Complementary children’s books released in the same year are a joy to discover. Read enough books for kids, or watch enough titles passing through your door, and you begin to pick up on a fair amount of overlap. Review journal editors see this kind of thing much more often than I do, and they tend to react accordingly (see the Publishers Weekly discussion between the three creators of biographies of Eunice Newton Foote, for example).
I am on record as saying that in 2026 we’ve seen a distinct downward tick in the number of books by Black creators. Black subject matter in our nonfiction is also less prominent on our shelves than it was even two or three years ago. Fortunately, it is also true that I recently saw these two stars on my library’s bookshelves:
Hairstory by Sope Martins, ill. Briana Mukodiri Uchendu
If you haven’t seen them for yourself, let me sum them up for you.
For Hairstory, “There’s a reason it’s called your crowning glory!” This shows off the cultural significance of hair across African hairstyling traditions, and it’s chock full of beauty and history in equal measure. This book appeared at first to be a fictional picture book, but even a cursory read shows that this is a fact-filled fascinating dive into hair from a particularly African tribe and nation-centric perspective. You’ll get information about hair from six different ethnic groups (Mbalantu, Maasai, Himba, etc.) as well as regions. There’s history. There’s beautiful illustrations (Uchendu needs to do more books for us). It’s historical and it’s contemporary all at once.
As for Fros, Fades, and Braids, this is a celebration of the complicated and wonderful history of American Black hair, placed within the context of its times. Everything you ever wanted to know is now in one convenient book. Sean Qualls releases his talents in full in this thoughtful and downright glorious history and celebration of Black American hair. It isn’t the first Black hair book we’ve ever seen, but there’s a great deal of nuance and thoughtful explanations at work here. More so, in fact, than I’ve ever seen in a book for kids before. Qualls is able to, with seeming ease, explain the history behind conks and straighteners with a keen eye to the racism at work behind them, but without any judgement. Everything is placed within the context of its times. I was particularly impressed to see that with almost every style, he always takes care to include someone contemporary that kids might recognize. So you get Snoop Dogg on the page about men with straight hair and Questlove on the “Famous Fros” page. The book is split into different sections, one per style. Extra extra points for beginning not simply with Madam C.J. Walker but also with the woman who she worked for (and was her competitor) Annie Malone. Qualls also utilizes a kind of fantastic almost poster-style art that comes across with these images and words so beautifully.
So! With these two absolute bangers out this year, I wanted to get the creators in discussion with one another. How did they do their research? Where’s the overlap? What’s unique about how they chose to tackle the material?
Here now is my talk with Sope Martins and Sean Qualls about their incredible titles:
Special thanks to both Sope and Sean for taking time out of their schedules to speak with me. Thanks too to Antonella Colon for helping to put this together. Both books are currently available for purchase, so please be so good as to check them out. Preferably together.
A nice thing about being unable to focus is that I also can't focus on being miserable. Case in point: after a truly incomparable series of missed appointments and scheduling errors yesterday, I sat down wretchedly this morning, in true anxiety about my mnemonic capacity, to see if I could at least still recall two touchstone poems memorized in high school: Shakespeare's Sonnet 116, ("Let Me Not to the Marriage of True Minds") and "Kubla Khan".
The choice of sonnet is a bit mysterious to me now (the craft is exquisite; the marriage never materialized), but "Kubla Khan" makes perfect sense.
Writing it out again (all except the bit about the bouncing rocks in the middle, where I get hopelessly lost and always have) I could not help looking at "Kubla Khan" this time with my own fixations in mind, and before I knew it I had forgotten my forgetfuless and was happily sloshing around in the sacred river Alph.
I've only just started this journal, though I've used Dreamwidth sporadically before. I plan to mainly write about my writing progress, my writing projects, thoughts on writing, authors/poets I'm reading (English) and similar.
My hobbies are:
Poetry, roleplaying, writing, ballet, art, icon making (sporadically and mostly RP-related) and scrapbooking/collage-making.
My fandoms are:
I'm not active in any fandoms rn, though in the past I've been active in the Takarazuka Revue fandom and the Danish ballet fandom. I am, however, running the poetry prompt challenge community, 25poemsamonth, if that counts as a fandom.
I'm looking to meet people who:
Like to write, will share their writing with me, their writing progress, ups-downs, writing journal, research, thoughts. Just writing, ok.
My posting schedule tends to be:
Honestly, probably sporadic, but as I'm beginning to work on an English-language verse novel soon, I hope to be a little more active than just once a month.
When I add people, my dealbreakers are:
No gen AI. No queerphobia, transphobia, racism, etc.
Before adding me, you should know:
Can't really think of anything. I live in Denmark, so might post at weird times compared to the many American folks here.
