We've been back three months from our trip to Provence and Langue d'Oc and I was looking at a coffee table book of small towns and villages of France and suffering severe longing for France. The book pictured many of the great scenes we saw on our trip: the bridge of Avignon, the magical view of Carcassonne, Nimes, Orange, La Baux, etc.
You don't travel overseas with four children without a few challenging moments, but those are out of mind at present. Indeed, I looked through the pictures from the digital camera, trying to decide which ones to order and the pictures just reminded me of how much the children loved our temporary village life, or how excited they got about castles and Roman ruins.
In short, I could happily go back today. Alas, there is this little thing called the inn and sadly, I'm just over the financial hangover of our last trip. The whole thing set us back nine or ten thousand dollars. We don't travel extravagantly, but when you've got six people, well, you know how it goes.
I've got that solo trip this fall and I could return to France or choose somewhere else entirely, but for now, I just want to repeat the trip I already had.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Circus Bears
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 7 of a 737 part series
One fall morning I was walking through the yard with a rake in my hand when a guest, sitting on the back deck, says, "You might be careful if you go down to the woods. I saw a bear down there."
"Really?" I asked. "Where?"
I mean, I suppose it's possible. There are plenty of bears in the valley, but I've never seen one on the property. We're on an island of sorts, with the road wrapping around one side and a creek and a river marking the other boundaries. It keeps out almost all the larger animals. But still, it's bound to happen sooner or later.
"It was down in the bushes. I think it might have escaped from the circus."
Huh? The circus? You saw a bear in the mountains of Northern New England and your first thought was circus?
"Yeah, he elaborated. It had some sort of rope around its neck."
I wasn't buying it, but I went into the woods to have a look. My nerves were on edge as I heard something crashing around down there. Soon, the so-called bear revealed itself. It was a black lab with a collar and leash that he'd chewed through. The leash was hopelessly tangled in the bushes.
Okay, so let's say it was dawn when the guy went into the woods and still dark among the trees. And he was already thinking bear, so when he saw something large and black he turned and fled. But dude. It was a dog.
One fall morning I was walking through the yard with a rake in my hand when a guest, sitting on the back deck, says, "You might be careful if you go down to the woods. I saw a bear down there."
"Really?" I asked. "Where?"
I mean, I suppose it's possible. There are plenty of bears in the valley, but I've never seen one on the property. We're on an island of sorts, with the road wrapping around one side and a creek and a river marking the other boundaries. It keeps out almost all the larger animals. But still, it's bound to happen sooner or later.
"It was down in the bushes. I think it might have escaped from the circus."
Huh? The circus? You saw a bear in the mountains of Northern New England and your first thought was circus?
"Yeah, he elaborated. It had some sort of rope around its neck."
I wasn't buying it, but I went into the woods to have a look. My nerves were on edge as I heard something crashing around down there. Soon, the so-called bear revealed itself. It was a black lab with a collar and leash that he'd chewed through. The leash was hopelessly tangled in the bushes.
Okay, so let's say it was dawn when the guy went into the woods and still dark among the trees. And he was already thinking bear, so when he saw something large and black he turned and fled. But dude. It was a dog.
But I thought they were WILD Berries
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 6 of a 737 part series
Two years ago I planted two blueberry bushes and two raspberry bushes. I did this in two waves, so I kept the tags on the bushes at first to help me remember to buy the same species for the sake of pollenization. That first year, the two blueberry bushes had a small crop of berries that I watched daily to see how they were ripening.
About two days before I decided they were optimally ripe, I'm walking around the lower parking lot and I see a guy hunched over one of the bushes on the hill. I went up just as he was popping the last of the blueberries into his mouth. Yes, he had picked and eaten every single berry.
"Oh," he said after I asked him what the hell he was doing. "I thought they were just wild berry bushes."
Right, dumbass. They're planted in a row, surrounded by grass. The base is a mound of mulch to keep out the weeds. And they're still carrying their tags.
Two years ago I planted two blueberry bushes and two raspberry bushes. I did this in two waves, so I kept the tags on the bushes at first to help me remember to buy the same species for the sake of pollenization. That first year, the two blueberry bushes had a small crop of berries that I watched daily to see how they were ripening.
About two days before I decided they were optimally ripe, I'm walking around the lower parking lot and I see a guy hunched over one of the bushes on the hill. I went up just as he was popping the last of the blueberries into his mouth. Yes, he had picked and eaten every single berry.
"Oh," he said after I asked him what the hell he was doing. "I thought they were just wild berry bushes."
Right, dumbass. They're planted in a row, surrounded by grass. The base is a mound of mulch to keep out the weeds. And they're still carrying their tags.
Edits
During early drafts, I don't pay much attention to individual sentences. This is not to say that I don't occasionally write a clever phrase or use a nice bit of description. But getting the story is my number one priorty. Beautiful prose is not my thing. The end result is that by the time I've worked through everything, I have some clunky sentences, some occasional dumb comments, redundancies, and even paragraphs that need surgery.
My final draft is done with hard copy. I've tried to smooth the rough spots as I've encountered them during the main rewrites, but only paper and pen and linear concentration from page 1 to the end can get things ready for submission. It's time-consuming and pure work to first make the edits and then make the changes on the computer.
This final stage cuts my word count by about five percent. This doesn't sound like a lot, but is several thousand words over the course of the novel.
My final draft is done with hard copy. I've tried to smooth the rough spots as I've encountered them during the main rewrites, but only paper and pen and linear concentration from page 1 to the end can get things ready for submission. It's time-consuming and pure work to first make the edits and then make the changes on the computer.
This final stage cuts my word count by about five percent. This doesn't sound like a lot, but is several thousand words over the course of the novel.
Hot and Bothered in the Hot Tub
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 5 of a 737 part series
I'd love to get rid of the hot tub. Keeping an outdoor hot tub is a huge energy drain, and we've spent thousands of dollars over the years maintaining the darn thing. We have to replace the cover about once a year due to guest abuse and it raises our insurance rates.
But in the ski season, one of the first questions out of a prospective guest's mouth is, "Do you have a hot tub?" Once, when another inn down the street had their hot tub break down, we had refugees come stay here because they simply would not stay somewhere without a hot tub.
Here are some crazy things that have happened with the hot tub:
1. People who think they can sneak in after hours (about once a week in winter).
2. People who can't figure out how to use the bar to lift the cover and drag it off onto the deck instead (also about once a week in winter and the reason we have to spend ~450 bucks every winter to replace it)
3. Drunk, noisy people who disturb other guests
4. People who stay in for hours, even though other guests clearly want a turn.
5. People who leave the hot tub open when they leave.
6. I heard roaring laughter once and looked out to see that guests had coaxed their black lab into the hot tub.
7. With serious use, the filters can hold up for about a week before we have to drain and clean, but dirty guests can turn the water absolutely skanky in one evening. Sometimes, I find cigarette butts and other rubbish floating in the water.
8. M went out one night to kick some people out of the hot tub after hours and people were having sex. The guy's butt was sticking out of the water. I've caught other naked people in the hot tub and more than once seen people disengaging from amorous embraces and straightening swimming suits as I've walked by.
Given the above, you can see why I've become hesitant to use my own hot tub unless I've just changed the water. Technically, the filters and chemicals keep the water clean, but the stuff that comes out of the sewage treatment plant is theoretically drinkable, too.
Of course, every other swimming pool and hot tub in the world has other people's sweat, urine, etc., floating around as well, as does any other body of water in which you swim. Nevertheless, actually knowing about it is something else entirely.
I'd love to get rid of the hot tub. Keeping an outdoor hot tub is a huge energy drain, and we've spent thousands of dollars over the years maintaining the darn thing. We have to replace the cover about once a year due to guest abuse and it raises our insurance rates.
But in the ski season, one of the first questions out of a prospective guest's mouth is, "Do you have a hot tub?" Once, when another inn down the street had their hot tub break down, we had refugees come stay here because they simply would not stay somewhere without a hot tub.
Here are some crazy things that have happened with the hot tub:
1. People who think they can sneak in after hours (about once a week in winter).
2. People who can't figure out how to use the bar to lift the cover and drag it off onto the deck instead (also about once a week in winter and the reason we have to spend ~450 bucks every winter to replace it)
3. Drunk, noisy people who disturb other guests
4. People who stay in for hours, even though other guests clearly want a turn.
5. People who leave the hot tub open when they leave.
6. I heard roaring laughter once and looked out to see that guests had coaxed their black lab into the hot tub.
7. With serious use, the filters can hold up for about a week before we have to drain and clean, but dirty guests can turn the water absolutely skanky in one evening. Sometimes, I find cigarette butts and other rubbish floating in the water.
8. M went out one night to kick some people out of the hot tub after hours and people were having sex. The guy's butt was sticking out of the water. I've caught other naked people in the hot tub and more than once seen people disengaging from amorous embraces and straightening swimming suits as I've walked by.
Given the above, you can see why I've become hesitant to use my own hot tub unless I've just changed the water. Technically, the filters and chemicals keep the water clean, but the stuff that comes out of the sewage treatment plant is theoretically drinkable, too.
