now *that's* a poem!

Thanks to lalcorn for referring me to the ever-so-cool Goth-O-Matic Poetry Generator, which helped me compose this dark little gem:

Darkness Descends
the night falls in a heavy, suffocating cloak, entwined are we.
the salvation for which you pine
flares once, then dies,
devoured by the all-encompassing dark.
all hope must surely perish.

your soul thrives no more.
how could you fail to believe?
lost souls surround us, crying,
save us from ourselves.

What's the Buzz?

Sue Monk Kidd's novel, The Secret Life of Bees, is coming to the stage.

Detectives ask for help with Bradley Sisters case

I think about Diamond and Tionda Bradley often. I am glad to see that their disappearance is still being investigated.

Commander Sutor of the CPD Central Investigations Detail says, "I'd like to emphasize that it doesn't matter how insignificant or unimportant they think what information they have may be, because that may just be the key, somebody out there knows something, somebody out there knows the whereabouts of Tionda and Diamond Bradley and they need to come forward and these children need to come home."

This troubles me some...

While I freely admit to being fascinated by the (almost) lost art of letter-writing, and while I happily, voyeuristically devour collections of letter, especially those by authors (and, yes, even love letters), it bothers me a little bit that a highly personal love letter by James Joyce is up for auction.

Maybe it is not the reading of so personal a document. That part doesn't bother me overmuch. Rather, it is the idea that it will be sold and can be owned by someone other than its intended recipient. Hmm...

in memoriam

Mary Rodd Furbee, an author of non-fiction books for children, has died at the age of 49. The books I know best by her are the marvelous "Outrageous Women" series...

Clearly, I am a slacker

15 year-old Flavia Bujor has published a best seller. And she has plans for the next one: "I really don't want people to think ... I will always write this kind of book. It was just a beginning... My way of writing has changed a lot. My next book will have to be different, because I am different."

You cannot unknow something

I wish I had never read a biography of J. M. Barrie, but I did.

Now the Globe and Mail has an article emphasizing the parallels between Barrie and Michael Jackson....

Someone with *way* more patience than I...

...has made Shakespeare (and others) out of origami!

Free Scoop Night!

It's almost time for the 5th Annual Free Scoop Night at Baskin Robbins! You get free ice cream and First Book gets more books.

Win-Win all the way!

Neil Gaiman's Acceptance Speech

When Neil Gaiman won the Nebula Award for the marvelous Coraline, Harlan Ellison accepted on his behalf. And had to read the speech Neil had preprared, which is now on Mr. Gaiman's web journal and reads, in part:

...I'd like to thank Harlan for accepting the award on my behalf. The knowledge that the person reading the acceptance speech will actually say whatever I write here is deeply intimidating. Think about it: for the first time in my life, possibly for the first time in anyone's life, I can make Harlan Ellison say, literally, anything. And he will. Because it's my acceptance speech. He's not going to extemporise here, or suddenly start telling a joke about a duck trying to buy a condom or something. He has to read what I've written. I could make him proclaim his love of the Republican party, or reveal his membership in Al Quaida. I could write down the words "I, Harlan Ellison, am actually a science fiction writer" in my awards speech, and he'd have to say them. I wouldn't actually do any of this, though, because Harlan's revenge would be swift in coming and incredibly funny whenever he told people about it. Well, incredibly funny for everyone except me, anyway. I'd still be in Hibernia, pursued by enraged lascars and apothecaries....

Scott Fitzgerald stuff

For anyone who doesn't yet know, let me just say that I love Scott Fitzgerald. I love his work but, even more, I love his letters. When I was at GSU, I used to snag a tiny table in a deserted corner of the library at night, get the book of his letters from the shelf, and spend hours poring over them. The man who came through those letters was often witty and warm, but could be critical and off-putting, too. I was fascinated.

Later, while in library school, during one of our visits to a local used book store (made while ditching Library Automation), I found a copy of the letters for a measly $5. I was thrilled. The book immediately joined the elite collection of books I keep on a shelf by my bed.

I have since accepted that he was likely not the Romantic hero I held him to be -- although that view was tarnished fairly early on. I accepted that it was unfair of me to hold a grudge against Papa (whom I have also since come to love) for his seeming unpleasantness toward Scott.

But I still think he wrote great letters.

All of this rambling on about Scott just to tell y'all that the New York Times is running a story about the years he spent in Hollywood, the screenplays he produced, and the heartbreaking lack of success that seems one of the unfortunate hallmarks of his life.

librarians sharing ideas

Thanks to Nat for directing me to one librarian's take on how to keep patrons from coming behind the reference desk:

"We set up a Task Force to come up with a solution, and that group quickly determined that we could try a passive solution (barriers and other fortifications) or an active one.

Three active ones immediately identified were poison
gas, small arms fire, and mines..."

It's not enough that the pay stinks and you get little respect...

It's official: "Poets die young -- younger than novelists, playwrights and other writers, a U.S. researcher said on Wednesday."

"How can I keep from singing?"