I think the very first song that blasted into my mind when I read this came from Led Zeppelin. When I was a teenager, and for years thereafter, I disliked the band. In large part that was because I didn't like Robert Plant's voice. I thought it was whiny.
In the decades since. I learned to really enjoy Plant's voice. His solo work stuck with me first and I thought, "Well, I may not like how he sang in Led Zep, but I do like his voice now."
And then something odd happened; I started looking back at Led Zeppelin's earliest stuff and listening to it, and I realized that Plant wasn't whining. He was wailing. And that wail worked beautifully for the work the band was presenting at the time.
And once I got over disliking Plant's voice during his Led Zeppelin days, I was free to appreciate the other members of the band. Jimmy Page was obviously in a class by himself when it came to the guitar; John Bonham may have played ever so slightly behind the beat, making his drums sound like brontosaurus lumberings, but it worked. And John Paul Jones knew how to work with Bonham.
Today I can honestly say that the first song I ever disliked performed by Led Zeppelin is now a song I think truly rocks. As in, when I hear it, my head starts to bang. Not healthy, perhaps, but understandable, I think at least some of you might agree.
I hasten to add that Chicago bluesman Willie Dixon successfully sued the band over its use of his song, "You Need Love" in their hit. The suit was settled out of court and Dixon's name was subsequently listed as a co-writer of the Led Zeppelin song. Here's his original:
I am posting from the computer before my present one -- this one dates from the early 2000s, and is a bit slow. My good 2019 computer is in the shop getting a new keyboard -- apparently when one key is busted all of them are and the entire top of the laptop gets replaced. It's the down arrow that didn't work.
And because of that I have about 10 days either with only my phone (I will not describe going through 100+ new emails there; it is tedious) or this elderly one that I have purposely kept on an older operating system because this lappie has really excellent older software that simply doesn't work on the more recent op systems. So I am relaxing, watching old stored movies (Skyfall, anyone?) and doing offline sorting of books and papers and so on.
ETA: The guy at the shop said I could have them do the work in-house, for about 10 days, or they could send it to another shop where they would mail it back after about 5 days. I do not trust the current postmaster, or his cuts to service, or the possibility that it would end up sitting on a shelf somewhere and not come back, so I agreed to the 10 days or so.
I'm also feeling the losses, and letting myself feel them and letting them go through me instead of "braving it out" or trying to ignore them and having everything get worse later. I don't want worse later; now is enough. I can bear now. I am remembering so many little things, and big things, aond old things and it all just works.
It also means I'm sleeping a lot, around my meds schedule, which is less easy than it sounds. Basically, I have a BP pill and a blood thinner, each of which needs to be taken 2x a day about 12 hours apart, but not at the same time because the stress on my heart is too much. So I am carefully scheduling the one for 9 am and pm and the other for 10-11 am and pm, and that is working. Otherwise my heart bangs until it wakes me up, which is not fun.
I'm also handspinning silk roving in various colors; it's one of my favorite things to do while watching tv, because looking from the work in my hands to the set across the room keeps my eyes from getting stuck at the shorter distance. I did maybe 15 yards, three ply, today, which is 45 yards of single ply. You do the 3-ply by putting a big slipknot loop into the end of it, then continue to loop through the loop and twirl the spindle in the opposite direction of the single ply's twist. The result is useful, not so thin that it falls apart, and looks good. I am thinking of crocheting small keepsake bags from them.
That's about what's happening here, give or take a freeze warning or hearing the fox calling in the park half a block away late at night. I'm glad of that fox and its kin; they are welcome to come to my yard to eat mice whenever they wish.
This longform article is framed as being a "ha ha isn't it wacky NASA hired a lingerie company for the Apollo missions". Ignore that. It turns out to be about an organizational culture clash around documentation and specification requirements that will speak to all the therapists and software developers in the room. Also of interest to fans of the US space program, the history of women in NASA and in tech, and clothing construction.
Bit daunting that. I’ve known more than one author to find themselves stymied in their own writing when the shadow of a large win looms over their future projects and prospects. It’s part of the reason I watch writers’ follow-up novels to the Newbery with such interest. Whether you win the Award outright or an Honor, the direction your next book takes says a lot about you as an author.
Particularly if your next book is described by your publisher as, “Homeward Bound meets The Odyssey with the charm of Studio Ghibli.” No small praise, that. But then, no minor author is Erin Bow.
I’m sure a fair number of you were as big a fans of her Newbery Honor winning title Simon Sort of Says. To this day I still think of the squirrel running amok in the church with fondness. Now that book was a heady, not to mention gutsy, mix of humor and tragedy in equal measures, set in a very realistic, real world. It stands to reason, then, that her next book would be just a bit… different. A little more animalian. A little more magic.
