologically over-baked adult) in you will thank you.

Conquering The Pile

Anyone who calls themselves a Reader will know The Pile. Go look at your bookshelf... what do you see? There are the books you've just finished, stuffed lovingly between the ones you read over and over again. If you're like me, you see books from your childhood; books you're saving for friends; monsters that were a big part of your college education that you can't bring yourself to get rid of. Looking good!

OK, but wait... look closely. What about all those books that you bought/were given many moons ago, but you just haven't gotten around to reading? Are those unread titles, neglected and gathering dust amongst your best-loved classics, burning their images into your retinas? Telling you (as does your partner/roommate/family member who is disgusted by your book-buying problem) that "you HAVE books in your bookshelf you haven't read. Why don't you just read one of those?"

You've been trying to avoid them, haven't you? That's why, for me, they're called The Pile. I've stacked these books (not small in number, I'm afraid) and let them teeter precariously in a conspicuous spot. That way, every time I walk out the door and make a bee-line for Avid or Borders, I am reminded that trees died so that I could use these books as window dressing. Heavy, space-stealing, hard-to-take-with-me-overseas-in-large-quantities window dressing. I can almost hear their tiny voices pleading, "Read us. You'll like us. Promise."

It's not that I don't want to read them. I bought them because I wanted to read them (or was given them by someone who I respect and adore). It's just that I don't want to read them right NOW. A book can be ruined if you read it at the wrong time, squandering my potential for ultimate enjoyment. There just never seems to be a great time to give them the attention they deserve. That's why I stopped making New Years resolutions like "I will read every book that I own that I haven't already read." It's a guaranteed failure, every time. Plus, I have a bookstore addiction... but that's a subject for another post.

Still, a girl's got to put her foot down sometime. Some of my now-favorite books have come from The Pile. My Dad gave me The Time Traveller's Wife one year, and it wasn't until maybe two years later that I actually cracked that sucker open. That sucker then proceeded to rock my world.

This is My List, currently harassing me from the corner of my desk:

Song For Night by Chris Abani

If On A Winter's Night A Traveller by Italo Calvino

Amsterdam by Ian McEwan

The Moviegoer by Percy

The Idea of Perfection by Kate Grenville

Accordion Crimes by Annie Proulx

Lie Down In Darkness by William Styron

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

Netherland by Joseph O'Neill

Time to get cracking on whittling my List. Who's featuring on yours?

You're Welcome.

So, this isn't new, but when my lovely friend showed it to me over the holidays, it was new to me. I needed a pick-me-up today. I'm thinking that maybe you could use one, too.

You're more than welcome.