Women and Horror (note it’s spelled HORROR)

So last month I attended HorrorHound, and for those with keen eyes you may have noticed I haven’t talked about it yet. This isn’t because I didn’t have fun. I had a fabulous time and ran around like the big geek I am, geeking out with other geeks. I also got a chance to talk to some publishers, podcasts, authors, etc and get a lot of networking advice and encouragement, which I very much appreciate. Seriously, these things are a blast. You come across some of the best people and it’s so much fun to kick around ideas, opinions, and experiences with everyone. And the people watching! Oh, the people watching! And since I also do costume design and construction, it was a chance for me to (finally) wear out some of my own creations (I was hoping to get a few commissions out of it…so far that was a wash, but at least I tried.)

So why haven’t I talked about it? Because there was one little incident that blew my mind so hard, that just sent my sensibilities into the stratosphere, that I’ve been trying to let it go before I say anything. And I can’t. So what you’ll get instead (for the moment anyway) is something of a rant and something of a dissection of a comment, because this incident really got me thinking.

To put said incident in perspective, a few words on me and my sensibilities. I’ve said it before, but in social situations I’m shy. The other secret reason I go to these things is that it forces me to interact with all sorts of people and pushes me past my comfort zone in the hopes that one day I won’t feel like crawling up a wall while mingling. So while I will be out and around laughing and having fun, part of me is usually quietly freaking out. I also am many things, and I’ll admit to being mildly flirtatious (again, if I am comfortable. this takes a lot.), but I’m also the most oblivious human woman on the planet when it comes to that sort of thing. Especially if I’ve got a project on the brain or am intent on networking or a task, I seriously will not understand if someone is into me. My brain doesn’t process that if the idea machine is going off, so a person either has to be really obvious or patient.

To balance out this aspect of my personality, I am probably one of the hardest women to offend on planet earth. I try to subdue this side quite a bit, as apparently this is surprising to most people who are more easily offended. But seriously, if you get to know me and I’m comfortable with you, at some point what comes out of my mouth will sound like a Kevin Smith movie. It’s just gonna happen.  I try to be respectful, but you’re not going to obliterate that part of me.  I’m also very relaxed when it comes down to how things are portrayed (this’ll come into play in a minute) with a few exceptions. I get that there’s a lot of testosterone running around at these things and in the genre in general. That’s cool. I’m not totally adverse to gore and violence (again, it comes with the genre) though I think it’s easier for me to read than to watch, oddly enough. I do have my personal limits and I’m pretty strong on where they stand. But if people want to watch movies with pretty women running around in short skirts and blood spattering across the scene, I mean whatever. (If this gives you a clue, I willingly chose to see The Punisher over whatever romantic comedy it was playing against the weekend it opened.) Language doesn’t bug me, a lot of things don’t bug me.

So let’s talk about what bugged me.

So I was talking to various publishing tables to find out what they’re looking for, what sort of thing they’ve put out in the past year. I met with a lot of great people – Post Mortem Press and Samhain were really fun to chat with, and the guys at Burning Bulb were also really accommodating. I actually can’t remember who I had the following conversation with (so that helps them retain anonymity), but I know for a fact it wasn’t any of them. So I’m talking to this publisher about a concept I’m slowly developing for a novel, and without going into details I really want to set it at various horror cons and sort of explore different relationships and power struggles via gnarly creatures as semi-metaphor, but basically it’s an excuse to do my own take on Lovecraft. And the protagonist is a woman (I’ve written men, I’m not uncomfortable with that, but I really want the protagonist to stay a woman in this one. Especially now.) and in reply to that I get this summation…To be fair, I am paraphrasing and summarizing. Maybe I even misheard. I really hope that’s the case, but since the person was standing right in front of me, I doubt it.

So I’m giving my lose outline of the story I have in my head and talking about the protagonist and the response was that generally women only go to horror cons to suck up to celebrities and/or get laid.

And what boggled my mind is he stood there expecting me to agree with him. I have no idea if he lumped me into this generalization (I mean I am a woman, last time I checked) or I was supposed to laugh and start ragging on women around us…Dude, I’m not going to do either. Neither is cool. I think I managed something like “Whatever, I’m gonna go talk to someone else…” and got the hell out of there before I lost it. Some friends that were around overheard the end of that conversation and immediately swept me away to a table Far, Far Away. While I have a long fuse, those I’ve relayed this to are amazed they didn’t have to post bail for me or something.

I mean really? REALLY?!

That kind of generalization is so offensive to me on so many levels. And it also got me thinking on the genre in general. So strap yourself in, gentle readers, because we’re goin’ deep.

First off, I really don’t care what people do in their social time. If you’re there and that’s the kind of fun you want to have, as long as you aren’t doing it on the table in front of me where I’m trying to eat or something, cool, enjoy yourselves, use protection. But I’m pretty sure women don’t JUST go to these things to get their freak on and have a story to tell. That’s like saying I go to Wal-Mart for a soul-wrenching religious experience instead of needing allergy medicine and socks or something.

- So because I’m a woman I don’t count as much as a male fan/performer/writer, since I obviously don’t know anything about the horror genre and am just at a place for carnal and emotional validation? Or – I know – maybe I just let my dude friends drag me there so I could get out of the house and have something to do, and look at the pretty crafts on some of the tables…while I’m not desperately searching for carnal and emotional validation?

- So because I’m a woman my opinion (and therefore my money) doesn’t count as much?

- So because I’m a woman, obviously nothing in the horror genre is meant for me?

- And since I’m a performer and a woman, what – my function in the horror genre is to take my clothes off and get cut up?

- Since I’m a writer and a woman do my ideas/portrayals not count as much in this genre?

Excuse me if you’re sensitive to language, but…

BULL SHIT

NO NO NO and NO AGAIN and NO SOME FREAKIN’ MORE

Look, I’m not naive. I am a woman and I get that sometimes we put people on a pedestal, we emotionalize stuff, we do the whole animus projection thing. But look around at one of these things and you’ll see just as many guys going ga-ga or nuts while meeting the exact same people and looking for very similar experiences, whether it be an autograph, a photo, a cool ten-second story of saying they met someone, or some sort of validation, whatever. This is called being a fan and liking stuff. So why does that suddenly become derogatory when it’s pertained to women?

This is actually part of why I want to write the novel…I want to mesh up fan/celebrity interactions with prey/predator  interactions and blend it to the point where you don’t know who has the real advantage or not. There is a trove of emotional stuff to work with here and do some great psychological things with. But the gender distinction now kind of blew my mind. I don’t hate admitting I’m a fan of certain movies…I do think we’re at a day and age where fan tends to equal geek which (in popular stereotyped culture) equal people spending all their money on figurines and not holding down a job and aren’t able to get a date, and I’m finding that not only is that derogatory but it’s stupid. Can we please come up with something more interesting? Everyone’s passionate about something. It’s okay to be a geek. But when you apply that to a woman…then you label her a fangirl…

I HATE that word. I HATE IT. At the very best you’re not saying that she’s a female fan…you’re implying that she has no social skills and can only relate to the outside world through her one love affair which is her fandom. At the very worst you’re calling her a really specialized groupie.