There is a lovely interview with Pete Seeger at Acoustic Guitar Central. It's not new (2002), but it was new to me. Maybe to you, too...

SIGH

I just have one comment:

If you are lucky enough to make a living writing, don't be dumb enough to get convicted for tax evasion.

Thank you.

It's never too late to make things right with your local library

Another library patron makes good:

VALLETTA, Malta (Reuters) - A former British Royal Air Force employee has returned a history book to the Malta public library 42 years after he borrowed it and was given a cup of coffee instead of a fine.

Ernie Roscouet, a resident of the Channel Islands, inadvertently packed the book when he left Malta in June 1962 and returned it when his wife gave him a holiday to Malta as his 65th birthday present.

"It's actually been on my conscience all this time," he told the Times of Malta newspaper.

Although he expected a fine he was given a cup of coffee instead.

"Perhaps this story will encourage others to bring back overdue books," librarian Joe Debattista said.

Tales of a librarian...

Yay! I get to be Tori, who named her most recent album in honor of librarians! Good enough for me.

Which Rock Chick Are You?

Two sides to every story...

Garrison Keillor tells the story of the "Mighty Casey" from the point of view of the opposing team in his poem, "Casey at the Bat (Road Game):"

So happy were the Dustburg fans that grand and glorious day,
It took a dozen cops to help poor Casey away,
But we grabbed hold of the bumpers and we rocked him to and fro
And he cursed us from inside the bus, and gosh, we loved it so!

Oh sometimes in America the sun is shining bright,
Life is joyful sometimes, and all the world seems right,
But there is no joy in Dustburg, no joy so pure and sweet
As when the mighty Casey fell, demolished, at our feet.

observation

Dressing up in a bunny suit with full bunny face makeup for a pajama storytime with the theme Books and Bunnies is lots of fun.

When, just after the storytime ends (when you're still dressed as a bunny), a tornado is sighted and you have to round up all the adult patrons (who are cranky at having had to get off the computers and come down to the basement) into the storytime room -- and almost all the kids have left by then... Yeah, that's a little bit less fun.

But only a little bit.

interview

A new interview with Lois Lowry is now available.

Spring = Baseball

When The Boy was wee, we read this poem by Ernest L. Thayer too many times to count. I still think it's one of the best story poems ever:

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville--mighty Casey has struck out!

I *thought* it didn't look so good...

In his review of the film Ella Enchanted, Orson Scott Card writes:

"Here’s a helpful hint. If you haven’t read the marvelous young adult novel by Gail Carson Levine, do not read it before seeing the film.

Because if you have read the book, you will spend the first half of the movie absolutely furious at the idiotic, formulaic destruction of the story by the screenwriters.

They have taken a witty, warm, truthful story and for no intelligible reason formulized it and camped it up so that almost nothing from the original survives – except the fundamental premise of a girl who is magically compelled to obey any direct order.

Unfortunately, since they did keep the title and the premise, it will be virtually impossible for anyone to ever make a film that is actually based on the novel Ella Enchanted. So this “pod movie” has effectively killed and replaced the real thing as it might have existed on the screen."

Tigerlily Smallburrows of Sandydowns

I know nothing about Hobbits, but I love my Hobbit name! (Thanks to lalcorn for the link.)

Do you ever have days like this? *I* do!

I have neglected to post a poem each day of National Poetry Month (bad Kitten!). Today, though, we have another selection from "The Hunting of the Snark" by Lewis Carroll:

He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
With his name painted clearly on each:
But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
They were all left behind on the beach.

The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pairs of boots--but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.

Reversing Vandalism

Cool art exhibit rose from the ashes of a vandal at the San Francisco Public Library.

Calloo! Callay!

Which children's author wrote me?


Lewis Carroll!


Which Children's Author Wrote You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I chortle in my glee!

"Dr. Seuss Origami"

Cute animation of a Dot and her origami puppy.

Run, run, as fast as you can!

Gentle readers, I beseech you, if you are near Chicago, go with all haste to the AIC for the Rembrandt exhibit!

The Boy and I went Friday morning. Neither one of us was too excited, but we figured we had a duty to go since I get free member tickets and he *is* considered one of the venerated "Old Masters" of art.

The exhibit started out kind of slow for us. *Lots* of etchings, which were fine, but didn't blow us away or anything. The etching plates were pretty amazing, though.

Side note: At one of the first etchings, I said, "Huh. That's kind of good." Then I heard myself, looked at The Boy -- who was ready to openly mock me -- and said, "Oh. My. God. I must be on crack! Are we at a Rembrandt exhibit and I just said, 'That's kind of good?!" He nodded and proceeded to give me the mocking I so rightfully deserved.

So, we were looking at the etchings, being suitably impressed, making snide comments to each other about the many, many visitors from the Smithsonian who were crowding around, examining the etchings with magnifying glasses, taking a looong time to do so, while we waited patiently for a chance to see. Then, finally, we came to a painting, "Samson Betrayed by Delilah."

Damn.