Witchward Boundis out on shelves everywhere September 1st. With art from Kelly Murphy, the story concerns a witch, a cat, and a raven. But I’ll let the publisher describe it properly to you in their own way:
“Once upon a time there was a pair of witch’s helpers: a cat named Butter and a raven named Owl. The cat knows he is destined to be a great hero—just ask him. The raven wouldn’t recognize destiny if she flew into it beak-first. They do not get along.
But then their witch vanishes, and Butter and Owl must quest to find her. To reunite their family, they’ll have to outwit sirens and cyclops, gods and ghosts—and hardest of all, they’ll have to learn to work together.
Humorous and heartfelt, the story of Butter and Owl’s first adventure shows what it means to be a great hero—and what it takes to be a good friend. With enchanting illustrations by New York Times best-seller Kelly Murphy and sparkling words written by beloved, Newbery Honor–winning author Erin Bow, this tale is a classic in the making—a whimsical, witty, and warm story worthy of reading again and again.”
Today we perform a cover reveal and a Q&A. Because this is, to put it mildly, not usually where a Newbery Honoree goes after their win.
I. Had. Questions.
Betsy Bird: Erin! My, but it’s good to see you, and to see a new book from you as well. You had any number of directions you could have gone, but WITCHWARD BOUND is a cozier title than one might have expected. I think we’re all gonna need some context here. Where on earth did this great adventure story come from?
Erin Bow
Erin Bow: To be honest, it wasn’t what I meant to write.
I was working on something entirely different – a big ambitious SFF novel with a non-linear structure, a la Station Eleven. But I was also struggling with Long COVID, and mourning my mom, and I just couldn’t make the words go. I decided to put the complex novel away and write something just to delight myself. I didn’t even intend it for publication. I just sent it to a few friends, chapter by chapter, as a serial adventure.
As for where it comes from – everywhere, nowhere, who knows? Terry Pratchett’s witch books – the art of Meryl McMaster, which conjured the witch for me – a decade-ago writing prompt on Tumblr about two squabbling familars – my emotional support cat, Cygnus, whose snoring inspired Butter’s – a summer spent housesitting among the ravens on Pender Island. They say you can befriend ravens with peanuts, but being unable to manage the raven-proof garbage cans will also work.
The thing that really made it work was connecting Butter and Owl’s road trip to Odyssey, and though I’m definitely a not-so-closet classics fan, I have no idea how I made that leap.
BB: Yes, I finally got clued onto the Odyssey factor when Circe showed up. So some say that after a Newbery win, it can be difficult working on any kind of a follow-up afterwards. Was that something you struggled with yourself, or not so much?
Erin: Sure, because no pressure, right? Maybe that was part of the reason I had to put my SFF novel down, or the reason my more Simon-like middle grade has been slow to start. But honestly, the first Butter and Owl book was as effortless and magical as any book I’ve ever written.
BB: And it feels that way? Of course, tonally, the book feels very different from SIMON SORT OF SAYS. Are there books for kids that served as influences, either directly or indirectly, as you wrote this? On a related note, anything you read as a kid yourself that has stuck with you and that you hope this book emulates?
Erin: This is my E.B. White book, for sure. Charlotte’s Web is the one everyone loves, but my favorite as a kid was Trumpet of the Swan. It’s about a trumpeter swan named Louis, who was born mute. His dad steals a trumpet by breaking into a music shop in in Billings, Montana. The trumpet gives Louis a voice, but his father’s crime also weighs heavy on him, and he spends the rest of the story earning money to pay back the music store owner. It’s absurd – imagine a swan staying at the Ritz, ordering watercress sandwiches off the take-out menu — but it’s never nihilistic.
Trumpet of the Swan is also where I learned about the delights of allusion, and how art connects to other art. I vividly remember my dad explaining to me why it was funny that the trumpeter swan was named Louis, which lead to him introducing me to his beloved jazz.
I want all that for Witchward Bound. I want it to be ridiculous but also sincere. I want it to be connected to the greater world story, and I want some kid to wander into the Odyssey the way I wandered into Louis Armstrong. Most of all – this is my secret huge ambition so don’t tell – I want it to be on the shelves in fifty years, where someone who loved it as a child can return to it and find it still delightful, but maybe deeper than they realized.
BB: The holy grail. Process nerd that I am, tell us a little bit about the writing and editing. How much does this final result resemble your first draft? And did you have to lose anything along the way that was painful to cut?
Erin: I’m usually a meandering sort of writer. I can’t outline, so my first drafts have got all these oxbows and snags and silted up places. This makes revision an intense process for me, with a lot of cutting and clearing and dredging. And, yes, I usually do have to take out something wonderful but wrong for the book.