I am none of those things, thanks. I hold down a few jobs, I pay my bills, I am constantly striving to carve out a place for myself in the world. I’m single and sure, if someone’s interested in me that’s a whole other ball game but I would never go anywhere thinking that that’s what I should be after or that’s what’s gonna happen.  If someone’s interested in me anywhere (if they can get past the wall of obliviousness) it would be the same situation no matter who they are - if I like you back, let’s hang out or talk, if not, my apologies but no thanks. Yeah, I know a lot about certain movies/music styles/writing styles/etc and while I get can be passionate in my defense and love for them, it shouldn’t devalue who I am as a person. And to be fair there are a lot of people at these sorts of cons who are completely cool and will talk to you like you are a human being, including fans, actors, writers, musicians et al.

But that comment about women at that con brings to mind the thing that still kind of riles me about the horror genre. I get its testosterone-driven because that’s who’s mainly paying for those sorts of movies, but come on…

Just because I am a woman who likes the horror genre does not make me a slut or an innocent naive whatever trying to fill up an emotional black hole. My place in the genre is not limited to sex object, chainsaw fodder, or a combination of the two. I am a capable, creative person with a lot to bring to the table idea-wise.

While I go to talk to people, get ideas, geek out a little, and screen movies, it’s all because I love the horror genre. I love the freedom that it offers that you can’t really get when doing something set in the ‘real world’ or something entirely literary. I like the potential for visceral reactions, I love that it lets me push the boundaries. I like writing it, I like reading it, I like watching it, I love designing and building monsters and creatures…haven’t gotten to act in it yet but I’m totally open to it. I stinkin’ love this genre. And it hurts and irritates me to be generalized and swept away by that dumb of a blanket statement because I have certain body parts.

There are some things that I don’t like, namely torture porn or gore just for gore’s sake. I’m not averse to blood and guts, but I do think that it’s become less of a tool for commentary and more of a marketing tool. Oh sure, yeah, you can say you’re pushing the limits but it’s a convenient way to entice people to pay to see it, isn’t it?  You will also never convince me to sit there and watch sexual violence as a plot point for these movies, either (or really any movie.) Call it exploring dark topics, call it empowering because the woman in question seeks out revenge all you want…eeeh, it kind of borders on exploitation when the first half of the movie/book is in your face explicit footage of her victimization and the rest is random gore in the name of revenge. If you really want to make me believe that you care about her journey, then don’t show her rape/torture/whatever at all…or do it briefly in flashbacks and never up close. Focus the whole movie on her descent into obsession and mania with her thirst for making her attackers pay. I know a lot of people feel like this is putting the topic up for discussion by writing/doing movies like this. Here’s my issue with that whole thing: As women we have to work really hard not to be victims anyway. No matter how strong or empowered you are you eventually come to the realization that you do have to be careful in your life.  This kind of victimization is a topic that is still pretty taboo in most circles, otherwise we wouldn’t have such a large epidemic of silent victims.  And instead of making it an insightful point of discussion, by making it so extreme you’ve  just reassured everyone that it is a horrific topic and made it that much harder to talk about. And what is this showing young adults? I’m not saying horror movies should be educational, but let’s face it: there are a lot of caricatures used in these movies and people are judgemental. So you end up getting the sort of reaction that ranges from “thank god that’s not me” to “well, maybe she deserved it, she shouldn’t have been so stupid.” Neither are good reactions for people to have about the topic matter, because they’re derisive and dismissive. In short, they’re just not helping.

With violence I expect a story to go with the gore – think the Sonja Blue book series (though this is a hard read for me and it does have elements of victimization in it). Yeah, it’s really graphic, but there is a lot of emotional stuff to go with the sensationalism. There is an actual story.  In a movie I want the gore to enhance the story – not to BE the story.  I want something sick and twisted that’s going to give me pause about going around in my daily life.  I want a really revved version of The Twilight Zone (there was a reason that show is still remembered so well. It did its job and treated its viewers with respect.)  I want to wonder what if…what if something like that is possible? What if that could happen to me?  I want you to really make me think – I don’t want to be scared that someone could kill me with a spatula – I want to worry that the spatula will destroy the fabric of reality and allow demons to come through and steal the very fabric of my humanity every time I bake a cake. Keep that in mind – steal my humanity, not just  rip my clothes off. I want to wonder about the people I pass on the street every day. I want you to turn me into a paranoid mess, not just toss a gallon of blood across the screen.

And if you can’t do that, then I at least want to entertained. I’m a big fan of horror comedy, psychological thrillers, and the just plain weird. I absolutely love Lovecraft – the thought that there might be something else lurking behind the normal waiting to tear everything that makes the world what we know apart…that’s freakin’ awesome. I am morbidly amused by stories with secret cults, secret outsider groups of people who are raising hell, and giant monsters that shouldn’t exist in reality. I love vampires, ghosts are fun, dream worlds are great, haunted houses rule. But no matter what my tastes are, there is a simple rule I like to stick to:  If you’re going to ground a story in reality, do it. If you’re going to unground it, do it. But make it about the story. Everything else – the blood, the effects – is icing.  Sure, put it in your story – but can you please try to even things out with the actual story and maybe not make every female character a big ol’ target?

I don’t mind some raciness and sex -  I really don’t care if there are semi-naked people on the screen. I’m a straight chick, but I get that this genre is very testosterone-driven and that’s what sells. It’s cool, I’m not going to cringe or complain every time I see a pretty woman run around in heels and a short skirt.  Let’s face it, in this genre you can’t swing a machete without seeing some boobs. And I get that. But I also feel it’s woefully one-sided. Where are all the hot guys losing their clothes for us female fans to appreciate?! Huh?? When do I get a movie with a hot guy being chased by a killer and all his clothes get strategically torn off while he’s running through a sprinkler?!

I get the allure and “danger” that raciness adds  (Though if I’m going to have to sit through boobage,  I prefer it to make sense in the context of the storyline, thanks. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure that’s called porn.)  But here is where I get irritable: somehow EVERY woman in this genre is becoming more and more naked and more and more supermodelish. And the roles that are designed are either slut, virgin, mom, or some variation of the three and they are either  1. going through hell and going crazy 2. being victimized 3. some sort of combo of the two 4. supposedly going on the offensive but they end up crazy and victimized anyway 5. are some sort of bad-ass slayer, vampire, priestess, whatever as long as they’re really, really hot. And even then they’re probably going to get naked and killed, though in this case there may be implied lesbianism just for the hell of it or in the form of mind control. I’ve read and seen more of these plots than I want to, and what’s frustrating is that they have the capacity to be really good ideas…and then they turn into that.