I don'y know that I can articulate what happened then. My best friend likes to say that something "rocked her world" when someone is sneak-attacked and blown away by something. This painting definitely rocked my world.

It was so good, it made me cry.

It wasn't the subject matter, for all I love the Bible and am fascinated by the stories therein. Rather, it was the light. The way the light fell on Delilah's foot, the way her purple gown shimmered and looked alive.

I can't even say. My words are not adequate to convey how much the world was too much with me then. I was moved and humbled by the genius.

And it was Every. Single. Painting.

No wonder he is revered. Surely he was Apollo in a previous life?

Damn.

The moral of that story? For me, it was to take advantage of my membership and go see every exhibit, even if I think I don't care. Yeah, we made it through the Manet show in something like eight minutes flat. However, Rembrandt kept us captivated for over three hours. If I hadn't had somewhere else to be, we might have stayed all day!

music video

Someone has created an oddly cute anime style video for the Me First and the Gimme Gimmes cover of "I Believe I Can Fly," based on the actual video.

Not sure what to read next?

Check out the Celebrity Reading List, compiled by the Gardiner Public Library in Maine.

One of the oddest things I've seen in a while

Burger King's new website that allows you to "get chicken just the way you want it."

Somehow, this really bothers, rather than entertains, me...

Poor Henry...

So, this woman just came down asking for books about my beloved Henry Thoreau. I, of course, got excited and started talking about him.

This led to much mocking. Actually, the woman who originally needed the book didn't give a fiddler's fart about dear Henry. She was taking a class and was not pleased she had to read him. Blah.

My Super Page didn't know who he was, so I was telling her how incredible he is, that Walden was the best book ever. Yes, even better than Lewis Carroll.

I spoke about Civil Disobedience and how he inspired Gandhi and Dr. King. I confessed that I want to one day name a son Henry. I told Super Page that I had a poster of early American authors, including Henry, in my room.

I revealed my extreme geekiness.

I don't care. I am a book geek and I don't care who knows it!

We had one other patron down here who laughed at me. She said that she thought she loved books, but I had her beat. I told her that I know I'm a book geek, that I even sojourned to Concord a few years ago to absorb the literary energy.

I think I really entertained her. On her way out, she was laughing and said, "She's gonna name her baby Henry!"

Sigh.

Well, I guess if I am to be mocked, it could be for worse things...

poem o' the day

I love the night, the moon. (There is a lovely Maurice Sendak quote I would like to plug in here, but I have the memory of a lab rat... I will look for it for tomorrow...) So, for today, Robert Bly's poem, "The Moon:"

After writing poems all day,
I go off to see the moon in the pines.
Far in the woods I sit down against a pine.
The moon has her porches turned to face the light,
But the deep part of her house is in the darkness.

Here comes another one

Read all about it: "Comedian Billy Crystal joined the ranks of celebrities peddling children's books on Tuesday with the debut of I Already Know I Love You..."

Kirkus says, "Another celebrity author misses his audience... Picture-book readers will not identify with the adult perspective and the logic of activities..."

Well, it's been a slow news year... right?

Bush will hold his first press conference of the year tomorrow. Well, heck, it's only April...

*I* care!

Today's offering is Allen Ginsberg's poem, "Is About," originally published in the 21/28 October 1996 double issue of The New Yorker:

Dylan is about the Individual against the whole creation
Beethoven is about one man's fist in the lightning clouds
The Pope is about abortion & the spirits of the dead...
Television is about people sitting in their living room looking at their things
America is about being a big Country full of Cowboys Indians Jews Negroes & Americans
Orientals Chicanos Factories skyscrapers Niagara Falls Steel Mills radios homeless Conservatives, don't forget
Russia is about Czars Stalin Poetry Secret Police Communism barefoot in the snow
But that's not really Russia it's a concept
A concept is about how to look at the earth from the moon without ever getting there. The moon is about love & Werewolves, also Poe
Poe is about looking at the moon from the sun
or else the graveyard
Everything is about something if you're a thin movie producer chain-smoking muggles
The world is about overpopulation, Imperial invasions, Biocide Genocide, Fratricidal Wars, Starvation, Holocaust, mass injury & murder, high technology
Super science, atom Nuclear Neutron Hydrogen detritus, Radiation Compassion Buddha, Alchemy
Communication is about monopoly telivision radio movie newspaper spin on Earth, i.e. planetary censorship.
Universe is about Universe.
Allen Ginsberg is about confused mind writing down newspaper headlines from Mars--
The audience is about salvation, the listeners are aBOUT SEX, Spiritual gymnastics, nostalgia for the Steam Engine & Pony Express
Hitler Stalin Roosevelt & Churchill are about arithmetic & Quadrilateral equations, above all chemistry physics & chaos theory--
Who cares what it's all about?
I do! Edgar Allen Poe cares! Shelly cares! Beethoven & Dylan care.
Do you care? What are you about
or are you a human being with 10 fingers and two eyes?