Of course, every other swimming pool and hot tub in the world has other people's sweat, urine, etc., floating around as well, as does any other body of water in which you swim. Nevertheless, actually knowing about it is something else entirely.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Give Me #1 and #2
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 4 of a 737 part series
Gosh, it's hard to just choose one. We've got so many guests that I'm running into all sorts of crazy things (almost all of which I've seen before). But here is the first for today.
We have a small menu, with eggs, sausage, and toast, and something that varies between blueberry or buttermilk pancakes, cinnamon French toast, or pecan waffles (sometimes Belgian waffles, instead). I've got #3 and #4 marked as English muffin and toasted bagel, respectively, for those who want to order from the menu but don't have much of an appetite. There is always coffee, hot chocolate, milk, juice, cereal, and either muffins or fruit that people can snack on while they wait for their main breakfast.
But there's a menu. Most people understand how to order from a menu, right? So why do so many people say, "Uhm, yes, I'd like one blueberry pancake with some scrambled eggs, but instead of sausage, can I get some bacon?" Or they say, "Can I have one #1 and one #2? But instead of toast on the #1, can I get a bagel? Oh, and can you poach those eggs? Extra sausage, please."
I'm usually pretty accommodating, but if I've got a lot breakfasts to do, forget it.
Gosh, it's hard to just choose one. We've got so many guests that I'm running into all sorts of crazy things (almost all of which I've seen before). But here is the first for today.
We have a small menu, with eggs, sausage, and toast, and something that varies between blueberry or buttermilk pancakes, cinnamon French toast, or pecan waffles (sometimes Belgian waffles, instead). I've got #3 and #4 marked as English muffin and toasted bagel, respectively, for those who want to order from the menu but don't have much of an appetite. There is always coffee, hot chocolate, milk, juice, cereal, and either muffins or fruit that people can snack on while they wait for their main breakfast.
But there's a menu. Most people understand how to order from a menu, right? So why do so many people say, "Uhm, yes, I'd like one blueberry pancake with some scrambled eggs, but instead of sausage, can I get some bacon?" Or they say, "Can I have one #1 and one #2? But instead of toast on the #1, can I get a bagel? Oh, and can you poach those eggs? Extra sausage, please."
I'm usually pretty accommodating, but if I've got a lot breakfasts to do, forget it.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Devil's Deep Update
I'm getting close to the end of my major revisions. I've got the present scene, a couple of other places where I need to tweak existing scenes, and the final additional scene that I haven't yet decided to include because I've got a character reason to include, but no good plot/pacing way to include this. My goal is to finish all of these things except for the final one by next weekend, then resolve this scene while I'm at Toronto. I'd like to also make a good editing pass through the manuscript while I'm at the retreat.
I've submitted the first ~20,000 words to the workshop for review. Assuming I don't hear any major complaints, I'd like to use the first week back to make these changes and another week to go through a hard copy for edits before sending the book to my agent by late August.
I've submitted the first ~20,000 words to the workshop for review. Assuming I don't hear any major complaints, I'd like to use the first week back to make these changes and another week to go through a hard copy for edits before sending the book to my agent by late August.
Early Breakfast
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 3 of a 737 part series
We've got a conference in town this week and one of the rooms checking in last night insisted that we open breakfast early because they've got early events throughout the week. Normally, we serve from 7:30-9:30 on weekends and 8:00-9:30 on weekdays. There are people who want breakfast earlier and those who would just as soon come in at 11:30, but experience has taught that this schedule will satisfy 95% of the guests.
I think they were pushing for a 6:30 breakfast, but this is just too early. The office stays open until 10:00 PM, and we're not asleep until at least 10:30. Now, it takes a good hour in the morning to prep for breakfast, and another half hour to get ourselves bathed, which means we'd have from 10:30 until 5:00 to sleep, roughly speaking.
We finally agreed on 7:00. Not one of the conference attendees came before 7:45 and the woman who insisted on the early opening showed up at 9:15.
And this is my pet peeve with people who want different breakfast hours. It doesn't matter if they say they need an early start or can't eat until later in the morning; at least half the time the guests force us to do that extra work and then don't come in to eat at the scheduled time.
We've got a conference in town this week and one of the rooms checking in last night insisted that we open breakfast early because they've got early events throughout the week. Normally, we serve from 7:30-9:30 on weekends and 8:00-9:30 on weekdays. There are people who want breakfast earlier and those who would just as soon come in at 11:30, but experience has taught that this schedule will satisfy 95% of the guests.
I think they were pushing for a 6:30 breakfast, but this is just too early. The office stays open until 10:00 PM, and we're not asleep until at least 10:30. Now, it takes a good hour in the morning to prep for breakfast, and another half hour to get ourselves bathed, which means we'd have from 10:30 until 5:00 to sleep, roughly speaking.
We finally agreed on 7:00. Not one of the conference attendees came before 7:45 and the woman who insisted on the early opening showed up at 9:15.
And this is my pet peeve with people who want different breakfast hours. It doesn't matter if they say they need an early start or can't eat until later in the morning; at least half the time the guests force us to do that extra work and then don't come in to eat at the scheduled time.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Microhydro
I have energy usage of 2000-5000 KWH per month from the grid at the inn and am thinking of installing a microhydro system to offset some of this usage. I have a stream on one side with ~1000 cfs with 20-25 feet of head and a river on the other with ~4000 cfs and 5-8 feet of head. Unfortunately, I don't own the land on the other side of either river.
I've been doing some reading on the issue and am struggling to answer the following questions.
1. Are there legal/environmental issues with diverting, say 200 gallons/minute from the river and does the fact that I only own the land on one side impact this at all?
2. I've found pricing and information on various generators and equipment, but how expensive is it to hire someone to lay pipe, build the penstock, install the machinery, etc.?
3. I'm assuming that all things being equal, 20 feet of head X 200 gallons would be superior to 5 feet of head X 800 gallons. I'm speaking, of course, not of potential power but the practical considerations of the system (i.e. longer but narrower pipes, a smaller turbine, etc.) Is this an accurate assessment?
My hope is that I could put in a system for, say, $10,000 and with net metering that can span a 12 month period of time, completely eliminate several hundred dollars worth of electricity usage per month. Question is, would that be at all realistic? And would it be worth the effort of jumping through various hoops if such is required to divert flow from the local rivers.
I've been doing some reading on the issue and am struggling to answer the following questions.
1. Are there legal/environmental issues with diverting, say 200 gallons/minute from the river and does the fact that I only own the land on one side impact this at all?
2. I've found pricing and information on various generators and equipment, but how expensive is it to hire someone to lay pipe, build the penstock, install the machinery, etc.?
3. I'm assuming that all things being equal, 20 feet of head X 200 gallons would be superior to 5 feet of head X 800 gallons. I'm speaking, of course, not of potential power but the practical considerations of the system (i.e. longer but narrower pipes, a smaller turbine, etc.) Is this an accurate assessment?
My hope is that I could put in a system for, say, $10,000 and with net metering that can span a 12 month period of time, completely eliminate several hundred dollars worth of electricity usage per month. Question is, would that be at all realistic? And would it be worth the effort of jumping through various hoops if such is required to divert flow from the local rivers.
REDRUM
I don't like to kill things. I know I've mentioned this before, how I use live traps when possible and how I relocate spiders outside. Well, yesterday, I got up close and personal with one of our rodents.
The telecom workers in the apartment checked out for the weekend and the housekeeper told me there was a mouse hiding behind the garbage can in the kitchen. I went down to discover that the mouse wasn't running way because it's fur was stuck in a glue trap that I'd given the workers after they'd reported the mouse. I picked up the trap as the mouse struggled frantically to free itself, wishing that I'd just given them spring traps instead. So how do you kill a mouse in a glue trap? Crush it? Drown it? Just throw it in the dumpster and let it die? No, that last option seemed too cruel.
I dropped the mouse into a bucket and filled the bucket with water. The mouse went nuts and somehow managed to keep its head above water. Feeling wretched now, I flipped over the trap, yet somehow, by stretching, the mouse kept its nose above water. The poor thing was absolutely panicked. I found a stone and used it to pin the mouse and trap to the bottom of the bucket. I came back a few minutes later and disposed of the dead mouse in the dumpster, feeling very guilty.
I have no doubt that mice meet their fate every day somewhere on the property, taken by snakes, owls, and foxes, but I wish the darn things would just stay outside, where they belong.
The telecom workers in the apartment checked out for the weekend and the housekeeper told me there was a mouse hiding behind the garbage can in the kitchen. I went down to discover that the mouse wasn't running way because it's fur was stuck in a glue trap that I'd given the workers after they'd reported the mouse. I picked up the trap as the mouse struggled frantically to free itself, wishing that I'd just given them spring traps instead. So how do you kill a mouse in a glue trap? Crush it? Drown it? Just throw it in the dumpster and let it die? No, that last option seemed too cruel.
I dropped the mouse into a bucket and filled the bucket with water. The mouse went nuts and somehow managed to keep its head above water. Feeling wretched now, I flipped over the trap, yet somehow, by stretching, the mouse kept its nose above water. The poor thing was absolutely panicked. I found a stone and used it to pin the mouse and trap to the bottom of the bucket. I came back a few minutes later and disposed of the dead mouse in the dumpster, feeling very guilty.