I’m sorry, but not everything that takes place in your story is a source of eroticism. It just isn’t. It is one thing to show a woman who has been through hell breaking down while changing her clothes – this happens, she can have a good cry and still be  semi-naked. That’s acceptable to me.  But when the camera shot zooms in on her upper body even though I’m pretty sure that tears come out of her eyes, that’s when I feel things get ridiculous. Yes,  I get you may want to make use of your unrated version, but here’s the thing: you would get more people in the seats if you can get your women audience to identify with that female character. And they’re not going to identify with her by looking at her nipples. Think of it – appeal to both genders and you get more people paying to watch or read your story.   At the end of the day I would like this genre to not totally be reduced to a teenage male version of sexuality and violence. That may be a big demographic, but do we really want to be promoting that this is okay and acceptable to said demographic? If the point of horror is to scare people, can we please actually get back to that?

I also get the allure of a creature killing people while making love (the people making love, not the creature…I’m not sure even an evil creature could be that good at multi-tasking.). But somewhere along the line it’s gotten so that those scenes are again a showcase of female assets and not a legitimately uncomfortable scene that should make you wonder if your most private moments are really private and safe or not.

I also want more female antagonists. This does not include really hot vampiresses that strut around in vinyl and when they are killed their death throes look like an orgasm. I mean antagonists, as in girls that would give you nightmares because they will not have any mercy on your body or soul. Why can’t we have someone like Freddy or Jason be a woman? What happened to all the normal-looking  quiet librarians who are actually cannibals because they believe that eating their dates means the guys will be a part of themselves forever and ever and that’s true love? I’m just tossing it out there, and I know I’m generalizing, but women can be pretty crazy.  We naturally go for the jugular. Think of every mother that defends her kids no matter what.  Think of every woman who goes apeshit over her dream being kicked over.  Think of every ticked off chick you’ve ever known on a hormonal bad day – you know at some point you want to run from a few of them. Now give them a chainsaw. Or claws. Or an evil artifact. Or something. Why do the dudes get the better antagonist parts and women get to be sex objects, victims, or crazies who end up pathetic or dead at the end of the movie? Chicks can be evil masterminds too, yo! For every over-the-top plotline I’ve seen or read, I can almost guarantee you that I could match that or go a few steps beyond. Trust me, women are far from pansies.

In a genre that gives you so much wiggle room…well, I have high expectations because there is so much wiggle room. That’s why I hold what I watch and read to high standards – because in a genre where you CAN be that imaginative, there’s no excuse for using the same gimmicks over and over again. I’ve said over and over that I expect anything I read or watch to make me feel. You could argue that anything in this genre will do that, especially if it’s over-the-top. The thing is I want to feel, not just feel gross. There has to be something that will make you want to really wonder if you’re safe or not long after reading or watching. If all you can remember is the effects, then that’s nowhere near good enough for me.

I personally love exploring what makes characters tick. I think that’s why gore movies don’t always satisfy me…I don’t really care if Leatherface wants to torture and cut up people for his family to eat…I want to know why. (Yes I know there’s a prequel that’s supposed to explain this.  It doesn’t explain nearly enough for me. There’s barely a story there, it’s all effects.) It’s not the how that’s always the freaky part, but the why. The story shouldn’t lose precedence over sensationalism – if anything they should both find a middle line and work together.

I want to re-affirm that I love this genre. There are a lot of movies that I absolutely love or feel do a really good job at what they’ve set out to do: (these aren’t all and are off the top of my head)  Repo, Evil Dead2,  The Shining, 30 Days of Night, The Friday the 13th series (well parts of it), Lost Boys, Blair Witch, Emerging Past, the Hammer Films,  The Orphanage, etc…Ghostbusters, Gremlins, and other dark comedy/horror hybrids are great.

I also love schlocky, dumb movies. I am a sucker for B-Z grade movies that are just ridiculous. This is where I loosen up on my standards, because if you are so bold as to be really ridiculous, well, then I’m going to watch it if only for comedic value.  Like I said, anything with giant killer mutants is okay with me. Or sentient plants, those are fun too. Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead People is a guilty pleasure of mine. Seriously, it’s not that I’m trying to have taste, because I will fully admit that I don’t have it.

And I have a lot of others that I respect even if they disturb me (The Exorcist, Paranormal Activity, etc). Because that’s what the genre is supposed to do! I want to think and be genuinely freaked out, not be so grossed out I can’t function. I get stretching the boundaries, I get once upon a time splatter and gore films were a way to carve out a niche that didn’t yet exist. I will even go so far to say that even though I don’t personally care for the early Wes Craven stuff and things like Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original one. forget everything else), they do accomplish their goals.

Books that I adore include: The Sonja Blue series,  a lot of various things by Lovecraft, N by Stephen King (and a lot of his other short stories), The Haunting of Hill House, Dracula, Lord of the Dead, World War Z…these are good solid titles.

But that’s just my opinion. Because what do I really know? I’m just a girl.

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The Storytellers in My Life

I’ve said before that I’m very lucky to have a vast (and somewhat warped) imagination. Although I think some bits of that is inherent to an individual, in my case I can attribute a lot of it to circumstances when I was growing up.

My folks are both imaginative individuals in different ways. My dad can spin a yarn off the top of his head and make it sound entirely believable – something I can roll my eyes at or appreciate now, but growing up these stories were so likely to my impressionable mind I didn’t quite get that he was putting me on. So I completely believed when he said we were going to dig a crater in the backyard, throw a rock down in it, say it was a meteor, and charge admission – it sounded way cooler than a lemonade stand! I was incredibly disappointed when my mom broke it to me that he wasn’t serious (this was always her job for some reason). My mom was great at keeping me entertained, since like so many kids I had the habit of exploring and getting into things when I was bored (which was fine at home but not so much at public outings). My number one companion as a little girl was a stuffed dog puppet that followed me everywhere. Not only was mom adept at bringing him to life physically, but she had a flair for inventing stories about him when I was bored. An adept trouble maker that got out whenever I was asleep, was at school, or wasn’t around to watch over him,  I would hear all about how he broke into my school to see what it was all about, how he took bongo lessons so he could play people’s heads like drums, and ran up and down the neighborhood streets decorating them for Halloween at Christmastime. Of course everything was always put back to right by time I woke up/got home/etc. I’d like to think I’ve developed my own knack for this kind of on-the-spot storytelling, but it took many, many years to know when to be zany and when to pull back.

And The Sibling is equally gifted with a story. Growing up we had a high old time playing dolls and Barbies and probably came up with plot twists that Mattel or Disney never thought up. For some reason, at some point, we decided that a lot of our Barbies and character dolls had evil twins – so now we had twice the cast of characters to work with, and every time we thought we knew what was going on…say two dolls were going to get married… oh no! He’s really marrying her evil twin! But double oh no! It’s his evil twin, too! And oh mah gawd, two evil characters are getting married and they’ll form an evil alliance and think up even MORE trouble! It’s a shocker that I’m not working for Barbie, I tell you.

The most amazing part of this is our parents didn’t even know about this until we were sending all of these dolls off to our younger cousins years later and started cracking each other up over these plotlines as we were packing them away. “So I’m packing this one up…OH WAIT IT’S HIS EVIL TWIN!!!” And our parents began to wonder yet again what type of creatures they’d been housing under their roof for so many years.