Witchward Bound was different, though, maybe because it’s more strongly episodic than anything else I’ve done. Once the story gets going, each chapter is its own adventure, and putting the draft together for publication was more like putting beads on a string than mapping a river. Even when one chapter misfired and had to be ripped out and replaced, the revision was self-contained. The result was a final draft that looked much more like its first draft than my final drafts usually do.
BB: Hard hitting question alert! In a world of Butters and Owls, how do you identify? Are you more Butter or are you more Owl?
Erin: I am a Butter, alas.
I discovered in writing book two of Butter and Owl’s adventures that Butter’s point of view comes naturally to me. Owl’s voice comes out much more in book two, and finding it was a struggle. As I told my editor: If you had telepathy it would be pointless to use it on Owl, because what she’s thinking is exactly what she’s saying. She is clear Owl all the way down.
Butter, on the other hand, has an image of himself that he knows he doesn’t live up to, and sense of how the world should be that the world likewise fails to deliver. There’s turmoil and contradiction and longing there, and all of that seems to be me-ish.
BB: Your words happened to get paired with the art of the incomparable Kelly Murphy. Were you aware of Kelly’s work prior to this tale? How do you feel about the final product?
Erin: I don’t know if Kelly knows this, but I’m the one who put her name in the mix for this project. I remembered her illustrations for Peck’s Secrets at Sea. Of course, that wasn’t the end of it: Authors don’t choose their illustrators, and I know the Disney design department considered several amazing talents. I am so happy they ultimately landed on Murphy. I grinned from ear to ear when I saw the first character sketches of my dear big Butter, gasped in awe when I saw the illustration of Owl and Butter meeting the god of the wind, and teared up at the happy ending illustration.
I haven’t seen the actual book yet, and I cannot wait!
BB: Finally, what else are you working on these days? What’s next for you?
Erin: For a start, more Butter and Owl! The Witchward Bound is a riff on the Odyssey, of course. The second book, Bay of Wolves, is a riff on Beowulf, and it’s almost done.
In the original epic, the King of the Danes builds a feasting hall next to a body of water that’s literally called the Lake of Monsters. The noise of the feast bothers the monsters, and they attack the hall, and then everybody’s day is ruined. We’re obviously meant to side with the Danes, but honestly the monsters have a point.
Bay of Wolves is likewise a story about neighbours and newcomers and noise complaints. There’s a wolf pack, a wizard, more alliteration than you’d expect from a children’s book, and a monster-shaped surprise. I’m thrilled with it.
Apart from that, there’s an Arthurian Butter and Owl book just getting started. I just wrote a chapter where they lose their small fire-spirit friend down a well, and must rescue him without spilling the well water, so naturally they need to find a …wait for it …. holey pail.
There’s also a more Simon-ish middle grade about a town that’s overrun by crows, a new poetry project, that SFF novel that I put down once upon a time, and several more.
I really do seem to have a Butter-sized sense of ambition – I want to be a great writing hero, and put a couple dozen more books into the world.
BB: As long as you keep filling your books with ravens and crows, I’d say you’re on the right path.
Magnificent gobs of thanks to Erin for her thoughts and opinions on her work, writing, and books. Witchward Boundis, as I mentioned before, out on shelves everywhere September 1st so please be so good as to pre-order it now.
And here, my darlings, is the cover itself:
Thanks too to Crystal McCoy and the team at Disney Books for this fun talk and reveal!
I attempted to re-watch Veronica Mars and Firefly - but neither held my interest, and Veronica Mars - sigh, it neither dates well nor holds up. I remember liking this better when I first watched it? Maybe I wanted to like it? The writing and direction just aren't that good. And Bell doesn't quite sell the high school student vibe? The performances are more forced and less natural than the ones on Buffy - there's a scene with Veronica crying in about the seventh or eighth episode, and I don't buy it. Buffy cried - and I bought it. Also, Veronica isn't as likable nor is Keith, none of the characters are - and I think it's a dual problem, writing and direction. I can see why Rob Thomas's work didn't take off and Veronica Mars didn't last more than three seasons, and the revival didn't take off. I may try Firefly, again, not certain, don't really remember it all. I only have a vague memory of most of the episodes.
April Question a Day Memage:
20. Did you sleep well last night?
Not really. I need to go to bed earlier. I've been getting to bed around 10:30, and as a result only sleep a little over 5 hours. Also getting up at 5:50 am. I slept longer, when I went to bed by 10 am, and slept until 6 am.
21. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would that be?
New York City. I really don't want to live anywhere else? It has ease of transportation, my favorite mode of transportation, is near water, has lots of trees, and a temperate climate. Plus lots of cultural pursuits, and is very diverse in population.
I'm a New Yorker, I think. It's going to be very hard to prod me out. NYC has kind of ruined me for anywhere else. You either take to this city and love it for life, or you can't wait to get out of it - and don't stay long. It's often one or the other. Also apparently, you either love Boston or NYC, not both.