I have no doubt that mice meet their fate every day somewhere on the property, taken by snakes, owls, and foxes, but I wish the darn things would just stay outside, where they belong.
Early Morning Visitors
It's been warm the last couple of days, so we've been sleeping with the door open (the one that leads to the upper deck). It's not quite as bad as the howlers that woke us up before dawn every morning in Costa Rica, but we frequently have noisy blue jays fighting over the bird feeder and the day before yesterday a squirrel sat on the railing just inches from the bedroom and chirped at the top of its lungs until I got up to chase him off.
This morning, I woke to a loud meowing. A cat--perhaps having read my blog and offering to help with the rodent problems--was in our bedroom. Not the same cat as the one who appeared in the basement the other day. M unceremoniously showed it the door.
I have no idea where these cats are coming from. We have no neighbors and they either have to cross a highway or one of two rivers to reach the property. I don't want to encourage them with food or attention because I'm afraid I'll find one of them squashed on the road.
This morning, I woke to a loud meowing. A cat--perhaps having read my blog and offering to help with the rodent problems--was in our bedroom. Not the same cat as the one who appeared in the basement the other day. M unceremoniously showed it the door.
I have no idea where these cats are coming from. We have no neighbors and they either have to cross a highway or one of two rivers to reach the property. I don't want to encourage them with food or attention because I'm afraid I'll find one of them squashed on the road.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Last Minute Cancellations
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 2 of a 737 part series
Of all my pet peeves, the careless cancellations are my biggest pet peeve. We have a generous policy, in that I only require five days (up to 3 weeks for holidays and special events) and will only charge the first night if we can't otherwise rent the room and will lose money as a result of the cancellation. In other words, we have to be full at the time of the last-minute cancellation and be unable to fill the room with someone else.
But boy are people irritated when we enforce our policy. We've had two expensive cancellations for the upcoming week. I've turned away several people who wanted to book for the same event that these other two were attending. The first woman made her reservation back in winter, had plenty of time to cancel and then sent two long emails trying to explain why she should be exempt from the cancellation policy. Oh, but of course you'll be able to fill that, so I don't have any worries about paying the cancellation. Right, except that everybody who wanted to come to the event also booked their rooms a long time ago, that's why we had the longer cancellation period.
The second person simply did not bother to show up. I called the number and she called back and insisted that she'd cancelled by phone a long time ago. Oh, but no, she didn't have a cancellation number. How odd, because we didn't have her in the cancellation book or assigned a number either. Believe me, the reservation was unusual enough (they were to come for several days, leave, then come back for a few more days) and in one of our efficiencies, so how could I have forgotten. Nevertheless, we said that if she could show a phone record of a call to our number, we'd refund the cancellation fee. She's not happy about that, either.
Another trick* people play is the medical emergency**: a broken leg, a car accident, a death in the family. One woman wanted to cancel because her uncle had a heart attack. "But he had a heart attack," she kept saying. Okay, but why should we bear the financial burden? Seriously, someone is going to lose money, why us? I never call people on this, because I'm sure that sometimes there is a legitimate medical emergency, but I'm growing less and less likely to let people off the hook. One thing you can be sure is that nobody who pays a cancellation fee will ever come back to the inn, but did I want someone who has cost me money to come back?
What people don't understand is that we're a small place, not a hundred room Holiday Inn. A good chunk of our annual income comes from a handful of holidays and events throughout the year. At best, your reserving a room and not using it is like ordering a meal at a restaurant and then saying, when it arrives, "Sorry, I changed my mind. What, you want me to pay?" At worst, it's a busy restaurant turning people away, having someone no-show, and then having that table sit empty.
Finally, I just want to say, "These are the cancellation rules. Feel free to stay here or somewhere else. It won't hurt my feelings, I promise."
*Another thing that happened recently was a woman calling to cancel last minute saying, "I had a tentative reservation for this weekend..." Tentative? What the hell is that? People want us to commit to hold a room for them, but they don't want any commitment on their end. For this same reason, the rule is simple: no credit card, no reservation. Experience has shown that even someone who says they are "just down the road" is likely to flake out if they haven't given a credit card.
*These medical emergencies almost always happen in the winter, and never when there's fresh snow on the slopes, but when it's turned unexpectedly warm and rainy.
Of all my pet peeves, the careless cancellations are my biggest pet peeve. We have a generous policy, in that I only require five days (up to 3 weeks for holidays and special events) and will only charge the first night if we can't otherwise rent the room and will lose money as a result of the cancellation. In other words, we have to be full at the time of the last-minute cancellation and be unable to fill the room with someone else.
But boy are people irritated when we enforce our policy. We've had two expensive cancellations for the upcoming week. I've turned away several people who wanted to book for the same event that these other two were attending. The first woman made her reservation back in winter, had plenty of time to cancel and then sent two long emails trying to explain why she should be exempt from the cancellation policy. Oh, but of course you'll be able to fill that, so I don't have any worries about paying the cancellation. Right, except that everybody who wanted to come to the event also booked their rooms a long time ago, that's why we had the longer cancellation period.
The second person simply did not bother to show up. I called the number and she called back and insisted that she'd cancelled by phone a long time ago. Oh, but no, she didn't have a cancellation number. How odd, because we didn't have her in the cancellation book or assigned a number either. Believe me, the reservation was unusual enough (they were to come for several days, leave, then come back for a few more days) and in one of our efficiencies, so how could I have forgotten. Nevertheless, we said that if she could show a phone record of a call to our number, we'd refund the cancellation fee. She's not happy about that, either.
Another trick* people play is the medical emergency**: a broken leg, a car accident, a death in the family. One woman wanted to cancel because her uncle had a heart attack. "But he had a heart attack," she kept saying. Okay, but why should we bear the financial burden? Seriously, someone is going to lose money, why us? I never call people on this, because I'm sure that sometimes there is a legitimate medical emergency, but I'm growing less and less likely to let people off the hook. One thing you can be sure is that nobody who pays a cancellation fee will ever come back to the inn, but did I want someone who has cost me money to come back?
What people don't understand is that we're a small place, not a hundred room Holiday Inn. A good chunk of our annual income comes from a handful of holidays and events throughout the year. At best, your reserving a room and not using it is like ordering a meal at a restaurant and then saying, when it arrives, "Sorry, I changed my mind. What, you want me to pay?" At worst, it's a busy restaurant turning people away, having someone no-show, and then having that table sit empty.
Finally, I just want to say, "These are the cancellation rules. Feel free to stay here or somewhere else. It won't hurt my feelings, I promise."
*Another thing that happened recently was a woman calling to cancel last minute saying, "I had a tentative reservation for this weekend..." Tentative? What the hell is that? People want us to commit to hold a room for them, but they don't want any commitment on their end. For this same reason, the rule is simple: no credit card, no reservation. Experience has shown that even someone who says they are "just down the road" is likely to flake out if they haven't given a credit card.
*These medical emergencies almost always happen in the winter, and never when there's fresh snow on the slopes, but when it's turned unexpectedly warm and rainy.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Money
It's an odd fact of our life that our personal finances and our inn finances can be heading in opposite directions. The first winter, we had great snow, tons of occupancy, and we were doing all the cleaning ourselves, so we finished the winter with tons of money in the business account. By the terms of our SBA loan, however, we could only pay ourselves a miserly amount and felt personally poor.
M started telecommuting for her old software company and with the inn covering our housing, our car, our food, and our utilities as business expenses, we had plenty of money to save, spend on nice trips, and didn't feel constrained if we had some other need or desire. In the real world, feeling financially stable, we'd immediately set about expanding these horribly cramped living quarters, but that's a business expense. As I've demonstrated elsewhere, there are so many other facility needs that actually impact paying guests, I just don't feel I can tackle anything substantive in our quarters.
We're also facing a curiously unbusy summer. Numbers are down for May, June, and July, rather significantly so. Admittedly, last summer was our best yet, allowing us to do more than just survive until winter, but spend roughly 20 grand last fall on some insulation work, better lighting in two rooms, and new mattresses for every room in the inn. Of course, winter then proved to be our worst yet, and this summer has dropped off precipitously. Winter is easily explained--it was warm and rainy until mid-January, destroying our Christmas ski business--but I can never figure out summer, why we're busy some times and not busy other times. The end result is that money is going to be oh-so tight until we pay our five figure property tax bill in fall and then survive until Christmas money comes in.
In the meanwhile, M worked some extra hours to meet a work deadline and our personal account is flush. Go figure.
M started telecommuting for her old software company and with the inn covering our housing, our car, our food, and our utilities as business expenses, we had plenty of money to save, spend on nice trips, and didn't feel constrained if we had some other need or desire. In the real world, feeling financially stable, we'd immediately set about expanding these horribly cramped living quarters, but that's a business expense. As I've demonstrated elsewhere, there are so many other facility needs that actually impact paying guests, I just don't feel I can tackle anything substantive in our quarters.