Of course Reading Rainbow and shows like it  (CBS Storybreak and a few others came close but weren’t as good) also kept me on the edge of my seat. There’s one thing to read a book and there’s another to have it read to you, especially by someone who knows what they’re doing. It doesn’t matter if it’s on TV. I think there’s something to be said for keeping the oral tradition alive, and of course the educational aspects weaved in with this on the show made it pure genius. For a long, long time I don’t think I ever missed an episode and again I found myself memorizing the stories and trying to recreate them for my friends or with my dolls. Believe me, my My Little Ponies had the most literary adventures on the block and the kids next door and you haven’t lived until you and a group of seven-year-olds try to act out half of those stories. And at least when I was in grade school (this was soon after fire was discovered, but before the bronze age) we always had to take turns reading the assigned stories and chapters out loud in reading class. Apparently even then I thought I had to add flair to everything, because I remember at one point in first or second grade when we were reading some story about beavers I felt the need to make sound effects after every sentence (there’s no way to put it into type but kind of like cutesy chewing sound effects, like a beaver gnawing at a tree.) Thankfully this went over well with both the teacher and the class. Amazingly it never occurred to me to read it any other way.

Off and on I took to writing little stories – some for school, some at home because I had incredible, genius ideas (that were suspiciously like whatever movie/story/whatever I’d just seen or read) and had to get them out because I was that amazing! I’ve kept a few and I may have to scan and/or transcribe some up here – they’re fabulous. I wish I’d kept more, but I junked a lot in a fit of embarrassment at the scribbled illustrations and half-thought-out plots (I found my teen angst journals at the same time and unfortunately trashed those, too…the bits that I have left caused me to laugh like a lunatic when I finally read them again for the first time in years). But those that are left crack me up so hard I can’t take it. For the teachers that received some of those stories as assignments…I don’t think they could take it, either, but that’s not really the same thing.

I grew up in a small southern Illinois town until my pre-teens and we often got a lot of local St. Louis-access shows by default. One of my favorites that could make me give up Saturday morning cartoon alternatives was Gator Tales. It was really simple – a guy (I forget his name) that stood next to a puppet stage or table and a gator puppet that interacted with him as he told the week’s story. I can’t remember a lot of them except for Nasty Jack (his version of the jack-o-lantern story), but I remember being transfixed and memorized every story to try to tell my friends (with mixed results. Hey, I was six and it was a thirty minute program! And even at that age I was determined to put my spin on things.) I actually got to meet the guy who did the show at some kind of social function and it was like being in the presence of a rock star. I didn’t know what to do with myself and was so shy I think I just stared up at him (and was disappointed he didn’t bring the gator puppet.) But to hear him tell Ananzi stories a few feet in front of me was total, utter magic.

I also had the lucky chance to watch Jim Henson’s The Storyteller series actually air on television. Now this thing scared the bejesus out of me as a kid, but it was a scare that I kept coming back to (It’s amazing that as a kid I watched the True Bride episode and could only be terrorized by the trolls and now I watch it and gravitate to Sean Bean. What a difference a few years make.).  As a teen I found a copy of all the stories in print form (and of course memorized them and revamped them) and finally got my own copy of the shows on dvd. This series is the closest thing to the magic described in the Old Stories I’ve ever seen. It is IT. For me, this is the vibe that faerie and folk tales are supposed to have. I love it and I kind of want to jump in my TV set and live there every time I watch the episodes. (Now I’d probably run up to the trolls and be all ‘TROLLS!! I LURV YOU TROLLS YOU ARE SO COOL, WAY TO BE ANTAGONISTS!!!’). In an ironic twist I started showing these to some of my young relatives a couple of years ago and saw many of the same emotions flitting over their small faces – terror and sheer curiosity.

Years later I was living in southern Indiana and had become a total library junkie. There wasn’t much to do, the Internet still had yet to become the Internet, and I had yet to get my license. And truth be told, I was a geek and wanted to know everything about everything (some things haven’t changed.) While there are so many compliments I could pay that library (and I will in a future post), Mr. Holden directed that place like a tightly run ship. I can’t remember if he was the one that brought in the children authors to lecture, but I do remember during his time that there were mini orchestra concerts, lectures on different topics – all sorts of activities. He allowed graphic novels on the shelves and found ways to encourage everyone. And because I was there so much he always said hi to me, always had encouragement and a kind word, which was so helpful because I often felt entirely disconnected from the ‘cool’ crowd in my age bracket – you know, the group that defines how you’re supposed to be at any given age.  He encouraged me to start building my own puppets and try my own thing. And he was also an incredible public speaker and storyteller.  During a Martin Luther King’s day event he did parts of Dr. King’s speeches and I still get the chills thinking about it. He sucked you in with his words, kept you dangling with his pauses, led you with every syllable.

When I was a senior in high school we were having a program where english classes would listen to a professional storyteller, sponsored by the library or something – somehow Mr. Holden was involved. We were all jammed into the high school library and waited…and waited…and waited. Coincidentally my english class had just gotten done with a public speaking assignment where we had to read a children’s book to our peers. (It was like I’d been preparing all my life for that assignment! )

I did Froggy Gets Dressed, obtained for me by my mom who was teaching pre-school at the time. I want to say I probably ripped off my performance somewhat from a version I had heard, but no doubt I added my own nuances – I’ve also loved doing voices and sound effects from a young age. You can imagine how much fun I could be at a family dinner. Anyway, my schtick was enough to crack up my classmates and sitting there in the library, staring at the empty microphone was enough to get those around me murmuring and thinking. And elbowing me. “Hey, if we’re gonna wait why don’t you get up there and do Froggy?!” some people around me asked. Now I’d survived how many years of public school and I knew that this could easily be a setup: let’s sucker the geeky girl into stepping behind a microphone! I’d done a lot of background roles in school shows and that sort of thing, but I had no illusions as to my lack of popular standing. I was likeable, but not LIKEABLE, and I definitely was not a masochist. And plus we were supposed to be there for class and my teacher was right there!

I had yet to truly embrace that while I am basically a kind, loving, and good person with a quiet side, I am also a royal ham and an instigator.

Finally my teacher (Bless you Mrs. Rueger!) heard all the muttering and…totally went along with it. This was new to me – a teacher encouraging off the cuff behavior!? Whaaaa?!

And that was how I found myself yanked up and shoved behind a microphone. Now I should say that while I’m socially shy, public speaking doesn’t bug me and never has. I may get jittery but as long as I have something to work with, I love it. With a microphone to shield me I can do whatever the hell I want and know that I don’t have to deal with the audience one on one – bring it on! By that point I’d been on a stage and I’d done a lot of singing gigs around town for women’s groups, library groups, church services, lodge meetings, town events, etc. It wasn’t the microphone that freaked me out. It was that the audience was the same group of people who could potentially annihilate me in an hour when we got out to the hall. And the little fact that for the project I had the book in my hands – sure, I had the text memorized (it was required), but during the actual presentation  I had the book in my hot little hands. Never underestimate the ability for illustrations to give you a safety net.