Maybe London would work? I remember loving London in the 1980s. I suck at languages, so it would have to be a place that spoke English as the official language. Also, I don't/can't drive any longer (yes, I drove once upon a time - long ago, in a galaxy far far away - it was called Kansas, and it was back in the 20th Century). I like trains. And I need trees.
**
Books
To get out of the reading slump - I've embraced one of my go-to genres, Fantasy. And am exploring all the new fantasy novels out there. I have two favorite go-to genres - Fantasy and Science Fiction. (Then mystery and romance, and horror, and sigh, regular realistic fiction which more often than not tends to bore me? I need more plot and world-building than actually exists in realistic fiction.)
I finished Illona Andrews "The Kinsmen Universe" novellas, Silver Shark and Silver Streak (I think), and stopped short of the soft core porn short story (Illona Andrews isn't that good at sex scenes, and I tend to roll my eyes?). It was good. Not enough plot. But fast reads.
Now? I'm reading Gideon, the Ninth on my Kindle - it's a book about lesbian necromancers in Space. Gideon is attempting to escape a necromancer strong-hold. We'll see. I'm heterosexual - so lesbian stories sometimes work for me, and sometimes don't. It depends on the characters. Actually that's true of heterosexual stories too, so never mind. It came highly rec'd - mainly for the banter and laugh out loud sections, also emotional core. From various social media sources - people here, and random strangers on "Book Instagram" (I finally found "Book Instagram" - which is kind of like Book TikTok but far less annoying, and not quite as obnoxious with the marketing and pimping - not that I'm on TikTock - TikTock irritates me - and that's just from the posts folks throw at me from it on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. It reminds me of the worst of Twitter - but with videos.)
Also making my way through This Kingdom Will Not Kill Me by Illona Andrews - in hard cover (so I can only read it at home - although, I am debating lugging it to doctor's appointments). This book is a portal fantasy - except into a "GrimDark Fantasy World" (a la Game of Thrones without GRR Martin's abilities - so think a very watered down version of Game of Thrones?). Portal Fantasy is not my favorite fantasy sub-genre? It's hard to do pull off well - and Illona Andrews doesn't manage it. So far there are far too many information dumps, and way too much telling and not enough showing. Every time a character shows up - we get a couple of paragraphs, sometimes pages of character backstory, summarized by the protagonist based on her memory of the book's world. It's kind of like having a commentator with you as you read? CS Lewis didn't a better job with the portal fantasy in the Chronicles of Narnia, as did the guy who wrote The Magicians, which became a series. Long Live Evil - was atrocious, I couldn't get through it.
Also the world, which is GrimDark, is much nicer to the protagonist than it should be. It's kind of a comforting, romantic take on Game of Thrones, while at the same time making fun of Game of Thrones...or the fact that GRR Martin can't finish the series because he wrote himself into a corner and got writer's block as a result. (We're never going to see Winds of Winter.)
***
Doctors...
I've finally figured out why people who see doctors are called patients. I'm surprised it took this long. It's kind of obvious when you think about it.
I logged off yesterday around 4:30 and started the process of making whipped ganache, and as per usual, the amount of time it takes to get the temperature of the ganache down to 75°F is RIDICULOUS even when I put the bowl on the window sill with the window open (there is a screen) and a cold breeze coming in. I guess the one good part about how long it took was that I was able to make and eat dinner in the middle of it, so I didn't have to do the whole thing hungry. Then I loaded those dishes into the dishwasher and started separating eggs to make vanilla Swiss meringue buttercream. And got some yolk in with the whites so had to start over. And then cracked an egg and it was frozen, so unusable for my purposes.
I did eventually get 4 egg whites in a bowl with a cup of sugar and set it over the pot of simmering water so I could whisk it until it heated to 160°F because aside from my own fear of salmonella, the whole point here was to celebrate my pregnant co-worker so I absolutely needed to make sure everything was safe. It's always amazing to me how they double in size as you whisk and heat them and eventually they hit the temp, so I whipped them into stiff peaks (not by hand), which took about twice the amount of time it normally does (physics! always working against me!), but did eventually happen. All was well as I added in the butter, but then I added the vanilla bean paste (gotta have the specks!) and it curdled. So I had to reheat it to melting, chill it, and whip it while adding another 1/4 cup of butter, but it did eventually whip up beautifully. Both frostings piped like a dream, too, since they were not cold. Pics are here. And they were much appreciated by my co-workers! At the end of the day, when I went into the lunchroom to put the leftovers in the fridge, I found someone packing them up to take home. She was like, did you want them? And I was like, no, I was just going to put them in the fridge for tomorrow. I'm pretty sure she did not know I was the person who made them, but that's okay.