We're also facing a curiously unbusy summer. Numbers are down for May, June, and July, rather significantly so. Admittedly, last summer was our best yet, allowing us to do more than just survive until winter, but spend roughly 20 grand last fall on some insulation work, better lighting in two rooms, and new mattresses for every room in the inn. Of course, winter then proved to be our worst yet, and this summer has dropped off precipitously. Winter is easily explained--it was warm and rainy until mid-January, destroying our Christmas ski business--but I can never figure out summer, why we're busy some times and not busy other times. The end result is that money is going to be oh-so tight until we pay our five figure property tax bill in fall and then survive until Christmas money comes in.
In the meanwhile, M worked some extra hours to meet a work deadline and our personal account is flush. Go figure.
Fall Trip II
I still can't decide what to do this fall after we get rid of the foliage guests. I was checking out Bali today, an exercise that came to a swift conclusion when I priced tickets on Orbitz. Ouch.
I've also been thinking of going back to Costa Rica, but this time to dive. All the diving scenes in Devil's Deep make me want to try out some of the actual dives of Isla del Caño, including Bajo del Diablo, which gives the book its name.
There's always a return to France to improve my French at another French school, or something like Tunisia or Turkey. I have enough time to make a good trip, but not enough time that I want to waste too much time simply travelling. That makes SE Asia tough.
I've also been thinking of going back to Costa Rica, but this time to dive. All the diving scenes in Devil's Deep make me want to try out some of the actual dives of Isla del Caño, including Bajo del Diablo, which gives the book its name.
There's always a return to France to improve my French at another French school, or something like Tunisia or Turkey. I have enough time to make a good trip, but not enough time that I want to waste too much time simply travelling. That makes SE Asia tough.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Dramatic Effect
Michael, from basement: "Can you come down here for a minute?"
M: "Is it important?"
Michael, in serious tone: "Yes."
M, comes down the stairs and stands a few feet away. "What is it?"
Michael: "Look down at the animal right next to your feet."
M leaps back onto the stairs with a look of terror. "What?! Where?!"
Michael: "There, by your feet."
Peering out from beneath the footstool is a timid gray cat. Michael, who is allergic to cats, needs M to come get the cat that has somehow made its way into the basement.
This would have been a more efficient exchange:
Michael: "Can you come down and get this cat, please?"
M, surprised, but not shocked: "There's a cat down there?"
But, speaking as a writer, that would have defused all the tension from the scene. :)
M: "Is it important?"
Michael, in serious tone: "Yes."
M, comes down the stairs and stands a few feet away. "What is it?"
Michael: "Look down at the animal right next to your feet."
M leaps back onto the stairs with a look of terror. "What?! Where?!"
Michael: "There, by your feet."
Peering out from beneath the footstool is a timid gray cat. Michael, who is allergic to cats, needs M to come get the cat that has somehow made its way into the basement.
This would have been a more efficient exchange:
Michael: "Can you come down and get this cat, please?"
M, surprised, but not shocked: "There's a cat down there?"
But, speaking as a writer, that would have defused all the tension from the scene. :)
Gearing Up for the Retreat
Only a little more than a week until I head to Toronto for the retreat. I have tons of stuff left to do before I'm ready, such as dusting cobwebs from the decrepit laptop under the bed to make sure it still works, renting a car, and reading workshop submissions, but I'm mostly focused on what I need to do on DEVIL'S DEEP.
I'm saving a few scene rewrites until Toronto, but right now I've got too much to finish in a week, given the reading and other work I'll have to do when I'm on site. Given how quickly I work when I'm producing first draft material, it's disheartening that I slow to a crawl during this phase. I'm often uncertain how to proceed. I know work needs to be done, but even with a list, the specifics can remain vague. I find myself making a change, then second-guessing myself. When I listen to my beta readers, they make perfect sense, but then some points seem to be about someone else's book, not my own.
In short, bringing confidence to my rewrites is something I'm still working on.
I'm saving a few scene rewrites until Toronto, but right now I've got too much to finish in a week, given the reading and other work I'll have to do when I'm on site. Given how quickly I work when I'm producing first draft material, it's disheartening that I slow to a crawl during this phase. I'm often uncertain how to proceed. I know work needs to be done, but even with a list, the specifics can remain vague. I find myself making a change, then second-guessing myself. When I listen to my beta readers, they make perfect sense, but then some points seem to be about someone else's book, not my own.
In short, bringing confidence to my rewrites is something I'm still working on.
Thanks, Readers
A general thanks for all the comments lately. Traffic is slowly building on the site and I've enjoyed reading your thoughtful responses to my posts. It's nice to feel that I'm having a conversation rather than the feeling that I'm standing on a darkened stage, offering a monologue to an audience that may or may not be there.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
A Wander Around the Property
I took a stroll with the little guy around the property. The woods down by the river is pretty static; the canopy is full and only shade-loving plants like ferns and a few grasses grow underneath them. Around the north edge and the upper yard near the boundary with the woods, however, is a border between trees and grass and supports a lot of bushes, shrubbery, etc that are always in flux. There are a lot more birds there and I frequently see small terrestrial animals exploring the edges. Today, we saw a garter snake.
I also noted that black raspberry bushes have started in a couple of places, perhaps from seeds dropped by the thieving blue jays. There are also a couple of other kinds of raspberries, one of which has nice fruit. I'm tempted to go back in the fall and clear some space around these bushes and trim them back to encourage them to fruit more next year. The danger with brambles is that once they have an uncontested toe hold, they want to take over. Blackberries are the worst, with forbidding thorns and growing into huge, tangled masses that need machinery to tame. But the black raspberries are thorny and tall enough that if I don't pay attention, I'll shortly have a mess. As it is, they can't spread over the other competing plants.
The blackberry bush by the wood pile, on the other hand, runs along the fence and is easily trimmed from both sides of same. My goal is to let it grow until it abuts the wood pile itself, which should increase the current berry yield 5-10X.
I also passed along the spot on the south side where I'd like to build a house. You could easily extend a lane from the current parking lot and the granite ridge would give some nice protection from the road. Cut a few trees and you'd have a view right down to the river.
The problem, of course, is money. Not only would we need enough money to build the house, but also to remodel our current living space to make it either rentable as part of the inn or usable by a more full-time housekeeper, which brings up additional issues. So, unfortunately, the house will remain a dream and we'll stay crammed into this apartment over the inn. Thank goodness for the great outdoor space we enjoy.
I also noted that black raspberry bushes have started in a couple of places, perhaps from seeds dropped by the thieving blue jays. There are also a couple of other kinds of raspberries, one of which has nice fruit. I'm tempted to go back in the fall and clear some space around these bushes and trim them back to encourage them to fruit more next year. The danger with brambles is that once they have an uncontested toe hold, they want to take over. Blackberries are the worst, with forbidding thorns and growing into huge, tangled masses that need machinery to tame. But the black raspberries are thorny and tall enough that if I don't pay attention, I'll shortly have a mess. As it is, they can't spread over the other competing plants.
The blackberry bush by the wood pile, on the other hand, runs along the fence and is easily trimmed from both sides of same. My goal is to let it grow until it abuts the wood pile itself, which should increase the current berry yield 5-10X.
I also passed along the spot on the south side where I'd like to build a house. You could easily extend a lane from the current parking lot and the granite ridge would give some nice protection from the road. Cut a few trees and you'd have a view right down to the river.
The problem, of course, is money. Not only would we need enough money to build the house, but also to remodel our current living space to make it either rentable as part of the inn or usable by a more full-time housekeeper, which brings up additional issues. So, unfortunately, the house will remain a dream and we'll stay crammed into this apartment over the inn. Thank goodness for the great outdoor space we enjoy.
Monday, July 23, 2007
People are Like This
This article shows why I distrust this sort of reductionism.
Simply put, the theory behind it goes like this: We all naturally tend to process information, solve problems and relate to others in a particular way, and such inclinations roughly correspond to four different quadrants of the brain -- two on the right, two on the left. These preferences are like mental defaults your brain automatically resorts to when evaluating the world unless otherwise prompted and most people employ some combination of quadrants.
• "A" quadrant (upper left): People who favor this area are analytical, mathematical, logical problem solvers. Drawn to statistics and the workings of machinery, they can overanalyze a situation so much they have trouble taking action.
• "B" quadrant (lower left): These people are controlled, methodical, disciplined sticklers for structure and routine. Punctual and neat, they always have a plan, timetable and calendar with appointments penciled in.• "C" quadrant (lower right): Lower-right thinkers are emotional, spiritual and focused on people and human connection.
• "D" quadrant (upper right): "D" types are strongly visual and easily bored, attracted to new ideas, fun and risk taking.
But I'm not like any of these personality types. I'm analytical and mathematical (A), but I'm not the sort to overanalyze. I frequently jump in feet-first, for better or worse. I like statistics, but am not overly interested in the inner workings of machinery.
I'm definitely not B, as I am not a calendar type of person, with the exception of my writing, but only there through necessity. I don't even wear a watch, prefer not to carry a phone, never wake up to an alarm clock, etc.
I'm not C, even though I like people and connections, because I'm not overly emotional or spiritual.
And I'm not D, as I'm no strongly visual or easily bored, or like risk taking, even though I do like new ideas and fun.