Now I had no book.

But I started anyway. Slowly, shakily, until I began to gather some steam. For those who are unaware of this literary masterpiece, Froggy Gets Dressed is the story of Froggy, who has to put on ten thousand layers so he can go out and play in the snow (I won’t spoil the plot-twist ending for you.) And for each clothing item there was a sound effect that you could vocalize and have a high old time with, along with providing killer voices for Froggy and his mom!  And since I had no book, now I could add goofy motions! (And you wonder why I wasn’t the girl everyone wanted to be around in high school!) About halfway in I suddenly realized I had no idea what came next. My mind blanked. And I looked out and also realized that the audience was with me. This group of high school seniors were acting like little kids (ring-led by some kind souls in my class who were shouting out the sound effects with me and having a high old time).

So I improvised. I don’t even remember what the hell I had Froggy wearing – swim fins, a fur coat, a hula skirt, god only knows what…I think I eventually got back to winter wear. I may have had him undress and re-dress a few times if I forgot an item. But it was a riot. I was having a good time, people were amused, and this group of holier-than-thou teens were cheering by time I turned around to vacate the microphone…

…and turned smack into the guy who was supposed to be the main event and had shown up late.  And Mr. Holden the library deity. Now I wouldn’t think anything of it, but at the time I was mortified – ohmygosh! Mr. Holden caught me usurping his program! He would tell my parents! He’d ban me from the library! He…was…cracking up along with everyone else!? Really, the only person that didn’t looked amused was the actual storyteller. I can’t remember what story he actually told – some rural Americana-type story. He wasn’t bad, but it was more of a performance than audience interacting. And for me, the difference between storytelling and someone getting up and doing a one-person show is that the audience is a part of the world. They’re drawn in and included in the tale in some way.

It was an utter shock to my system when a bunch of my peers admitted later that I’d totally creamed the guy with what I had done. That hadn’t been my intention at all – I was just out to have fun and amuse everyone. And really, that’s what I still do with my ideas, whether it’s something I’m writing or telling off-the-cuff to amuse a friend or the child of one of my friends. I like taking people with me when I have an idea. Writing and storytelling are all well and good – sure, a writer writes for themselves…kind of. But a real story doesn’t fully exist until there’s someone else to hear it and feel the life and magic in the tale.

And that’s something I never hope to lose. Because sure my ideas are a little zany and offbeat at times, but I want people to think about them and feel them with me. I want to give others the spark that I was so lucky to have growing up. Otherwise idea-land is a fun place to play, but it can get  stale and lonely with only one person living there.

Slave to the (knitting) needle

I try to save myself from this every year. I can usually make it through most of the rest of the year….winter is hard, but the holidays are the hardest. Everything is so cozy and happy, but I’m usually busy with performance obligations so I have to keep my head clear. And spending money on guilty pleasures isn’t something I should be giving into this time of year, either.

But it’s so hard to ignore the craving. I told myself I wasn’t going back to this place, no matter how good it might make me feel. I get that every day it’s a battle and a process. I’ve tried so hard to deny myself and get back to being a whole human being, to not be driven by one, blinding obsession.

But all I want to do is surround myself with one thing and one thing only:

Yarn.

I want it more than anything. Sure, I have enough, but there’s sooo many choices out there. Bamboo, Alpaca, Merino, eyelash….the choices that are so soft and sleek and colorful that it could bring a grown woman to her knees (and some men, too.) I want to buy bags of it, stab it with long sticks, and run my fingers through it over and over until I absolutely have to work with it.

That’s right. My name is Selah Janel, and I am a knitter.

Sigh. Sure, you may think it’s an innocent hobby, but dude, once you start you will get your soul sucked away. If you are one of those people who can just be content to knit scarves or the occasional holiday present, then I applaud you. You are amazing and your moral center in incredible.

I tell myself every year that I don’t have time to make presents for everybody and I sure don’t need to add challenges for myself that I’m never going to finish. Ditto to the projects that I know will drive me out of my mind (This would be most sweaters. The sizing challenge on sweaters makes me want to kill myself, though I can usually get them to turn out decent…though not without some destruction to my soul and emotional center first.).

I have to lock away any extra money before going into a craft store, especially the crafting supercenter that is too close to where I live. Not only does it have aisles and aisles of yarn, but aisles and aisles of fabric…oh it’s bad. It’s a bad, bad den of temptation. And I want to Be At One With Everything In It. I want to run down the aisles and grab EVERYTHING, because only I can make everything in that store achieve its true purpose!!!

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Crafting addiction.

It starts out innocently enough: one or two hats for myself since those I have are getting ragged. Or maybe a few lacy scarves for extra presents. Maybe a couple small clutch bags. Some ornaments. A plushie. And somehow it morphs into all of the above, a sweater, a blanket, a cozy for my car, and life-size replicas of all my friends with embroidered features.

Okay, maybe it isn’t THAT bad, but there are days I wonder about myself.

I’ve stopped checking out random knitting books and hitting up blogs. I now page through them as fast as I can to determine how many patterns there are that I can actually use. And then I weigh these new temptations against the pile of projects I have waiting for me…those poor, neglected, half-formed mutants that just need a little finishing, a little work, a little love. And yet they get passed over for the new shineys, the new challenges that will take my art form to epic highs. Poor, sad little creatures.

I also tend to forget what’s in my stash. And I have a beautiful yarn stash, although I always see things I want and think ‘Maybe…maybe just this once…Oh think of all the things I could do with THAT…oh if only I could sink my hands into THAT…oh what glorious things we could make together, that yarn and I!’

okay, maybe I’m not quite that bad, but I still get yarn mania from time to time. And yarn mania combined with fabric mania is just a nightmare waiting to happen. The next thing I know I’ll wake up on the couch all contorted in a pile of yarn and forty-seven different needles, with five different pattern books laying on my lap. And just when I think I’ve reached a new low, I’ll look over and see it: that horrible plastic bag full to the brim of fleece, lining material, and knit apparel fabric that I didn’t really need. And seventeen patterns that looked good at the time. And that awful compulsion, that horrific drive to try new things in an attempt to get higher than before, better than before wars with the shame of all the projects yet to be finished…and I think maybe, maybe if I try really hard and don’t sleep for a week I can get it all done. It never works out, friends.

Don’t let this happen to you or someone you love this holiday season. If you have a crafter in your life, be there for them. Keep an eye on them. Take away their sales brochures (but do so at your own risk – we’re dangerous if you take away our tools. If you ever want to potentially lose a limb go up to a knitter who has nothing else to do and take away her needles. She can be the nicest, most patient person in the world as long as she has her knitting but take it away and watch yourself lose a limb.) Make sure they have a plan, a schedule, a lifeboat when things get to be too much. Comfort them when they get overwhelmed. If they get that telltale gleam in their eye, hide their materials and let the air out of their tires so they can’t buy more. Because if they take on too much, you won’t see them again until at least April. If you want to make sure you actually get to spend time with the crafter in your life this holiday season, be prepared to lock them in a room without their pattern books. But even then you’re not safe, oh no. They will resent you. They will hate you for depriving them of the ability to knit you ten zillion sweaters. They will cry at the thought of all the little children missing out on the little hats they could be making. Just the mere sight of anything holiday-related is enough to send a crafter into fits of nostalgic-fueled work overload. If you know you are prone to these temptations, this unconquerable addiction, just remember all those who love you. They want to spend time with you this holiday season and not just the things you create out of yarn, no matter how magical and how spectacular.