"angelheaded hipsters"

An article about the building where the Beats came together one magical evening and Ginsberg read "Howl" aloud for the first time, Kerouac cheering him on...

tradition

Over the past few years, receiving an Easter egg from The Boy has become one of my favorite Easter traditions. It began, I guess, three years ago, when The Boy was 10. His mother has always let the children decorate an egg for everyone in the family. That year, I noticed that the egg he gave me was decorated with the Green Lantern's insignia (and even a portion of his oath).

The next year, I received a Woody Guthrie egg, complete with a Woody-style drawing of a guitar. Last year's egg was peace-themed. I never want to eat the eggs, thus ruining the art, but at some point, it's eat them or throw them out. Sadly, the pictures I have tried to take never turn out.

When The Boy gave me my egg after church yesterday morning, I was excited, but I tucked it into my purse. When I got home, I carefully unwrapped it to find...

...one of the Mac Nac Feegle (aka the Wee Free Men)! Yay!

Have I mentioned that I utterly adore The Boy beyond all reason?

interview with Gail Carson Levine

Eclipse Magazine has an interview with Gail Carson Levine about the upcoming movie of her award-winning book, Ella Enchanted.

"Built close to water"

That's what my Grandpa used to say about me, since I can tend toward emotion.

I am prone to "Wordsworth moments" (when I feel that "the world is too much with [me]" -- though, to be fair, not in the same way as in the poem... more like things hit me emotionally and it's too much to bear without some expression of that emotion. I don't know if I am making sense at all or just rambling. Let's move on...).

Yesterday was full of such moments. Brian's Hunt was amazing, but kind of horrifying. Unexpected brutality took my breath away.

Then, too, listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, re-reading how the four gospels relay the trial and Crucifixion, and reflecting on those events, led to some fair amount of emotion from me. Whatever belief system one holds, this was a brutal act against a man who, by all accounts, preached love.

So, to Wordsworth:

THE World is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours
And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn,—
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

today's poet: Langston Hughes

April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

woo-hoo!

Yay! Not a *lot* of perks working as a librarian, but I did get dibs on Brian's Hunt by Gary Paulsen (one of my absolute literary heroes). Thank goodness (and Mr. Paulsen) that it's not super long, because I am reading this tonight!

Books are coming -- by train, by backpack, by donkey...

I know that others have blogged this already (in fact, I don't even remember exactly who I am ripping off this link from, so apologies all around), but I felt I would be remiss if I didn't mention the wealth of information about unusual mobile libraries.

"I wander'd lonely..."

When we were in library school, I often dragged my best friend to the bookstore to buy yet another copy of Favorite Poems by William Wordsworth (God bless Dover for the $1 books!) because I would be absolutely overcome with a need to read "Daffodils" immediately. I must have bought (and then given away) about six of those books!

You'd think I'd remember to keep a copy in my knapsack.

You'd be wrong.

Spring is here again and the front of my library boasts a golden sea of these sprightly flowers. Everytime I go upstairs, I am struck by their beauty and my heart is made glad and I start to itch for the Wordsworth book again.

Hence, today's poem:

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

why, indeed?

So, last night, we went to see Jersey Girl. At the end of the film, my friend leaned over and asked, "Why is it that Ben Affleck can only act in Kevin Smith movies and he sucks in everything else?"

I don't know. (Actually, I haven't seen many of his other films, but I liked him in Good Will Hunting and Changing Lanes.)

Regardless, though, we agreed that Affleck was the bomb in Jersey Girl. I know the film is getting mixed reviews, even among some of Smith's fans, but I don't care. I liked it. A lot. It made me laugh; it tugged at my heartstrings; it left me satisfied with this movie-going experience; it made me wonder when it's coming on dvd.

Oh, and it made me wonder if Affleck's character, Ollie, was named after the Green Arrow?

Judy Blume in the news

I loved this quote from a New York Times article about Ms. Blume:

"For her plain-speaking approach to intimate matters, Ms. Blume has been censored and adored."

You may have to sign in, but the whole article is worth a read.

So, where *are* the wmd?

A friend of mine sent me this tip for finding info on the weapons of mass destruction W has been hunting all these long months:

1. Go to Google.
2. Type in "weapons of mass destruction"
3. Click on "I'm Feeling Lucky"
4. Voila! Just what we've suspected all along!

must-read

I have not read it yet, but I just learned that the April 12, 2004 New Yorker contains a profile of Madeleine L'Engle. It's not on the webpage, so get thee to a library (or, if you're lucky, your own mailbox) and check it out...

today's poetry...

Expect lots of excerpts from Lewis Carroll's masterwork this month:

"Just the place for a Snark!'' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

"Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is true.''

found

After 60 years, pieces of Antoine de Saint-Exupery's plane have been found in France: "It's impossible to say if he was shot down, if he lost consciousness, or if he had a mechanical accident," said Patrick Grandjean of the national Department of Subaquatic and Submarine Archaeological Research.