I remember having a guest lecturer in one of those dumb required required GE classes in college, who assigned us all colors based on our personality types. I started to argue with the classification system and she said, "Of course you would argue, because you're a RED personality." We use the system to prove the system.
Slipshod Workmanship
I'm continually frustrated by the underlying shoddy construction of this place. Some has to do with some cutting corners done by the original builder, but most can be traced to the previous owners of 17 years. Whenever I have to repair or replace anything, I can guarantee that the previous repair work was done in the cheapest possible way.
Our back deck and porch provide a great example. The darn things are not sitting on poured concrete footings, but are supported by cinder blocks. Over time, these have been sinking into the ground, leaving the surface uneven. It's only visible in one place at the moment, but when we put these new doors in, they simply would not fit. We had to expensively alter the door frame and the doors themselves in order to get them in. The cost of this one kludge alone is more than enough to offset whatever savings the previous owner realized by supporting the deck and patio on cinder blocks.
This is one case where the free market needs guidance in order to function properly. Obviously, it's tough to do anything about slipshod do-it-yourself projects, but in the case of new construction, what the market wants and what's good for future owners and the health of a community are two different things. It's not just the new owner that will be paying for poor insulation or a weak foundation, but future owners. And neighborhoods of tract homes look run down after thirty or forty years because it's really tough to keep those homes looking nice.
We can get into questions of functional design of communities, as well, given that our current strip-mall and subdivision paradigm of development is both ugly and non-functional over the long run, but for the moment, enforcing strict building codes is a necessity.
Our back deck and porch provide a great example. The darn things are not sitting on poured concrete footings, but are supported by cinder blocks. Over time, these have been sinking into the ground, leaving the surface uneven. It's only visible in one place at the moment, but when we put these new doors in, they simply would not fit. We had to expensively alter the door frame and the doors themselves in order to get them in. The cost of this one kludge alone is more than enough to offset whatever savings the previous owner realized by supporting the deck and patio on cinder blocks.
This is one case where the free market needs guidance in order to function properly. Obviously, it's tough to do anything about slipshod do-it-yourself projects, but in the case of new construction, what the market wants and what's good for future owners and the health of a community are two different things. It's not just the new owner that will be paying for poor insulation or a weak foundation, but future owners. And neighborhoods of tract homes look run down after thirty or forty years because it's really tough to keep those homes looking nice.
We can get into questions of functional design of communities, as well, given that our current strip-mall and subdivision paradigm of development is both ugly and non-functional over the long run, but for the moment, enforcing strict building codes is a necessity.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Scene Maps
Juggling multiple viewpoints is one of my favorite skills to practice in writing a novel. I like to ratchet up tension by advancing the plot by switching to different characters/plot threads, while taking the time to explore what motivates my different characters, both good and bad.
No question that it's tricky to get it right. One thing that helps is to make what I call a scene map. I write down every scene in the book, then go back through and color-code the POVs.
For example:
Ch7:
Scene10: Pardo puts drops in Lett’s eye.
Scene11: Wes and Becca talk about badge, Lt. Stiles.
Chapter8:
Scene12: Wes meets Aunt Charlotte, goes through Davis’s photos, finds receipt
Chapter9:
Scene13: Becca breaks up with boyfriend, almost run off the road
Scene14: State Certification scene, Wes invites Becca to Costa Rica
It's useful to look at this document as a whole, noting where characters drop off the map for several chapters, or who gets more weight than I had intended.
No question that it's tricky to get it right. One thing that helps is to make what I call a scene map. I write down every scene in the book, then go back through and color-code the POVs.
For example:
Ch7:
Scene10: Pardo puts drops in Lett’s eye.
Scene11: Wes and Becca talk about badge, Lt. Stiles.
Chapter8:
Scene12: Wes meets Aunt Charlotte, goes through Davis’s photos, finds receipt
Chapter9:
Scene13: Becca breaks up with boyfriend, almost run off the road
Scene14: State Certification scene, Wes invites Becca to Costa Rica
It's useful to look at this document as a whole, noting where characters drop off the map for several chapters, or who gets more weight than I had intended.
Oh, They're REALLY Little
Crazy Things Guests Say and Do: Part 1 of a 737 part series*
One of my least favorite things is when people try to hide details from us when making a reservation. They say there will be four people in the room and yet, mysteriously, six come in for breakfast. Sometimes, someone will sneak a dog into the room after saying they didn't have a pet. I'm not sure why, since we have pet rooms and only charge an additional $5 for a pet.**
The most common feint is when people are coy about the number/age of their children. The following raise warning flags.
"Two adults and a couple of children."
"Two young children."
Once, I asked how old the woman's "couple of children" were and she wouldn't give me a straight answer. "Oh, they're REALLY young."
"How old are they?" I repeated.
"Really little."
"How little? What are their ages?"
"Twelve, ten, and eight."
Yes, her "couple of children" were practically still in diapers. Hard to believe that such babes gobbled up so many eggs, pancakes, cereal, hot chocolate, muffins, and juice. And they must be truly precocious, that their parents would let them hang out alone for hours in the hot tub.
Another thing that happens regularly is the five and four year old kids look remarkably like eight and six year olds when they come into breakfast. I have kids. I know what a four year old looks like. Really.***
*I feel the need, yet again, to point out yet again that only about 5% of guests are annoying, but with dozens of people coming through here every week, they crop up frequently.
**I had someone ask if we took animals. Yes, in some rooms. "How about a horse?" she asked. A horse?? I also turned away someone with eight dogs. She was pissed, because they were small dogs, "And probably don't weigh as much as a single lab!"
How many vocal cords do they have? Do they go to the bathroom 1/8th as often as a lab? Do they bite and chew and bark 1/8th as much as a big dog? Really, you're surprised that a pet-friendly place won't take 8 dogs?
***The reason this matters is that we charge $10/person over the initial two, but don't charge for children 6 and under. Practically speaking, I often won't charge for a seven year old midweek, or if they have, say, a seven and a nine year old, I'll only charge for one of them. Still, don't lie, please.
One of my least favorite things is when people try to hide details from us when making a reservation. They say there will be four people in the room and yet, mysteriously, six come in for breakfast. Sometimes, someone will sneak a dog into the room after saying they didn't have a pet. I'm not sure why, since we have pet rooms and only charge an additional $5 for a pet.**
The most common feint is when people are coy about the number/age of their children. The following raise warning flags.
"Two adults and a couple of children."
"Two young children."
Once, I asked how old the woman's "couple of children" were and she wouldn't give me a straight answer. "Oh, they're REALLY young."
"How old are they?" I repeated.
"Really little."
"How little? What are their ages?"
"Twelve, ten, and eight."
Yes, her "couple of children" were practically still in diapers. Hard to believe that such babes gobbled up so many eggs, pancakes, cereal, hot chocolate, muffins, and juice. And they must be truly precocious, that their parents would let them hang out alone for hours in the hot tub.
Another thing that happens regularly is the five and four year old kids look remarkably like eight and six year olds when they come into breakfast. I have kids. I know what a four year old looks like. Really.***
*I feel the need, yet again, to point out yet again that only about 5% of guests are annoying, but with dozens of people coming through here every week, they crop up frequently.
**I had someone ask if we took animals. Yes, in some rooms. "How about a horse?" she asked. A horse?? I also turned away someone with eight dogs. She was pissed, because they were small dogs, "And probably don't weigh as much as a single lab!"
How many vocal cords do they have? Do they go to the bathroom 1/8th as often as a lab? Do they bite and chew and bark 1/8th as much as a big dog? Really, you're surprised that a pet-friendly place won't take 8 dogs?
***The reason this matters is that we charge $10/person over the initial two, but don't charge for children 6 and under. Practically speaking, I often won't charge for a seven year old midweek, or if they have, say, a seven and a nine year old, I'll only charge for one of them. Still, don't lie, please.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Cheap is Junk
Ten years ago I injured my feet. M and I were in England, having successfully pawned off our son with my parents and we were enjoying all of the activities we had not enjoyed on our previous trip, when we’d had a two year old to entertain. Chief among these were walking tours. We’d done a walking tour in Bath, followed by one in Oxford, before moving on to London.
As we left Oxford, I wrote, “This has been fun, but my feet are worn down to bloody stumps at the end of my legs.”
Here is what I wrote the following day, “If yesterday was the wearing of my feet into bloody stumps, today was soaking those wounds in a nice, warm salt and vinegar bath. We started with a tour of Westminster Abbey before rushing out to the two hour walking tour. Hello bloody stumps!”
It was nothing that a few days rest wouldn’t cure, I figured, and we were on our way back to the United States the next day. Sure enough, my feet gradually healed themselves, but I noticed something disturbing. They were now much more prone to getting sore. I could walk a much shorter distance before it grew painful to continue. Once, after pushing a little too hard, I stretched my plantar fascia, an injury which took a week of hobbling with a cane to heal.
It was then that I decided to upgrade my shoes. No more twenty dollar shoes from Walmart, I thought. A friend had recommended Rockports and I went online and bought a pair. They were about a hundred dollars, which was a painful amount to spend on shoes.