Let’s face it, the heathens never appreciate your talents enough anyway, so why waste your time when you could be plowing them with snowballs and stealing those ungrateful jerks’ Christmas cookies?

So to everyone, a final reminder: be careful. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

When Ideas Attack!

I’m really not complaining. I’m very, very blessed to have an active imagination that’s also incredibly fruitful.

But do all my ideas have to attack me at once? Can I not take a drive, a shower, a nap without one more popping up? If I have to use one more tube of lipstick to write out an outline because I’ve lost my pen or that’s the only thing I have on me, I think I’ll scream.

Ray Bradbury once made the analogy that his ideas had the habit of biting him on the leg, releasing their venom as he wrote the story, then let him go when he was finished.

Which is all well and good…but what happens when all your ideas attack you like the compys in Jurassic Park??? And when you ignore them or try to reason they just make you feel so damn GUILTY. Argh.

I’m currently working on a YA urban fantasy piece based on a folktale. I’ve had this idea for a good three years in different forms, and it all started when I was out for a walk one March day and heard a sound: WhooshTHUNK! WhooooooooshTHUNK! WhooooooooshTHUNK!

Obviously curious, I turned down my MP3 player and picked up my pace…and nearly died at the source. A few streets down a group of children were blissfully sledding down a hill in their yard that was quite steep. That isn’t unusual, right? Except they were stopping themselves by letting themselves run right into an SUV parked on the street. I was so stunned I wasn’t quite sure what to do…really, it wasn’t my place to do much in this day and age. But I have never forgotten the bizarre hilarity of that scene. And that got the ol’ juices flowing into the thing I’m working on now. Which was supposed to be fairly short and to the point. I’m now at 21K.

Which also wouldn’t be bad if I didn’t have two more ideas breathing down my neck plus a novel I need to finish and a host of other things I want to do. I have to carry a pen and notebook with me everywhere, if only for my sheer survival. And this isn’t counting the design ideas or craft projects that explode into my head at random hours.

At the moment, my daily brain activity is something like this:

Current Idea: (sidles up along side and slings an arm over me) So you’re going to work on me, right?

Me: Well, yeah, of course. We’re almost done, anyway!

Current Idea: Yeah, about that…I’ve decided there’s actually more to me than what I told you.

Me: Wait, you were supposed to be simple!! That’s why I bumped you to the front of the queue!!!

Current Idea: Life’s ironic, ain’t it? So yeah, here’s some more for you to play with; you like having options, right?

Me: Well yeah, but-

Current Idea (spontaneously dumps a basket of baby subplot ideas into my lap)

Subplot Ideas: Idea! Idea! Idea! Idea!

Current Idea: Aren’t they just adorable?

Me: uh…well I can work with them, I think. They’re hard to ignore, at any rate.

Other Current Idea: Wait a minute, Bub! That’s cheating! I’m next and now you’re just hogging the author!

Me: Yeah, Sorry about that…but you’ve kind of fizzled–

Other Current Idea: Nah, we can fix that! I’ve got all sorts of ways we can fix that (reaches for its own basket of baby ideas)

Me: Oh God! Wait, not you too– (has to duck as they’re all dumped out). Wait a minute–

Novel: You’re supposed to finish me! This isn’t right at all! And I’ve finally figured out a good ending–

Other Novel: Hold up there, chief! You don’t want to forget about me, do you?

Me: Of course not, but…uh, if you’d just wait your turn-

The Novella Gang: Haaaaaang on just a minute here….

Me: Damn. I thought I ditched you guys a while back…I mean just give me some more time…

The Novella Gang: If you planned better you’d be ready for us by now!

Me: Well things kind of come up

The Giant Mammoth Series of Doom: THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID AGES AGO!!!

Life: SHE HAS OBLIGATIONS. NONE OF YOU APPRECIATE THAT!

Me: (quietly tries to run ) Oh not you! Anything but you!

Life: Face it, kid, you’ll never get away from me!

Series: That’s why she has us! To make her feel better and take her away from all your drama!

Current Idea: Yeah! What he said!

Subplot Ideas: IDEA IDEA IDEA IDEA IDEA IDEA IDEA!

Me: uh…they’re idea-ing all over the place

Current Idea: Yeah, they do that. Cute, huh?

Me: (looks up number for witness protection and wonders if she can get in contact with Ray Bradbury to find out how to make these things calm down….)

The Giant Mammoth Series of Doom: If you’re not going to appreciate me, I can just leave…

Me: NO! No! I love you! I love you all! I don’t want you to leave, just…be patient!

(They all look at each other and mumble, presumably negotiating)

All: Well okay, we can do that.

Me: Good. Great. Awesome. Thank you.

(Exactly five seconds pass by before all perk up with great big puppy eyes)

Series: So are you ready to hear about this new curve ball I’m thinking about???

Current Idea: No, it’s MY TURN!

Life: DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME!

Random New Idea: Hey there, babe! Have I got a thought for you!

 

…………………….SIGH. Compys, I tell you. Freakin’ compys bent on poisoning and mutilating me until I do their bidding.

Though what would I do without them?

Sometimes I fantasize about that…but then again I don’t think I could take all that boredom.

Substantial Children’s Lit or Why I Refuse to Stop Reading Kids Books

So just when I think there can’t possibly be more, I got a notification this week that a poem of mine will be in the back-to-school issue  (probably Aug/Sept) of the e-zine Stories for Children Magazine! I’m so excited for a variety of reasons. Obviously, another acceptance makes me happy, but it’s more than that. Yeah, I kind of gravitate to the dark, the fantastic, the weird, the heartbreaking, and the horrid…

But I really, really love children’s literature. In a major way. I grew up devouring titles by Tomie dePaola (aaaaaagh That one with Strega Nona and the magic pasta pot and the pasta goes EVERYWHERE!!), Steven Kellogg (aaaaaaaaah the Island of the Skog and The Day Jimmy’s Boa Ate the Wash!!!), Nancy Carlson (Zomg ANYTHING about Harriet. That time, with the Halloween candy, and her little brother, and it was so cute!!!), and pretty much anything illustrated by James Marshall (SPACE CASE! SPACE CASE! SPACE CASE!)

ahem. I mean I like them a lot. Seriously, I was the kid that read Where the Wild Things Are and immediately tried to find the island so I could live with the wild things and be at one with them. You can imagine how many parenting manuals my folks went through (kidding, actually they encouraged my imagination and creativity, a choice I’m sure they’ve lived to regret at some point or another). And I was very lucky because in my older childhood years  our local library hosted talks by some of these amazing authors. It still blows my mind that I got to meet Steven Kellogg and Nancy Carlson. (Though not Madeline L’Engle. This is a sore point for me that still crushes my soul a little bit.) Gary Paulson came to my school once and talked about his experiences dog sledding (Hatchet was required reading for seventh grade at the time, if I remember right. He is one of the best public speakers I’ve heard to date, and I still love Hatchet to this day. It is a huge deal because at the age of twelve I was very much a girl interested that was only girl things and then I had to read some book about a boy stuck in the wild camping and stuff. Bah. But then I got addicted to the lush descriptions and that needling thought of ‘what would I do if it was me?’)