Saint-Exupery, as I am sure you all know, wrote one of the most marvelous books, which I love, The Little Prince. (NOTE: This praise applies to the Katherine Woods translation and not the unlovely, soulless newer translation!)

I was going to include a quote from the book, but I was horrifed to learn that my library does not own it! Since the Woods translation is no longer available, I will have to suss out how to remedy this wretched situation... Hmm...

Public Domain Poetry

I was happy to find a user-friendly poetry site this evening!

how bizarre! (or, i dunno, maybe not so much...)

Bob Dylan is apparently appearing in a new ad campaign for Victoria's Secret. According to Yahoo!, "It's the first time in his 40-plus years as an international star that Dylan has appeared in an ad campaign."

I don't even know what I think of this. I know they were using his song, "Love Sick," in an earlier campaign and I was happy that the song was being played in a venue where it would be heard by a wide audience. It's a great song...

I dunno. Good for Bob, I guess.

one of my favorite spring poems

in Just-

spring       when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles       far       and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far       and       wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

 from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

     the

             goat-footed

balloonMan       whistles

far

and

wee

(e.e. cummings, of course)

Because librarians know everything...

A little girl just walked past the desk at job #2 and I said, "Hi! How are you doin', Miss?"

Her eyes got real big and, in a tone of wonder, she asked, "How did you know my name?"

Turns out her name is Missy.

I told her that it is my job to know stuff and if she needs any help, just to ask. She nodded solemnly and sat down with a book.

Hee.

D'oh!

Another new "scholarly" book about America's favorite dysfunctional family. (I mean our collective favorite dysfunctional family -- The Simpsons, of course -- so don't panic...)

Really? That was *10*years ago?

Wow. I didn't realize that it has been ten years since Kurt Cobain died. (I actually hesitate to say that he killed himself, what with the not-unreasonable speculation about murder and all...)

So, in memory of Kurt, today's poem is from his song, "All Apologies:"

"I wish I was like you
Easily amused
Find my nest of salt
Everything's my fault
I'll take all the blame
Aqua seafoam shame
Sunburn with freezeburn
Choking on the ashes of her enemy...
...All in all is all we are"

(this seemed an appropriate first poem)

from "Forgetfulness" by Billy Collins:

"...Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart."

By the way...

... shame on me for not mentioning National Poetry Month a few days ago!

(I was just gonna say that maybe I will post a poem a day, but knowing my memory, I will forget to do that... Maybe sporadically I will spout poetry this month -- much like I do on my voice mail messages...)

"It was a dark and stormy night."

I may be wrong, but I think that A Wrinkle in Time by the brilliant Madeleine L'Engle is the only book or story to ever successfully use that opening line. And now -- I'm not sure if I am excited or scared -- this amazing story has been made into a film, set to air May 15 on ABC.

Thank God they're protecting us from those dangerous novelists!

Ian McEwan was prevented from entering the US before he could threaten us with prose! Good to know the Department of Homeland Security is doing it's job!

"How many centimeters are a poodle?"

This was my favorite reference question tonight, asked by a six-year-old boy.

And yes, the answer is in the World Book. (Almost everything's in the World Book.)

Toy poodle = 25 cm
Miniature poodle = 25 to 38 cm
Standard poodle = 45+ cm

By the way, that wasn't really what he needed to know. His homework asked, "If a poodle is 1 meter long, how many centimeters is the poodle?" We looked up centimeters. When it dawned on him that the poodle would be 100 centimeters, he exclaimed, "Man! That's big! I'm glad I don't have a poodle!"

Hee.

Sometimes I feel old...

The adorable teen who is our Super Page in Youth Services was just telling us a story which she prefaced with the statement, "The Who made this musical called Tommy..."

In that moment, she just sounded so young and earnest and cute... I had to interrupt her to mock her.

Luckily she has a sense of humor.

Linkage

Thanks to the Ranger, for mentioning this 'blog at The Lost Blogs' Home. He was so kind, he's making me blush!

By the way, while no car can replace Odysseus, I am bonding with the new ride, a 2000 Silver Ford Focus named Santiago (yes, after Hem's Old Man). So, there. You can all sleep a little easier tonight.

Kingdom Hospital not faring well

BBC News reports that Stephen King's Kingdom Hospital is ailing in the ratings. That's a shame; it looked good.

Then again, I am probably fairly representative of the reason it ain't doing so well. I am rarely home on Wednesday evenings, so I decided to tape it. (Possibly unneccessary digression: I love Stephen King. Yes, I confess. I think he's highly underrated and that time will vindicate him. There. I said it, and I'm glad.)

ANYway... I taped it the first week, and then couldn't find time to watch it. The next week, I worked late and forgot to set the VCR. Rats! At that point, I figured, Well, what the heck? No doubt it'll be on DVD some time soon...

Sigh. The BBC reports, "Despite a promising debut, the show steadily lost viewers and pulled in an audience of 5.6 million last week."

Mea culpa. I hope he doesn't just drop it... I'm still wondering how The Plant ends. (For the record, I paid for that every installment -- 2 copies, in fact, one for me and one for my library.)

