January 12, 2007

Peppermint Love

I’ve just learned that my household has acquired Apples to Apples, which is one of the most enjoyable games I’ve ever played. Though I hate most games so my perspective is limited, and this one is bound to infuriate serious game-lovers, as it has no rules. Though I still lost at it when we played, but I lose at all games. It’s my constitution. And so that’s fun news, and more fun is that I’ve got a date with my husband this eve. We’re having company for dinner tomorrow night and I’m looking forward to that (as well as a chance to break out the game?). And so life continues lamely, but nicely.

I finished rereading Alice Munro’s Who Do You Think you Are? yesterday. What an incredible book. I reread the legendary Lives of Girls and Women last summer, and wasn’t as impressed as I’d wanted to be. I think that Munro was constrained by “A Novel”, and Who Do You Think…, while definitely connected, was obviously composed of short stories and she’s better at that. In fact, she is extraordinary at that. I know I’m certainly not the first one to say so. It’s just nice to be reminded. And I’m now reading Noah Richler’s This Is My Country, What’s Yours?”, which is cool because the only other book on CanLit I’ve ever read was published in 1972, and certainly a lot has happened since then.

Here for an article on Richler’s and a few other unusual Canadian atlases, and their lessons on Canadian identity. 50,000 copies of Andrea Levy’s brilliant Small Island have been distributed through parts of Britain “to encourage reading, and discussion”. (Wonderful connections between Levy’s novel and Kate Atkinson’s work have just dawned on me). Here for Literary Pop Idolatry. Type Books in the press (and the business press to boot).

My new teapot is full of peppermint love, and I shall get down to an afternoon of glorious work.

January 12, 2007

Excellent. My plan is working.

Instead of just getting depressed, I’m going to start pretending to be an evil mastermind with plans toward world domination. When I’m listening to the radio and hear, for example, that whole cities were destroyed by flash floods, I will rub my hands together and said, “Eg-cellent. My plan is working.” If drug crime has run rampant throughout my neighbourhood, I will cackle with glee and exclaim, “Just as I’d expected.” 22% of Canadians are unable to read? “Finally– the pieces are coming together.” IF a mugger knocks me down in the street and steals my ipod shuffle (ha ha): “Cackle cackle, Sir,” I will say to him. “You are fulfilling your mission well.” The American President is going to win his failing war by expansion into Syria and Iran? “Ah, Mr. Bush,” I will say. “You are playing right into my hands.”

I have no expectations that this coping mechanism will result in a better world, but evil trumps lugubrious any day, and I just don’t think petitions work.

January 10, 2007

Questioning

Why, you might ask, given my love/hate (and mostly hate) relationship with anthologies, am I setting out to read My Wedding Dress: True-Life Tales of Lace, Laughter, Tears and Tulle?? I’ve got high(er than usual) hopes for this anthology though. I’m thinking the concrete focus will keep the essays from being too too awful; the text is interspersed with wedding photos (and I’d look at anyone’s wedding pics, strangers and otherwise); I want to read about Michelle Landsberg’s wedding dress; and mostly because I’ll have an excuse to write about my own dress. Which doesn’t even come with a fabulous story, but I talk about my own wedding with as much relish as I look at strangers’ wedding photos. Anyway, we shall see. In addition, I think the book is very well designed.

January 10, 2007

Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson

I really didn’t think it was possible. Kate Atkinson’s second novel Human Croquet might just be better than her brilliant Behind the Scenes at the Museum. There really aren’t words to do Atkinson’s own words justice. From doorstep babies to death by mushrooms, intertextual delights to incest, doppelgangers and the disappeared. The bad guy gets his comeuppance. Everybody wins.

January 10, 2007

January Classic

I’m back to work at the library this week, which of course means that I go home after most shifts with books in my bag. I picked up The Portable Chekhov today. It’s definitely not the 13 volume Chekhov that Francine Prose recommended, but it’s a start. I’m looking forward to it. It’s my January Classic actually: I’ve decided to read one 19th century book per month this year, just to keep up my credentials.

January 9, 2007

Shift

I’m about midway through the second draft of my long project, and I’ve decided to shift from first person to third. I’m not convinced it’s the right decision, but I have to try it out and see. And so I am going through my story carefully, changing all the ‘I’s to ‘she’, and no doubt missing quite a few. It’s good though, because at this point in my work, it’s effective to go through the entire story carefully and see how its functioning as a whole. Changing the narration forces me to go through it carefully. I also have a feeling that it will make my narrator more likeable.

January 9, 2007

Yo!

The number one surprising development of my Christmas Holidays was that I became obsessed with Rocky Balboa. I certainly didn’t see it coming. (Though I’ve never seen one, I’ve always struggled with the Rocky films, for as a child I confused Rocky with Rambo and didn’t understand how one character could be so multi-dimensional.) But on the day before Christmas Eve, we caught Rocky on TV Ontario (commercial free! how novel) and though I was supposed to be reading a book while my husband watched it, I soon put the book down and was enthralled. I loved it. I don’t really know why. I’ve always had a thing for working class Italian men with big dreams, hearts of gold and problems expressing themselves, however. In accordance then, I think I am soon going to rent Saturday Night Fever.

January 9, 2007

Joy

Joy was our dinner tonight with Natalie Bay at Okonomi House, where we partook in okonomiyaki– a wonderful Nippon treat. Oishi desu! And now home, and since I worked all afternoon, now I get to have a bath and read Human Croquet— which is brilliant. And then tune in to CSI Miami, where somebody gets killed by a bookshelf! How exciting.

January 8, 2007

Only Connect

Lucky Lori Lansens, whose novel is the first Canadian book selected by Richard and Judy’s book club. Britpop enters its latest golden age. On le history of chapbooks.

I just finished reading the bizarre and wonderful Never Let Me Go, and the imaginary sounds of Judy Bridgewater are playing in my mind. Next up is Human Croquet by Kate Atkinson, who is always a treat.

The basement neighbours’ screaming match is entering its 49th hour. We’ve deciphered that she quit her job, he never shows her affection, he declared her unreliable and she is no longer allowed to eat his bread. Moreover she has outstanding debt on rental cars and owes him a ton of cigarettes. It’s difficult to keep track of because they move between inside and out, and so we have to keep moving between the vent and the window to get the details. It’s all getting a bit tiresome, however. We’re hoping they kill each other before bedtime.

In literary connexions, my mom met a man at a party yesterday who is uncle to Ms. Z. Smith’s own Laird.

January 7, 2007

OMG the Verve Pipe still toteley rawk my world

I do curse ye old Youtube for its tendency to devour large chunks of my day with its myriad offerings– clips from One Day at a Time, for example, or the video for “Colorblind” by Darius. (I refuse to link to these items. They will only contaminate your well-being). Where Youtube becomes absolutely fascinating, however, is when you read the viewers’ comments and responses. If this is zeitgeist I am frightened, but I am also sort of amused. There is something precious about nostalgic fourteen year olds.

My favourite comments ever include one to a Goo Goo Dolls song which said, “Man, what an awesome song. Whatever happened to music? They don’t make stuff like this anymore”. I love this response to Robin Beck’s “The First Time”: “I’m in luv wiv da 80’s (even though born in 1992), its such a cool era! This song tops it all!” I adore the people who comment proclaiming their love for Celine Dion, and then have to comment back a few minutes later just to clarify: “I’m not a lesbian btw”. Which is probably safe, as accusations of gayness are rampant among commenters. And then the nerve of whoever dared to assert that “NKOTB had an “IT” factor that Take That could never touch.” Power to the people. Really.