Or so I thought at the time. The Rockports proved to be my first real wake up call that cheap means cheap. A pair of twenty dollars shoes might last six months. A pair of a hundred dollar shoes might last for years. Indeed, my Rockports have never broken apart, but have gradually lost their tread as I’ve walked it off. If we didn’t have such a throw-away culture, it would be easy to find a shoe repair shop to replace the tread.
So the end result was that I had a superior pair of shoes, including being much more comfortable, and they lasted much longer. Just as importantly, high quality shoes, I discovered, cost less to wear over the long run, than the cheap stuff.
This was my first discovery of what I call the Cheap is Junk Principle: Cheap products break down quickly, take more effort to own, and are ultimately more expensive.
I have since discovered that the Cheap is Junk Principle extends to almost every product imaginable. We used to own a used car that had been inexpensive to buy but came from that era of American automobiles between roughly 1980 and 1995 where quality had not been a priority. After suffering the umpteenth repair bill in the previous two years, I tallied up the expense of the car and realized that we could have made a payment on a new car with the repair bills we had paid out, plus the initial cost of the car averaged over five years. We got rid of the wagon at once and bought a Honda, which never offered a whisper of problem, was much more enjoyable to drive and didn’t drain time and energy as the old car had.
Walmart is the prime peddler of junk in our society. I have bought CD players, waffle makers, toasters, etc., at Walmart and seen them only last a few months. And so I have tried to move away from that.
Buy a junky coffee maker and you’ll get lousy coffee in a machine that will need to be replaced in about a year. Buy something three times as expensive and you’ll be enjoying superior coffee for many years. Buy a shirt at Walmart and it may cost ten dollars but the threads might start falling out the first time you wear it. The Land’s End shirts I have bought do not lose their buttons and do not wear out in the wash; I have been buying them for several years now and have yet to throw one away.
This is a lesson we once understood. How many of us still have the blender or hand mixer made in the sixties and once belonging to our parents? Do you think a Walmart hand mixer will still be around in forty years?
The problem is that low prices are seductive. We don’t think of the cost of those low prices, be they depressed wages, our manufacturing bleeding overseas, our landfills filling up with the detritus of our throw-away culture. That’s simple human nature. What’s not so understandable is that we are not able to weigh the very-personal benefits of having a high quality product that will give us better use for much longer.
I only learned this lesson myself when my aching feet insisted upon it.
As we left Oxford, I wrote, “This has been fun, but my feet are worn down to bloody stumps at the end of my legs.”
Here is what I wrote the following day, “If yesterday was the wearing of my feet into bloody stumps, today was soaking those wounds in a nice, warm salt and vinegar bath. We started with a tour of Westminster Abbey before rushing out to the two hour walking tour. Hello bloody stumps!”
It was nothing that a few days rest wouldn’t cure, I figured, and we were on our way back to the United States the next day. Sure enough, my feet gradually healed themselves, but I noticed something disturbing. They were now much more prone to getting sore. I could walk a much shorter distance before it grew painful to continue. Once, after pushing a little too hard, I stretched my plantar fascia, an injury which took a week of hobbling with a cane to heal.
It was then that I decided to upgrade my shoes. No more twenty dollar shoes from Walmart, I thought. A friend had recommended Rockports and I went online and bought a pair. They were about a hundred dollars, which was a painful amount to spend on shoes.
Or so I thought at the time. The Rockports proved to be my first real wake up call that cheap means cheap. A pair of twenty dollars shoes might last six months. A pair of a hundred dollar shoes might last for years. Indeed, my Rockports have never broken apart, but have gradually lost their tread as I’ve walked it off. If we didn’t have such a throw-away culture, it would be easy to find a shoe repair shop to replace the tread.
So the end result was that I had a superior pair of shoes, including being much more comfortable, and they lasted much longer. Just as importantly, high quality shoes, I discovered, cost less to wear over the long run, than the cheap stuff.
This was my first discovery of what I call the Cheap is Junk Principle: Cheap products break down quickly, take more effort to own, and are ultimately more expensive.
I have since discovered that the Cheap is Junk Principle extends to almost every product imaginable. We used to own a used car that had been inexpensive to buy but came from that era of American automobiles between roughly 1980 and 1995 where quality had not been a priority. After suffering the umpteenth repair bill in the previous two years, I tallied up the expense of the car and realized that we could have made a payment on a new car with the repair bills we had paid out, plus the initial cost of the car averaged over five years. We got rid of the wagon at once and bought a Honda, which never offered a whisper of problem, was much more enjoyable to drive and didn’t drain time and energy as the old car had.
Walmart is the prime peddler of junk in our society. I have bought CD players, waffle makers, toasters, etc., at Walmart and seen them only last a few months. And so I have tried to move away from that.
Buy a junky coffee maker and you’ll get lousy coffee in a machine that will need to be replaced in about a year. Buy something three times as expensive and you’ll be enjoying superior coffee for many years. Buy a shirt at Walmart and it may cost ten dollars but the threads might start falling out the first time you wear it. The Land’s End shirts I have bought do not lose their buttons and do not wear out in the wash; I have been buying them for several years now and have yet to throw one away.
This is a lesson we once understood. How many of us still have the blender or hand mixer made in the sixties and once belonging to our parents? Do you think a Walmart hand mixer will still be around in forty years?
The problem is that low prices are seductive. We don’t think of the cost of those low prices, be they depressed wages, our manufacturing bleeding overseas, our landfills filling up with the detritus of our throw-away culture. That’s simple human nature. What’s not so understandable is that we are not able to weigh the very-personal benefits of having a high quality product that will give us better use for much longer.
I only learned this lesson myself when my aching feet insisted upon it.
Can People Change?
Change is the hallmark of good characterization. Some obstacle, self-reflection, or blow causes the character to reevaluate his motives and behavior. By the the end of the book the character is someone different, for better or worse.
But how much does this happen in real life? Certainly, our perspective changes with time and maturity, but does one's personality ever change. Almost everyone has run into a high school friend ten or twenty years later and thought, "He's exactly the same as he always was." When families get together they play out the same roles that they did as children.
Someone who knows me well might describe me as outgoing, sarcastic, cynical, friendly, talkative, gentle, analytical, imaginative, independent, impatient*, passionate, self-reflective, loyal, impulsive, confident about some things, doubting about others, quick to forgive but slow to forget, internally rather than externally motivated, with mild manic/depressive cycles and occasional bouts of melancholy interspersed with optimism. I think anyone who knew me well twenty years ago could have made the exact same assessment.
Personally, I don't think I make the same mistakes that I did when I was younger (self-reflection being one of my own personal characteristics), but I make the same kind of mistakes. They usually result from my impulsive, occasionally overly optimistic nature combined with my inability to be externally motivated. I can target individual weaknesses, but my personality seems hardwired, unlikely to ever change.
But if you're only talking about superficial changes, such as Bob was once an alcoholic, but now he's sober, this doesn't change Bob's addiction-prone personality. So what does this mean for realistic fiction?*
*And, ironically, it may be my cynical side drawing me to this conclusion.
**Added this critical one when I tried to ask M. if she agreed and faced about ten interruptions.
But how much does this happen in real life? Certainly, our perspective changes with time and maturity, but does one's personality ever change. Almost everyone has run into a high school friend ten or twenty years later and thought, "He's exactly the same as he always was." When families get together they play out the same roles that they did as children.
Someone who knows me well might describe me as outgoing, sarcastic, cynical, friendly, talkative, gentle, analytical, imaginative, independent, impatient*, passionate, self-reflective, loyal, impulsive, confident about some things, doubting about others, quick to forgive but slow to forget, internally rather than externally motivated, with mild manic/depressive cycles and occasional bouts of melancholy interspersed with optimism. I think anyone who knew me well twenty years ago could have made the exact same assessment.
Personally, I don't think I make the same mistakes that I did when I was younger (self-reflection being one of my own personal characteristics), but I make the same kind of mistakes. They usually result from my impulsive, occasionally overly optimistic nature combined with my inability to be externally motivated. I can target individual weaknesses, but my personality seems hardwired, unlikely to ever change.
But if you're only talking about superficial changes, such as Bob was once an alcoholic, but now he's sober, this doesn't change Bob's addiction-prone personality. So what does this mean for realistic fiction?*
*And, ironically, it may be my cynical side drawing me to this conclusion.
**Added this critical one when I tried to ask M. if she agreed and faced about ten interruptions.
Friday, July 20, 2007
The Neverending House
If you grew up in a house like mine--old, large, with unused rooms, large, noisy boiler rooms, and a walled-in staircase--you might recognize a recurring dream that I have. In the dream I discover whole wings of the house that I never knew existed, or I am being chased and go into some hidden passageway that leads to a safe room between floors.
I still dream about the old house, even though I haven't lived their for many years, but these days I have similar dreams about the inn. Hey, there's a guest room I didn't know existed. Or maybe, crap, who was sleeping in this room and why hasn't it been cleaned?
The truth, sometimes, is not too far from the dreamworld. This is like a very large house with many rooms and bathrooms, extensive systems that can break down, and most guests treating the place with the same careless attitude that any parent of teenagers would recognize. The end result is an endless series of repairs, many of which, are, by nature, multiples of sixteen. For example, a television is only a few hundred bucks these days, but if you have to replace 16 of them, pretty soon you're talking about real money. We also replaced the mattresses last fall to the tune of 10+ grand.