I've never seen the original...

...but maybe I don't have to, now that I have seen The Exorcist in 30 Seconds (and re-enacted by bunnies). (And tomorrow, when I'm not at the Reference desk, I plan to watch The Meatrix...)

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy...

John Updike is the winner of the 2004 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction for his short story collection, "The Early Stories." Yay. I had a professor who used to tell us that Updike would be our next American author to win a Nobel Prize. I wouldn't be a bit surprised.

I *hate* when they screw with my books!

Salon has a fascinating article (and a fabulous picture) on the abridgement of children's books, although this author is altogether more (ahem) adaptable, and probably more reasonable, than I am on the topic...

Sometimes sadness blindsides me...

Jan Berry, of Jan and Dean fame, died Friday. He was 62 years old.

When I was a little girl, my brothers and I had a Jan and Dean cassette we played incessently. In fact, we probably wore it out! (I am gonna look when I get home tonight to see if it survived our childhood.)

I loved them and thought that they should be way more popular than the Beach Boys! (At the same time, I felt like they were our little secret, which made them extra special.) Today, I am a little bit surprised by how sad I was at this news... and at how swiftly their music came back into my head and heart.

Sigh.

Duck for President!

USA Today has a nice article about one of my favorite picture books. (Well, Hell... If W can do it, I reckon Duck could, too...)

"Libraries Use Internet to Entice Readers"

It's nice to see a story about libraries make it to Yahoo's front page, even if for but a moment...

Is there anything he *can't* do?

I'm looking way forward to reading Elvis Costello's books, the first of which is due out in Fall 2005.

R.I.P. Odysseus

Today, the great big heart of my beloved purple car gave out for good.

Sigh.

Actually, not to make too big a deal out of, what was, after all, a car, for cryin' out loud, I was pretty darned sad when I realized that I would have to buy a new car. NOT just because of the strain on my checkbook, but...

Odysseus and I have had some adventures together. 152,000+ miles worth of adventure, which is what led to today's sudden demise. The engine just wore out.

Yeah, I could have had him fixed for a mere $3000, but when would the trans go? Better to let go as gracefully as I could.

Still, it sucks. :'-(

No 'blogging from me for a few days. Tomorrow, I am heading to Starved Rock for the first in a series of programs for Synergy, which is why a new car was imperative. By the time I get home, I guess I'll know the new car well enough to have named him.

from sad cats to big dogs

A nice profile of the lovely Norman Bridwell at the Boston Globe, wherein he reveals the secret of Clifford's color: "It was red because I happened to have red paint on the drawing table that night."

More on That's Disgusting!

On the publisher's website, they describe the book thusly:

This irresistibly icky book will appeal to kids' love of all things nasty—while charming parents with its wit and energy. Adorable artwork on every spread accompanies simple text. Swallowing a worm, smelling a sock, playing in the cat litter....That's Disgusting!

"Adorable artwork on every spread..." Huh. To me, VIOLATING A CAT is not "Adorable!"

I am definitely planning to write and see what justification they have for marketing this to pre-schoolers. The contact info for the publisher is:

Workman Publishing Company
708 Broadway
New York, NY 10003-9555
212-254-5900 phone
212-254-8098 fax

info@workman.com

'Lit Idol'

Britain's 'Lit Idol' Borrows a Page From TV

Quote o' the moment

"The best slogan I can think of to leave with the U.S.A. would be: 'We can do and we've got to do better than this..'" (Dr. Seuss)

Is it just me?

A colleague of mine told me that the picture I was upset about (see post below) was not as bad as she thought it would be. So... I scanned it so y'all can judge for yourselves. Am I over-reacting?

(Since our ultra-efficient tech staff processed the book before I could send it back, I am stuck with it. I am leaning toward adding it to our office collection, where patrons could have it, but no one would find it by accident...)

Don't forget to vote!

The primary elections are being held in Illinois today. I cast a baleful eye at the alarm clock when it sounded at 5:30 this morning, then remembered and got up to walk to the polling place. Luckily, going so early meant that not many flyer-peddlars were there yet...

Besides the chance to express our individual preferences for the presidential candidates, there are a number of school and library referendums on the ballot in many communities in Illinois. (This always puts me in mind of Barbara Kingsolver. In an essay in her book, High Tide in Tuscon, she talks about how sometimes people without children say they won't vote yes for school or library issues since they have no kids. She reminds us that somebody else's kids will be our doctors, lawyers, mechanics, etc. Knowing that, shouldn't we give them all thes best start we can?)

Whatever your political views, go VOTE today!

And what country are you?

This made me pretty happy: I'm the United Nations, bay-bee!

You're the United Nations!
Most people think you're ineffective, but you are trying to completely save the world from itself, so there's always going to be a long way to go. You're always the one trying to get friends to talk to each other, enemies to talk to each other, anyone who can to just talk instead of beating each other about the head and torso. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, and you get very schizophrenic as a result. But your heart is in the right place, and sometimes also in New York.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Dust and Daemons

Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy is the subject of a thoughtful article in the March 25, 2004 New York Review of Books.