Work itself was fine - we spent most of our team meeting eating cupcakes while everyone else talked about their cats - but I was 3/4 of the way there this morning when I realized I'd left my ID badge in my old bag (I got a new bag for work recently, and used it for the first time today, and I think I like it. It is quite large but the strap is the perfect length for a large crossbody, imo), but thankfully they have guest ID cards so I was able to go about my day without interruption. I did make myself a note to remember my ID card next month when I go in. (well, unless there is a LIRR strike, but there probably won't be.)
***
Today's poem:
The Thing Is
to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you down like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.
—Ellen Bass, from Mules of Love, 2002.
***
Current Mood:tired
Current Music:switching btwn the Mets and the hockey
This is your check-in post for today. The poll will be open from midnight Universal or Zulu Time (8pm Eastern Time) on Tuesday, April 21, to midnight on Wednesday, April 22. (8pm Eastern Time).
1. Last Thursday I fell at a new client's house. I missed a step from the house to garage. Went down like a sack of potatoes. I sprained my ankle. I have not sought medical care of any kind. It is less painful every day but it looks horrible. I feel like a 19th century surgeon is going to come of the wings with a saw and cut it off. The swelling is going down but the bruise seems to be moving across the foot, like jumping to the base of my toes after a couple of days. It's really disturbing. The colors. I've got range of motion but damn, it's definitely an ugly thing.
But I was asked to be a regular, so though I thought I made a horrible impression, how can I keep your spouse from falling if I can't keep myself upright, I must not have. The Tuesday client did not ask me back, though. I have my Friday guy again. So, it comes and goes as usual.
2. Minor is 15 today. He had a good time on the trip, but he continues to try my patience. For example, I bought two T-shirts from the school store ($$$, one for him, one for me) and he was given them yesterday, put them on his bag and someone stole them by the end of practice. I've got to let it go or it'll drive me crazy.
3. Last Wednesday, the man who had me paint his floor had me weed his stone walkway. I have him tomorrow. We shall see what it brings.
4. I know I am in the pre-menopausal epoch of life and so my cycle is even more erratic than it was. But it will never cease to smack me upside the head with the mood swings. Like every single cycle of my entire god forsaken life, even now, I am wondering...am I depressed? am I crazy? So tearful, so nuttily tearful. And then a couple of days later...I will get an answer. And that answer is YES.
5. Minisculus went to a friend's house on Friday so I was alone with the boys' father and he chose to work all night. We really have nothing to say to each other. Not one thing. And reinforced by the stupid ankle and hormones, I just tipped into despair. I know my fantasies of a RL friend set (friend! not lover!) are just limerence. Just limerence. But I might take an art class at the local community college in the evenings this summer. Just to do something different and maybe make a friend. (but I have made a new ARMY e-friend and that's very exciting. I watched the first episode of The Untamed because of her. It's okay. I don't need to see more).
6. The weight loss is just not happening. I feel like I have no control of anything, hobbling around, eating everything in sight. I wonder if I should quit paying for this program I'm not observing. Then I think 'one more month.' Sometimes I think weight loss has to be a part time job to result in any progress (for me).
7. I am reading Ursula Le Guin's The Disposessed and the DW book club book A Magic Steeped in Poison by Judy I. Lin. And am listening to the latest 2 Shetland series audiobooks. I tried to listen to a Vera Stanhope audiobook (I am eagering anticipating the next Matthew Ven story which should be out in the autumn--all by Ann Cleeves) but I had to nope out of it. Too much Woman Pain and I've got enough of that. I had to put Rebus on hold as the Le Guin is overdue at the library. Will I ever get to my own TBR? Sigh.
But get off the bus, Gloomy Gus! There are still good things happening.
8. Am back to doing ficlets.
9. By pure chance, I happened upon a 4-pack of my favorite facial sheet mask brand Avatara on 50% off because they were seasonal Easter flavors and one of them is called Peep the Glow which makes me smile. Another is called Spring Sparkle. Fun find. I didn't even know they existed and I am sucker for seasonal stuff.
10. I splurged on a Michael's run and bought some ephemera packs. I may be sending y'all spring cards because why not? Spread some cheer. Stop gazing at my own sorry navel and think about somone else. And there's this poem. Sometimes, I like a poem just for a line and this title, it's very good. It deserves to be the title of hardboiled/noir short story.
No Moon Floods the Memory of That Night by Etheridge Knight
No moon floods the memory of that night only the rain I remember the cold rain against our faces and mixing with your tears only the rain I remember the cold rain and your mouth soft and warm no moon no stars no jagged pain of lightning only my impotent tongue and the red rage within my brain knowing that the chilling rain was our forever even as I tried to explain:
“A revolutionary is a doomed man with no certainties but love and history.” “But our children must grow up with certainties and they will make the revolution.” “By example we must show the way so plain that our children can go neither right nor left but straight to freedom.” “No,” you said. And you left.