The latest bill is $1,185. We had some work done on the porch and put in an insurance-mandated gate on the deck, supposedly to keep people from drowning themselves in the hot tub after hours. This bill wouldn't be so painful if I hadn't just paid $8,000 to replace the roof on the lodge.
I still dream about the old house, even though I haven't lived their for many years, but these days I have similar dreams about the inn. Hey, there's a guest room I didn't know existed. Or maybe, crap, who was sleeping in this room and why hasn't it been cleaned?
The truth, sometimes, is not too far from the dreamworld. This is like a very large house with many rooms and bathrooms, extensive systems that can break down, and most guests treating the place with the same careless attitude that any parent of teenagers would recognize. The end result is an endless series of repairs, many of which, are, by nature, multiples of sixteen. For example, a television is only a few hundred bucks these days, but if you have to replace 16 of them, pretty soon you're talking about real money. We also replaced the mattresses last fall to the tune of 10+ grand.
The latest bill is $1,185. We had some work done on the porch and put in an insurance-mandated gate on the deck, supposedly to keep people from drowning themselves in the hot tub after hours. This bill wouldn't be so painful if I hadn't just paid $8,000 to replace the roof on the lodge.
All Suffering IS Soon to End
I didn't believe it when the Jehovah's Witness tract promised, but M. is returning tonight and I can get a few moments respite from 3 1/2 kids on summer break. Yay!
Story Water
A story is like water
that you heat for your bath.
It takes messages between the fire
and your skin. It lets them meet,
and it cleans you!
Rumi
that you heat for your bath.
It takes messages between the fire
and your skin. It lets them meet,
and it cleans you!
Rumi
Ah, Breakfast
There's nothing quite like a good breakfast. Today: fresh eggs, bread delivered from the local bakery, bacon, and two pints of black raspberries I picked from the garden (well, two pints split among five people). I didn't used to be much of a breakfast person, partly because I don't like to cook for one person, and so I ate cold cereal for many years. As the family has grown, and especially now that we run an inn, we have a hot breakfast almost every day.
About those black raspberries. I'm glad to see that the blue jays have moved off. I'm also excited by how much this berry bush is producing in its third year. The first year, my daughter went out and ate every single berry in about two minutes. "But Dad, they were just growing there!" Last year, we had about a pint, and this year we'll probably have about five pints, total. At this rate of growth, I'll be supplying the black raspberries to the whole Eastern Seaboard within ten years.
Okay, maybe not, but I want to grow this bush and its offshoots along the inner fence until we have about five bushes producing at this level. I only wish my blueberry and raspberry bushes were doing as well.
Eating food you've grown yourself is very satisfying, and something I'll miss if I ever move out of a rural environment. You do learn to wash your food very well before you eat it to dislodge clinging bugs.
About those black raspberries. I'm glad to see that the blue jays have moved off. I'm also excited by how much this berry bush is producing in its third year. The first year, my daughter went out and ate every single berry in about two minutes. "But Dad, they were just growing there!" Last year, we had about a pint, and this year we'll probably have about five pints, total. At this rate of growth, I'll be supplying the black raspberries to the whole Eastern Seaboard within ten years.
Okay, maybe not, but I want to grow this bush and its offshoots along the inner fence until we have about five bushes producing at this level. I only wish my blueberry and raspberry bushes were doing as well.
Eating food you've grown yourself is very satisfying, and something I'll miss if I ever move out of a rural environment. You do learn to wash your food very well before you eat it to dislodge clinging bugs.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Onion: Outsourcing Childcare
Report: Many U.S. Parents Outsourcing Child Care Overseas
You know some people would do it if they could.
Music and the Written Word
Writers seem to have one of three attitudes about listening to music while they write. Some say that any music distracts, others listen to instrumental from time to time, but nothing with words, and others, like myself, prefer to write with music in the background. I'm a music writer.
I do select certain songs to match the tone of what I'm writing, but for the most part, the music fades into the background. When I'm in the flow, I could not tell you what has been playing on the ipod. I only notice when I slip a gear and am forced to a halt.
Music serves to unhinge the imagination. The music rubs against the same mental circuits and the end result is like extra current flowing through that region of the brain.
There's no distraction for me in music. Actually, I'm rather immune to background noise in general. Even as I type this, rain is drumming on the metal roof of the porch; the door is open because it's nice and cool outside. There are children racing through the house, screaming about some game or other. I'm able to awaken myself from the trance if there's actual spurting blood; otherwise, I can tune it out.
I do select certain songs to match the tone of what I'm writing, but for the most part, the music fades into the background. When I'm in the flow, I could not tell you what has been playing on the ipod. I only notice when I slip a gear and am forced to a halt.
Music serves to unhinge the imagination. The music rubs against the same mental circuits and the end result is like extra current flowing through that region of the brain.
There's no distraction for me in music. Actually, I'm rather immune to background noise in general. Even as I type this, rain is drumming on the metal roof of the porch; the door is open because it's nice and cool outside. There are children racing through the house, screaming about some game or other. I'm able to awaken myself from the trance if there's actual spurting blood; otherwise, I can tune it out.
The Luckiest Squirrel in the World
I may have to name this one. He's the sole holdout of the squirrels and chipmunks and is recognizable by the way he sits in the same nook on the railing, twitching his tail. I've caught him at least twice in the live trap, but he's figured out that the drop latch is slightly loose on one side. If he keeps nudging it (think of unsticking the stuck candy bar in the vending machine), he can pop it loose and sprint for freedom. I was literally reaching to pick up the trap this morning when he made his latest prison break. He's got quite a mouth and chews me out (or taunts, I'm not sure) as he bounds away.
So let's call him Fluffy Nut, after the red squirrel from our first summer who was apparently lifted off by an owl.
In unrelated animal news, the raccoons have been coming onto the porch at nights and helping themselves to dog food. They're strong and dexterous enough to pry off the lid to the bin. I need to start moving it inside.
I've relocated several toads to the Buddha Garden and noticed a drop-off in the slug damage to the adjacent lettuce patches, which are just a slime, ooze, and snot away at all times.
So let's call him Fluffy Nut, after the red squirrel from our first summer who was apparently lifted off by an owl.
In unrelated animal news, the raccoons have been coming onto the porch at nights and helping themselves to dog food. They're strong and dexterous enough to pry off the lid to the bin. I need to start moving it inside.
I've relocated several toads to the Buddha Garden and noticed a drop-off in the slug damage to the adjacent lettuce patches, which are just a slime, ooze, and snot away at all times.
Explosions and Gunfire
There's a post on Buzz, Balls, & Hype about MJ Rose's impressions after being caught in the steam pipe explosion in NYC yesterday. It reminded me of my recent experience being shot at. The difference is, after awhile, I lost my alarm and started to think of it as a cool, character-building experience for a writer. I was shot at. That's got to be a bonus next time I write a scene with gun play.
I wonder how I would feel if I'd been hit, or if the shooter had been trying to kill me.
I wonder how I would feel if I'd been hit, or if the shooter had been trying to kill me.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Veggie Tales
We've purchased a share in a local farm's produce program, wherein we stop in once a week and pick up whatever assortment of vegetables are in the offering that week. It's been great in that I've had a chance to cook with all sorts of produce that I wouldn't otherwise have tried, including unusual strains of onions and garlic that I'd never even seen before. Tonight, I sauteed some purple carrots with squash and onions. Quite tasty. Our share this week also included kale, lettuce, cabbage, and green beans.
The hardest part is meal planning. There's no advance notice of what's going to be offered at the weekly pick-up. Some stuff is easy to improvise, others, need some planning.
The lettuce is a challenge to use because my garden is producing so much lettuce that I can make a large salad for the entire family every single night. My carrots are also coming along and I might soon face an issue using all of these as well.
The hardest part is meal planning. There's no advance notice of what's going to be offered at the weekly pick-up. Some stuff is easy to improvise, others, need some planning.
The lettuce is a challenge to use because my garden is producing so much lettuce that I can make a large salad for the entire family every single night. My carrots are also coming along and I might soon face an issue using all of these as well.
Continual Process
As I've mentioned before, I'm convinced that the biggest mistake I've made in the past is to let so much time pass between the completion of one project and the next. It's taken a couple of years to come up with an idea, write it, rewrite it, market it, feel glum for awhile, and then realize how I could have done better and start over. I've improved with time, sold shorter stuff, and come very close, but regardless of whether or not the process takes another couple of years or I shortly find myself with a bona fide career, I need to increase my output.
It will be at least six more weeks until I finish my drafts on THE DEVIL'S DEEP, but while I'm waiting for a beta read and to see what comes out of Gibraltar Point, I'm taking some tentative steps toward the next book. This is mostly collecting ideas and turning them over to check them for interest (mine) and potential commercial qualities. As I did with THE RIGHTEOUS and THE DEVIL'S DEEP, I've also got a short list of writing-related goals I want to tackle in this book.