Poet Natan Yonatan dies

Israeli poet Natan Yonatan, who won several Israeli literary awards with works that weaved together themes of nature and war, died Friday near Tel Aviv. He was 81.

Help me!!

I am calling on your collective wisdom to HELP ME with this book!

My library recently got in three picture books by Francesco Pittau. I cannot, for the life of me, remember where I read about these books, where I saw the reviews. I must have seen it somewhere.

I have a pretty high tolerance for yucky stuff. I have never ever, in my whole life, come across a book I have honestly thought should be kept out of the library. Never. I have read books that have deeply disturbed me. I have read books that have seemed to have absolutely no merit whatsoever, literary or otherwise. Still, I didn't think any of them should be kept off the shelves.

And now I am torn.

Most of That's Disgusting, I can get behind. Washing your feet in the toilet? That is disgusting. Making sculptures out of poo? That's disgusting, too. Ditto to eating soap and playing in the litter box. Eww! Disgusting!

But. "Sticking your finger in the cat's behind?" (Yes, IN.)

That's not disgusting. That's disturbed.

I never knew where the mythical line was, but I think it is clearly crossed here. The charming art that reminded me of Lane Smith and made me laugh? Somehow, amazingly, it wasn't funny anymore when the cartoon child's little finger was aiming at the clearly delineated place he could stick it in the cat's behind!

I do NOT want to be a censor. On the other hand (the one far, far from the cat's bottom, thank you very much!), there is no way I find this appropriate even for our YA collection. Sexual violation of household pets? Not funny.

SO. This really should be a no-brainer, shouldn't it? I should just get over the worry of censorship and send the book back, right? But I really like the art and the rest of the book. Is it better to send it back, perhaps with a letter explaining why this book is not appropriate? OR... can I grab my trusty gluestick, glue those pages together, and be done with it?

I feel like I really shouldn't be this conflicted... Anyone? Opinions?

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for!

As promised (or threatened, I guess, depending on your point o' view), I have pictures of my beauteous niece and nephew. (At the right, that's me with Jonathon and Michelle last Sunday.) In fact, I created a whole web page filled with pictures of them from our recent trip to Vegas! They're awfully cute kids and well worth a click of the mouse...

Happy 88th Birthday to Ezra Jack Keats!

"It is clear to me that in writing stories about Peter, Louie, Roberto, Susie and Amy, Ezra was writing about himself and all children who endure through hardship to realize their dreams and use their talent.. In fact, the schools we attended and the neighborhood in which we lived are now inhabited by the very children of whom he wrote.

"I was privileged to have his friendship over almost the entire span of his life. He was cultured, attentive, and curious; he taught me how to look at and read a painting; he kept me in stitches with the humor in his stories, and he encouraged me when I had doubts. He graced my home and enchanted my children. His work has had a profound influence on children’s literature in the twentieth century, and will be loved by children in the next century."

-- from "A Memoir of Ezra" by Dr. Martin Pope, published in Ezra Jack Keats, Artist and Picture-Book Maker by Brian Alderson

Radio, Radio

Yeah, that's the only place I will be hearing Elvis Costello anytime in the near future. I was meant to see him on 1 March, but the Evil Bastards at Ticketmaster neglected to tell me that the concert had been rescheduled until I arrived at the theater that night.

And, of course, the show was rescheduled for 16 March, the night I am hosting a birthday party for Dr. Seuss at the library.

So.

Since I was trying to be a grown-up and at least somewhat fiscally responsible, I decided I couldn't afford two major concerts in less than a week. And by the time I found out EC was cancelled, Dylan was sold out.

DAMN.

I *love* this book!

(At least I used to love it. I read it back in the fourth grade or so. I have vague memories... I really should re-read it soon.)

Thanks to Sulkbrarian, I found out what book I am:

You're Watership Down!
by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Well, what book are you?

Unexpected

"The novels of Philip Pullman, which have been condemned as blasphemous by some critics, should form part of pupils' religious education, the Archbishop of Canterbury said in a speech made public yesterday."

Well, all right then! See? Religious belief can live side by side with literature that makes you think and question! Yay, Archbishop!

Huzzah for Harvard!

Harvard is going to eliminate tuition altogether for low-income students! Someone give them a giant shiny gold star!

Leave him alone...

A pretty good editorial in the Opinion Journal says of Dr. Seuss: "... Geisel himself has become a commodity. But he doesn't need a postage stamp or a star, or more cheesy souvenirs. He needs to be left alone, like innocence itself, so his writings can speak for themselves." While I love wearing my Seuss t-shirt, I pretty much agree.

home again, home again, jiggedy jig

I will spare you all the details of my whirlwind trip to Vegas. Suffice it to say, I had a perfectly lovely time. I was worried that my niece, Michelle, might be a bit reticent to hang with me. (She is eleven months old and we had not yet met.) However, when she arrived at my mother's house Saturday, I said, "Hi, Michelle. I'm your auntie Katharine." She kind of looked at me a bit intently for a moment, considering. Then, she reached for me, wrapped her tiny arms around my neck, put her head on my shoulder, and we were pals. She is pretty quiet, and beautiful, and eats more than any baby I have ever met. (Yet, she really is teeny. Her clothes are all for 6-9 months babies.)