No moon floods the memory of that night only the rain I remember the cold rain and praying that like the rain returns to the sky you would return to me again.
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What a fantastic movie! We finally got to see it, and absolutely loved it. Funny, heartfelt, sad at times, and really, really good. I was glad I hadn't read the book beforehand, because that made the entire story a surprise and I enjoyed discovering it. I've became a late fan of Ryan Gosling, thanks to his work in Bladerunner 2049 and Barbie. Who would have thought?
We also watched a Netflix preview screening that I can't talk about. This is the third one, though, with the first one being about 8 months ago. Do they ever rework those movies based on beta-group feedback? Or just scrap the projects? :O
Saturday, we saw My Oxford Year, which we both liked quite a bit. Romances are really hit and miss, but this one was good. Our son was out of town this weekend, so this was a good opportunity. Romances and romantic comedies are not his thing.
In TV series, I've been watching an older detective procedural called Blue Murder on BritBox, which I quite like. But I've veered off temporarily to binge-watch Our Flag Means Death on Hulu. What a bizarre show. Kind of cracktastic, really. I'm mainly in it for Taika Waititi and the weird minor characters. :O
We had quite a bit of rain and wind last week, so I've been biking in the garage more than I'd like. More thunderstorms and lots of rain today, so I'll be in there again in a few hours! There will be a river or two running through the garage, and now that the floor is epoxy instead of the concrete it used to be, it's really risky to go in there on bare feet. The floor always looks wet, which means you can't see when it actually IS wet, and it's as slippery as glass. :(
Time to start a new hour-long series in there, now that I've finished another Harlan Coben thing. Will it be Season 2 of Beef? Season 3 of The Night Agent? Or will I go back to Hulu for Euphoria, despite having to deal with the long commercial breaks?
Founded in 1242 by a grieving duchess after the Mongol devastation of Poland, the abbey began modestly, a Benedictine foothold in uncertain terrain. But time, and the ambitions of successive monastic orders, reshaped it into something far grander. By the 18th century, the complex had blossomed into one of Europe’s most extravagant Baroque ensembles—a kind of sacred theater where architecture, painting, sculpture, and music merge into a single overwhelming gesture.
At its heart stands the Basilica of the Assumption, a structure less built than orchestrated. Its vast interior—nearly 80 meters long—unfolds like a carefully composed illusion, where frescoes climb ceilings and saints seem to hover in midair.
Yet the abbey’s beauty masks a turbulent past. It has been burned by Hussites, scarred by the Thirty Years’ War, and secularized by Prussian decree. During World War II, its quiet halls were used to hide priceless manuscripts: scores by Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. Empires have claimed it, abandoned it, and renamed it; monks have been expelled and replaced; entire populations around it have shifted like sand, and still it remains.
Title: Forget-Me-Not Author:kat_lair Fandom: Venom Pairing: Venom/Eddie Tags: Drabble, Dialogue-Only Rating: G Word count: 100
Summary:I could never.
Author notes: Spring defiance from under the crushing forces of capitalism = a drabble a day in April. This one for stonepicnicking_okapi who wanted something for this pairing and spring flowers. Forget-Me-Not on AO3
Just because something is created with a younger audience in mind, doesn’t mean it can’t be enjoyed by all. After all, whomst among us doesn’t love the idea of magic cats? Author Christian Bieck is here today to show us the result of his NaNoWriMo creation, A Basquet of Cats.
CHRISTIAN BIECK:
At some point early in their writing journey, every writer learns that a good way to start a story is by having an interesting what-if. So one day a few years ago I asked my family, “What if cats had magic?”
“That’s not a what-if,” our son said. He’s a walking encyclopedia, and generally knows what he’s talking about. “Cats do have magic. They can turn invisible.”
“Mrt?” Rex, our ginger tabby, said from behind me.
I turned to him; he was sitting on the back rest of the sofa. “Where did you suddenly come from?” I asked.
“And they have short-range teleportation abilities,” my wife said.
“And some mind magic,” our son said.
Rex said nothing, but his smug look clearly told me I should have known that.
“I did know that,” I said to him. “So what do I do now?”
I’m going at this Big Idea essay all wrong, aren’t I? Let’s try again:
It all started with a family game of Microscope.
For the less nerdy among this blog’s readers, Microscope is a cooperative world-building/setting-creation game. Players create a fictional timeline, and then events and people within that timeline to any depth desired. Afterwards, you can jump in and roleplay a scene.
We set the game in an alternate Earth medieval France. And the “people” to cats—cats that have even more magic than our real-world ones. Our main character was the friend, companion, familiar, however you call it, of a human mage, the Archmage of France and Spain. (Mages obviously also existed at the time.) Other mages were visiting his tower with their own cat companions, and something happened to them: the first event. Now the cats had to find out what had happened. Murder mystery with cats!