I feel like while children’s books have become very profitable, we tend to forget that there are some truly amazing titles out there. The Rain on Kapiti Plain is simple, but gorgeous and calming. I love the folk story Abiyoyo, the hilarity of Miss Nelson is Missing, the musicality of Mama Don’t Allow, the irony of Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch, and so many others.

And you know what else I miss? (Look at those last five titles and think real hard – that’s a clue…)

Reading Rainbow.

It is now a very sore point in my life that if I ever get the children’s book  manuscript I have kicking around published, it will never be on Reading Rainbow. I’m pretty sure that was one of the things that got me penning little stories as a kid. That show opened a whole world for me. Every day I plunked myself down in front of the TV to hear a new story then to learn some behind-the-scenes aspect of the plot that tied into the theme of the day. And in the summer my mother would take me down to the library daily so we could not only check out the featured book, but as many of the books Levar Burton encouraged viewers to take a look at (though don’t take his word for it!). From the start of that show until lord, I don’t know…let’s just say for a good many years I read practically every single title on that show that I could find, especially if we had a long drive on a vacation.

And now, no matter what I do, no matter how accomplished I get…Levar Burton will never hold up a copy of anything I write. Sigh. I think my inner six-year-old just died.

In all fairness that show had a massive run and it achieved some incredible things and presented some amazing topics. I don’t know if current generations would gravitate to something like that now in an age where everything is instant gratification and slightly more one-dimensional. I kind of hope they would. Every generation needs something like this, some basic portal that shows you a list of possibilities that you might not find elsewhere, all made very approachable and interesting as well as entertaining.

As I grew older and moved on to franchised series (BSC anyone?) and books I felt I was supposed to like (Little Women. I will never deny its impact or the fact that it’s a good book, but I don’t like it. I can’t even give very good reasons for it, other than it just felt like the plots all went bonkers about halfway through. I just never really took to it. ),  there are three titles (well, a title, a collection, and a series) that grabbed me by the throat and still haven’t let me go.

Heidi was given to me when I was a young teen and probably older than what the actual age range of the book was. I don’t care. I don’t care that it could be viewed as simplistic, overly moral, or saccharine. I love it. I love the detail, I love the sweetness, the descriptions of the mountains, the descriptions of the food, and all the little quirky interactions and misunderstandings between the characters – not to mention the actual plot. The fact that it can simplify faith in a way that gives everyone something to have hope about…I think that’s amazing. I have had my own personal beliefs challenged and changed fifty billion times growing up, but I still utterly stand by the core of this book. I fall back on it when I’m having doubts about my own life. That’s right, I’m sayin’ it. I read Heidi when I have personal doubts and dilemmas. So there. I’ve probably read this book start to finish at least fifty times and it never disappoints me. No, the movie version isn’t that great and I get that this is not the title for everyone. But for me its simplicity, description, and plain goodness just work.

I have a large collection of Beatrix Potter in a few places on my bookshelf. I say in a few places because I have read this thing so many times it’s fallen apart and whenever I want to read a story I have to remember what chunk it’s in. I love her stories. I have a secret love of adorable things and there is nothing like talking animals wearing clothes in farm settings. I want to snuggle them all. While I like some better than others (The Tailor of Gloucester, A Tale of Two Bad Mice, Squirrel Nutkin, The Tale of Samuel Whiskers, Jeremy Fisher, and Mrs. Tiggy Winkle are my top favorites), they all present a soothing quality. When I’m having trouble sleeping this is the book I usually go to. I also have a mad love for The Fairy Caravan, though I don’t own that one.

I was given the Little House series by my grandmother when I was eight. I did not immediately fall in love with the books. Actually, I thought they were kind of weird and boring and a little hard to pay attention to, probably because I was randomly given them, told they were important, but wasn’t given much of a context so I could compare or appreciate them against other things. I think it took me until I was nine or ten to really gain an appreciation for them. I’ve hung onto this series ever since then, though I probably need to buy a new set – if Beatrix Potter is in chunks, my copies of these books are in tatters, I’ve read them so many times. I will say right now that while the TV show was amusing and sweet, I would take the books over it any day of the week. I also think it takes a certain type of person to appreciate the books, because they are slower-paced. I love descriptions of things and every book has that coming out its ears. I mean all the food descriptions in Farmer Boy border on pornography…I want to dive into that book and eat EVERYTHING! As I’ve grown older I also appreciate the different levels in the books more – for every “simple” story line there are little asides and things you don’t catch outright. You get glimpses into the people these stories represent, and if you go on to read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s other works, you have a huge appreciation for everything they went through. (Yes, there are actually a few more titles not in the series and a collection of articles she wrote for papers when she lived in Missouri. They are amazing and more in-depth; I probably enjoy these more “adult” books more than the children titles now, but I would never have found them without the Little House series. )

I’ve heard interviews with the television show cast where they remark that the books are an idealized version of pioneer life through the eyes of a little girl. ….Uh, did you read The Long Winter?  I’ve also heard complaints that nothing happens in the books. Uh…how about every time the Ingalls family nearly gets ahead something happens like illness, locust plagues, being forced off their land, a winter that nearly starves everyone in town?  And what about that time when Laura’s teaching school and staying with a family and the wife comes after her husband with a knife? All the descriptions of activities help keep everything that actually happens in perspective – you have to know how things worked to know why the events are important. They’re a unique time capsule. Yes, they are cozy titles, but they also show that faith and work are qualities you need in life. (And if you have a set that includes The First Four Years, well, that book just gives a whole other dimension to the collection as a whole.) I might gravitate to these because I have pioneer blood in my own family, but every time I read them I am severely humbled by what people went through in their daily lives just to get by. And give me the Almanzo/Laura romance in the books over the TV show version any day of the week.

So yes, I love children and youth literature, I write it now and again myself, and I consider it important. It’s not just about getting kids to read, it’s about giving them substance that makes them think, that makes them feel safe enough to explore, that gives them something worth comparing their own experiences with.

And if I just so happen to sneak a title every now and again as an adult…well, it’s always good to be reminded of those things now that I’m grown, too.

An Unexpected Alliance

So I opened up my email, expecting the usual amount of ads, necessary requests for stuff, the usual…and I found that I’ve had another story accepted to be released as an e-book next year! I am doing a dance, let me tell you! It will be called ‘The Other Man’ and it’s a quirky, unusual look at family life and the things that influence relationships. I’ll have the blurb up soon.