Her brother, Jonathon, has had a grip on my heart since I first met him. He was seven weeks old then and we went and got his first library card and read Chicka Chicka ABC a gazillion times. Now he is 3-1/2 and we read Tacky the Penguin over and over. He was not a crocodile this weekend, rather, a pirate. On Saturday, he wore a bandana on his head, used an old noisemaker as a microphone, and announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen! I give you..." (dramatic pause included here) "... The Pirate Show!" He then danced about, singing, "The pirate show! The pirate show! The pirate show!" It's my new favorite song.

I could probably regale you all with thirty more stories like that, but I know they would be of little interest, so I will spare you. (I'll probably post a picture of my sweeties when I get my pictures back, though.)

Are you there, God?

Disney is going to make movies based on the (deservedly) best-selling books of Judy Blume. I'll try to reserve judgement until there's something to judge, but this makes me a wee bit nervous...

Viva, Las Vegas!

Well, I'm off to Vegas in a few hours. Not my favorite place in the world, but my mother lives there and she turned 50 this week, so... My brothers will also be there, so I'm sure it will be fun. Actually, I am really looking forward to seeing my Buddha Baby nephew (who, at 3-1/2 is not really a baby any more!) and meeting his sister (who will be one next month). I went to buy Jonathon his annual White Sox outfit last night and found a teeny white onesie with pink pinstripes and Sox logo, so Michelle can cheer on the South Siders, too! I think I'll pack my Seuss hat to show Jonathon...

(By the way, we had a great time at the school this afternoon! This time they asked me if I was Dr. Seuss's wife. Hee.)

Some days are cool like that

You know how some days, things keep going wrong and just when you think it can't get any worse, it does?

Isn't it cool when the rare opposite of that day happens along?

I've been having a marvelous day (maybe it's the magical Seuss hat) thus far. I was working on a book order while singing along with Mitch and Mickey off the A Mighty Wind soundtrack when a woman wandered into my office to ask if she could hang a flyer on the community board about an upcoming concert sponsored by the South Suburban Dulcimer & Folk Music Society. I didn't even know we had a folk music society around here!

Kat in the Hat

So today I was to go read Dr. Seuss stories at one of the local grade schools. I wore jeans, a red tee-shirt with the Cat in the Hat fish saying "Don't make me come over there!," red Chuck Taylors, a blazer, and a Cat in the Hat hat. (Normally, I wouldn't go into detail to tell y'all what I wore, but it seems to have been an especial hit today!)

Another reader came at the wrong time -- my time -- so the librarian asked if we would mind sharing the time, each read one story instead of two? No problem. The other reader was a school official, so he was gonna go first.

As the kids filed in, they all saw me and waved. One little boy with cp ran as quickly as he could to me. I saw him coming, crouched down, and got the best hug I have had for a while. A group of third graders were pointing at me and whispering, "Look! It's Dr. Seuss!" One of them, goaded by his pals, finally got up the nerve to come ask me if I was the Good Doctor. I said, no, Dr. Seuss couldn't be there today, so we were going to read his stories for him. That satisfied the boys.

Finally, the kids were settled and it was time for the other reader. Naturally, he chose The Cat in the Hat. I don't want to go into -- ahem -- catty detail. Suffice it to say, I had never been bored by that book before today. He took the full thirty minutes to get through the book, so I am going back this afternoon to read.

On the way back to work, I went to the post office for stamps. The Seuss stamps are gorgeous! A woman came in after me and told me her kids "went nuts" when they saw me go into the post office, yelling, "Look! It's Dr. Seuss!" Hee. She asked if I would come out to the car and say hi to them. I did, and they promised to visit the library in the near future.

So, I get to go back out this afternoon.

Sometimes life is so sweet I can scarcely bear it.

Books are not eggs!

In today's Guardian Unlimited, Philip Pullman argues against the abolition of a recommended retail price for books.

It seems so obvious...

The Books Not Bombs national day of action is today.

Be a Librarian for a Day!

Thanks to Woman's Day Magazine you, too, can live the glamorous life of a librarian, even if for but a day...

Cool Snicket Site

Quidditch.com's Incomplete Guide to Lemony Snicket Allusions is a great place to look when you can't quite place why the names of Jerome and Esme Squalor seem like an inside joke you should be getting...

What a pal!

Playwright Neil Simon received a kidney from "friend and longtime press representative," Bill Evans.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

Today is the Seussentenial! Lots of events are planned this year, including our library's pajama story time this month, which will be a birthday party for the Good Doctor.

(I especially like this calendar, which gives us all 100 ways to celebrate the lasting legacy of Dr. Seuss.)