We spent a pleasurable afternoon fleshing out the story, as it was, ending up with a stack of index cards, but without an answer to the question what happened to the mages. Didn’t matter, it was fun. That was in December 2019.
Fast forward to late October 2021. An online article reminded me of the annual writing event called National Novel Writing Month, a.k.a. NaNoWriMo, and on the spur of the moment, I decided to take up the challenge and restart my fiction writing after a ten year break. My first NaNo attempt in 2009 had been successful in that I did finish a novel, but less so in terms of quality of output. So around 2011, I had decided to put fiction writing on hiatus and focus on improving my craft through the non-fiction writing I was doing in my day job.
So, what to write for Nano 2021? What if I used that Microscope game as a basis for my novel? What if, on top of their normal, natural magic, there were special cats with special skills? With mind-based magic, a magic that was quite different from that of human mages. And a mind-to-mind connection to said humans. And what if something happens to the main character’s mage, and the protagonist and his friends have to set it right?
I couldn’t find the index cards from the game anymore, but I didn’t really need them. I had my main characters and the inciting incident in my head; the beats in 3 disaster structure were quickly sketched out, and the story of ABasquet of Cats practically wrote itself. With the active help of Rex, and our female gray tabby Neko, who helpfully provided dialogue. (Have you ever had that thing where you look at the companion animals living with you, and comic-style speech bubbles pop up over their head, telling you exactly what they would be saying in that moment? No? I am sure John knows exactly what I mean . . .)
Okay, maybe “wrote itself” is a bit of an exaggeration, because even for a fantasy novel you need a (to naive me) surprising amount of research if your setting is alternate history Earth. What time exactly? (13th century, when Aquitaine was English.) How does the magic work? (No spoilers, just that Basque is the human language of magic, and “Abracadabra” in Basque is “Horrela izango da!”) How close to real cats are my cats? (Close. But they are cats, and that has consequences for the way they see the world. And how they behave. And communicate. And, and, and.) Do other animals feature? (Yes! But the PoVs are all cats!)
And then there was the question: for what audience was I writing Basquet? A story with animal protagonists feels like a kids’ book, so that was my starting point. I ended up writing a story that I would have wanted to read as a teenager, and be happy to re-read at any point later in life: an adventure story, a story of friendship, of responsibility, and of learning to value the good things in life and in relationships. My publisher calls it “For young adults and animal lovers of all ages”, and he’s exactly right.
I dream that Rex and Neko would also read and be pleased with the story.
(Full disclosure: I made up that dialogue at the beginning. But it could totally have happened that way; after all, real-life cats do have magic. Don’t they?)
Yesterday ended up so unexpectedly nice, I wanted to record it.
D messaged me mid-afternoon to say that circuits was happening again that evening. I used to love transgym circuits, I did that as well as lift club almost every week and I've never been happier. But then our usual awesome trainer stopped doing circuits, which is fair enough but I was/am so used to their style and so comfy with it, and then the replacement started doing more of a boxing style fitness class, which was not to my taste (or accessibility needs: my lack of depth perception was posing too much of a problem) and then I kept being busy on those nights or whatever and I just stopped going some time last fall I think.
But I've really missed circuits; I love circuits. It feels like such a good workout for me: I can do even exercises I hate for a minute or two at a time, I never get bored, and I feel at the end like I've really Done Something. I used to have to bring bandanas to tie around my head to keep from getting too much sweat in my eyes, and I forgot to do that last night and really missed it! Because it's hard work.
And most of the people there weren't our usual old circuits people but people I knew from lift club who hadn't been to circuits before (or, did it like once a very long time ago or whatever). Including one of my favorites, who I said I'd meet outside and go in with together. I was really excited for him because I thought he'd love circuits and he did.
And, when I suddenly found myself with plans to be out for the evening I thought I'd start dinner prep right after work -- i did this last Friday when I went to yoga. But as I was still peeling sweet potatoes, D came downstairs, having finished work earlier than usual, and offering to help. So we just made all of my very easy plan for dinner (bangers and mash) and I had plenty of time to eat before going to the gym. It was lovely to spend the time together, it made an easy thing easier but also just so much more fun: being silly together in the nice sunny kitchen (I'm still not used to it being that bright at dinner time! it wasn't totally dark when I was getting showered after the gym, at about 9pm! bliss).
And I'm very glad I was able to eat beforehand: even with V warning me as I left the house "take it easy! you're out of practice!", even though I did take it easy, I was so sore by the time I got home. I knew not to sit down before I got upstairs and in the shower because I'd never stand up again. But I was so happy, too -- and it wasn't just the endorphins making me think that.
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