I find myself a little stunned every time that something like this happens. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited! But I’m also realizing how much I have to learn and how far I still have to go. But I’m also eager and willing to devour new info and do what it takes to make this work.

Because I’ve found such good luck with the e-book route and because Ray Bradbury is my favorite of favorites, couldn’t help but notice this

I have very mixed feelings on this.

On the one hand, I obviously am for the internet, ebooks, and that sort of promotion. I feel like in this day and age where the bigger publishers are looking for a franchise and not a story, for a way to make money and aren’t necessarily willing to take up for new writers that don’t fit their sellable model (I’m sure this isn’t true across the board, but it does feel like it lately. I’d love to be proven wrong.) this is the option to go, especially when trying to gain credits and a fan base. Does anyone else remember when you were limited to hoping you saw a release notice of your favorite author in a paper or magazine? If you were like me you just kept looking up your favorite author in the card catalogue and prayed something new would eventually come up. Now, not only do you know when the new stuff is out, you can actually interact with and know more about your favorite authors. Sure, there’s a line, but there’s always been a line.

Now I do submit to magazines and I do plan to submit some things to print publishers, because I feel strongly about covering all my bases. True, the Kindle, Nook, etc are all very popular, but there is something to be said for catering to all audiences.  While I do buy ebooks and read them on my laptop, I also find it hard to give up the romance of the printed page. I am addicted to the library and I like the ritual of actually going there, getting lost in the stacks, and filling up the backseat of my car with new titles. (Granted, I have the overdue fees to prove it, but I feel like that money’s going to a good cause so I don’t grumble about it too much.) Record stores have already become almost a thing of the past, don’t make me give up my libraries, too!

I get that I’m an almalgam…that weird generation that has a foot firmly planted on both sides. And to be fair, I’m not always great with actually working technology, whereas I know how to work a book. Also to be fair, books are really hard to lug around and I end up opting not to take something to read when I’d rather have it with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve bought a book because they’re getting really expensive.

So I do get both sides of the issue. And this is the man who brought us Fahrenheit - I’m sure it was a hard decision and a very personal matter. I can completely understand why he held out so long. But I’m very glad he finally decided to just go for it.  I’m sure he isn’t happy about it. From the tone of the article you can tell that it’s more of a matter of necessity. I’ve actually often wondered what it must be like for Mr. Bradbury – to see so much of what he predicted in Farenheit come true – maybe not in a police-state way, but in a media and technology way flat screens, Ipods, ereaders, all the variations of computers have come spookily close to recreating his world. Yes, the Internet is not the world. I’m definitely one that uses it for what I have to so I can go out for a walk or something that I actively participate in. People who know me know that I’d much rather be called on the phone if we’re going to have a long conversation. I’ve held out on social networking for a long time, though I’m finally breaking down on that fight, myself. I don’t think it’s a matter of technology being good or bad…it’s how it’s used. It’s like any other accomplishment, machine, or material object: it’s just there. It’s the people behind it that make it what it is. So yeah, if it’s manipulated only to sell product or to promote one way of thought, or to be a cultural and emotional anesthetic then yeah, that’s not so good. But it can also be an educational tool as well as provide advantages to people of all walks of life. Look at television: for every show that’s designed to push something or may not be something you want a certain age bracket to watch you have things like PBS providing remarkable, unbiased shows and services. So it definitely goes both ways.

But I do think that with ebooks…that may be the one way that we give ourselves a fighting chance. Yeah, it’s still technology. I don’t think technology is evil, but I do think it can get excessive, and I worry about the younger generations that are completely brought up on it. But if we are using it to promote literacy, to make it accessible to those who might not slug a book around in their bag or carry on, well then that’s one more outlet to reach people through. So I don’t necessarily see it as Bradbury breaking down and giving in. In a way it’s ironic genius; a whole new audience that might not have picked Farenheit off the shelves can download it, and maybe it will give them something to think about. As long as we’re not totally losing our beloved titles, as long as people are still reading, as long as people who have a real love for writing can be given an actual outlet to share their efforts with the world,  then I can’t help but think that that’s a good thing.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like…

I want to take a minute to talk about the holidays. Nah, I’m not going to get religious or sentimental, not gonna re-hash any memories. But since we’re going to be getting into December proper, I want to say this while it’s in my head. So I’m going to get on my high horse for a moment, so no one walk directly under me or I’ll probably jump off and try to tackle you just to see if I can do it. Ahem.

If you’re out and about this year, by all means enjoy yourself. Enjoy shopping, enjoy the movies, have fun at any special stuff you go to be it theatre shows, sponsored holiday events, concerts, etc. And yes, the holidays get stressful. I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be irritable, frantic, frustrated, or upset. But I would like you to take a minute to consider the people you may walk right by who participate in these events: the cashiers and store managers, clergymen, postmen, the bell-ringers on corners, the mall Santas and elves, all the people who go into putting on those holiday concerts and Christmas-themed shows be it ‘A Christmas Carol,’ ‘White Christmas,’ or the random carolers and performance artists that go into putting on a live spectacle this time of year. Please don’t be dumb to them. It’s not cool. I know you work hard and you spend your money and want to kick back, turn your brain off, and enjoy a night out, but remember that all of these people are working their butts off so you can have a great holiday season. A lot of people have to deal with it by default, but remember that a lot of folks take on that sort of work as extra employment this time of year if they can.

My own experience is with the performing crowd in this aspect. I’ve done a lot of different Christmas gigs in my life and I always enjoy myself. But remember that if we’re working hard to give you a holiday, we have to rush even faster to make our own. I’m not taking a day off until after New Years (except Christmas Eve and Day) - that’s absolutely fine, that’s what I signed on for. Truth be told I know people who are working a few jobs and not taking any time off from Thanksgiving past New Years, so I’m not complaining a bit. I love making kids smile and hearing everyone enjoy the show I’m working on. But it saddens me that so many people walk around either ignoring the people I’ve listed or being outright rude to them – and I mean all age groups. I could tell a lot of stories but I’m not going to do it here on a public forum – plus inevitably it’ll get me on a rant that will last forever and I’ll get all ticked off, and then I won’t sleep well and who needs that?

It’s perfectly fine to lost yourself in a little holiday magic, but just be appreciative. Don’t snap at your cashier if they don’t ring you up fast enough. Don’t be jerky to your post office if they’re out of a certain stamp. For the love of God don’t yell at Santa or push through a group of carolers because they’re in your way. Don’t go to a show and love it in the auditorium but act outrageous in the parking lot afterwards. Realize that the minister that does the service you take comfort in probably hasn’t seen his or her own family a lot during the holidays because there’s so much to do (services to plan, people to visit, activities to head up…).

You don’t have to run up and randomly hug all these people, but please try to realize that in your panic and irritation at relatives or schedules, in your frustration with a huge to-do list, there’s no reason to take it out on the people that are trying to help you or trying to give you a little joy. Be aware that there are no enemies or people actively trying to make things hard for you. There are a whole lot of people trying to help you out and give you a magical holiday season.

That said, stay safe and have a great month because there are a lot of really fun, cool things to do out there!