The plan is to get some of the pre-writing done while I go through the rewrite process on the current book. Then, when it is submitted, I'll be ready to start the first draft of the new book. My tentative plan is to finish the first draft of the next book by December 1, which would give me a start date of ~October 1. It sounds overly ambitious, but then again, it always does.
It will be at least six more weeks until I finish my drafts on THE DEVIL'S DEEP, but while I'm waiting for a beta read and to see what comes out of Gibraltar Point, I'm taking some tentative steps toward the next book. This is mostly collecting ideas and turning them over to check them for interest (mine) and potential commercial qualities. As I did with THE RIGHTEOUS and THE DEVIL'S DEEP, I've also got a short list of writing-related goals I want to tackle in this book.
The plan is to get some of the pre-writing done while I go through the rewrite process on the current book. Then, when it is submitted, I'll be ready to start the first draft of the new book. My tentative plan is to finish the first draft of the next book by December 1, which would give me a start date of ~October 1. It sounds overly ambitious, but then again, it always does.
The Glowing Babysitter
I've had precious little time to myself over the last couple of days. The little guy has been going down at roughly the same time as I and waking me up in the morning. The older kids are done with camp and out of school for the rest of the summer. A tip of the hat to all single parents. I don't know how you do it.
The end result is that I've sat the little guy in front of the TV for a few minutes. I could probably foist him off on the older kids for awhile, but they're playing a board game in the front room, and unlike yesterday, when the screams, whines, and complaints sent my blood pressure skyrocketing, they seem to be playing nicely.
The end result is that I've sat the little guy in front of the TV for a few minutes. I could probably foist him off on the older kids for awhile, but they're playing a board game in the front room, and unlike yesterday, when the screams, whines, and complaints sent my blood pressure skyrocketing, they seem to be playing nicely.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Literary Thrillers
My writing could best be thought of as Literary Thriller. The thriller part is easy enough because my stories are plot-driven. There is no greater compliment to me than when someone says they stayed up half the night to finish it. I want tension, I want entertainment.
And because I shy away from saying my books are art, perhaps because literary sounds either too dry or too skilled on the sentence-by-sentence level, I've usually just thought of the books as thrillers. But if you consider either THE RIGHTEOUS or THE DEVIL'S DEEP, I love the characters, I don't shy away from difficult issues, and I try to present my stories with a complexity that goes beyond black and white, good and evil. After all, even the darkest characters are the heroes of their own autobiographies.
So yes, it's literary, and yes, it's a thriller. And that makes me a writer of literary thrillers.
And because I shy away from saying my books are art, perhaps because literary sounds either too dry or too skilled on the sentence-by-sentence level, I've usually just thought of the books as thrillers. But if you consider either THE RIGHTEOUS or THE DEVIL'S DEEP, I love the characters, I don't shy away from difficult issues, and I try to present my stories with a complexity that goes beyond black and white, good and evil. After all, even the darkest characters are the heroes of their own autobiographies.
So yes, it's literary, and yes, it's a thriller. And that makes me a writer of literary thrillers.
Up and Down
The interesting thing about this job is how different the busy times and the slow times can be. There are times when it feels like I'm working around the clock, say, during February, and other times when entire days can go by without a single guest calling or staying.
Today is one of those days. Yesterday morning I had several rooms to cook breakfast for on my own. Today, there is nobody and the phone hasn't rung. It's nice in a way, but this time of year I have to pay a lot of attention to the bank account. Those big bills just keep coming whether the money is here or not.
Today is one of those days. Yesterday morning I had several rooms to cook breakfast for on my own. Today, there is nobody and the phone hasn't rung. It's nice in a way, but this time of year I have to pay a lot of attention to the bank account. Those big bills just keep coming whether the money is here or not.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Ratatouille IV
Trapped and Relocated to Date:
Squirrels: 14
Chipmunks: 4
Rats: 1
Known rodentkind still on premises:
Squirrels: 2
Chipmunks: 1
Other: 1*
*Reported by a guest as "a very large mouse," otherwise known as a rat. The squirrels get all the press, but I'll bet you can guess who I'm most anxious to get rid of.
Squirrels: 14
Chipmunks: 4
Rats: 1
Known rodentkind still on premises:
Squirrels: 2
Chipmunks: 1
Other: 1*
*Reported by a guest as "a very large mouse," otherwise known as a rat. The squirrels get all the press, but I'll bet you can guess who I'm most anxious to get rid of.
All Suffering SOON TO END!
Or so claims the Jehovah's Witness pamphlet left for me by the guests in room #3. The pamphlet looks like a pastoral scene from my neck of the woods with moose, a farm with harvest, snow-covered mountains, and a smiling interacial couple. All done in that odd, instantly recognizable art work.
The woman was a nervous, mumbler although her husband seemed normal enough. They had two children. They didn't give the pamphlet to me, but left it on the dresser of the room. I went in to turn off the AC since the housekeeper has today off.
It's kind of funny timing, given my recent posts about the JWs, but it doesn't bother me so much, considering they left it on the dresser rather than tried to slip it in the nightstand for the next guests. Actually, come to think of it, I'd better check just to be sure.
The woman was a nervous, mumbler although her husband seemed normal enough. They had two children. They didn't give the pamphlet to me, but left it on the dresser of the room. I went in to turn off the AC since the housekeeper has today off.
It's kind of funny timing, given my recent posts about the JWs, but it doesn't bother me so much, considering they left it on the dresser rather than tried to slip it in the nightstand for the next guests. Actually, come to think of it, I'd better check just to be sure.
Judging Merit in One's Own Writing
I've been thinking more about how I judge the merit of my writing. With the caveat that I'm suspicious of any attempt to atomize the creative process, or, in general, suspicious of anything that smacks of business jargon or Myers-Briggs-style metrics, I've found the competence ladder to be a useful tool in considering how one develops as a writer.
The competence ladder goes something like this:
1. unconscious incompetence
2. conscious incompetence
3. conscious competence
4. unconscious competence.
That is, when you start writing (or any other skill) you are bad and unable to recognize how and why (or even if, in many cases) you are bad. As time passes and you read, study, and write, you recognize your own deficiencies. This is the toughest stage because you suck and you know it. After awhile, you may even know how, where, and why you suck.
Eventually, you move to conscious competence. You can put together a competent story but only by thinking about each piece of the puzzle and by retracing your steps many times. Eventually, you are good and you don't have to think about it. You no more think about how to make a good character or how to create tension than you think, "Must type the word 'the.' Let's see, T...H...E. 'The.'" *
So the question is, when you reach the unconscious competence stage, do you still need feedback? Can it be that we're asking our first readers for two different thing?
1. Is it good?
2. How can it be better?
With experience, we can answer the first question ourselves. However, even the best writers can benefit from the comments, brainstorms, and questions of a trusted reader. I go to a workshop every summer and also send out my WIPs to a couple of beta readers. These days, I rarely ask the question, "What should I do?" but I a good critique always gives me new ideas or better recognition of my skills and deficiencies as a writer.
*Note that different skills (say, characterization, setting, structure, etc.) will follow their own competence ladder. I would argue that you can climb the ladder numerous times on the same skill, moving from bad to good to great. Eventually, you will stall at step 1 or 2, being unable to move to the next level of competence.
The competence ladder goes something like this:
1. unconscious incompetence
2. conscious incompetence
3. conscious competence
4. unconscious competence.
That is, when you start writing (or any other skill) you are bad and unable to recognize how and why (or even if, in many cases) you are bad. As time passes and you read, study, and write, you recognize your own deficiencies. This is the toughest stage because you suck and you know it. After awhile, you may even know how, where, and why you suck.
Eventually, you move to conscious competence. You can put together a competent story but only by thinking about each piece of the puzzle and by retracing your steps many times. Eventually, you are good and you don't have to think about it. You no more think about how to make a good character or how to create tension than you think, "Must type the word 'the.' Let's see, T...H...E. 'The.'" *
So the question is, when you reach the unconscious competence stage, do you still need feedback? Can it be that we're asking our first readers for two different thing?
1. Is it good?
2. How can it be better?
With experience, we can answer the first question ourselves. However, even the best writers can benefit from the comments, brainstorms, and questions of a trusted reader. I go to a workshop every summer and also send out my WIPs to a couple of beta readers. These days, I rarely ask the question, "What should I do?" but I a good critique always gives me new ideas or better recognition of my skills and deficiencies as a writer.
*Note that different skills (say, characterization, setting, structure, etc.) will follow their own competence ladder. I would argue that you can climb the ladder numerous times on the same skill, moving from bad to good to great. Eventually, you will stall at step 1 or 2, being unable to move to the next level of competence.
Flying Solo
So M has gone down to Boston for the week, leaving me to run things alone up here. So far, I'm holding up. We had five rooms and about a dozen people for breakfast, and even though they didn't space perfectly, they didn't come in all at once, either.
The little guy did wake up in the night last night, crying, "Mama! Mama!" but I was able to settle him down pretty well. The older kids are done with summer camp and so we'll get a chance to test out the schedule that M devised. I'm a little off from it already since I said they could watch Avatar once the little guy goes down for his nap, which means I've got to rearrange things a bit.
My plan is to work on THE DEVIL'S DEEP during nap time. We'll see how that works out.
The little guy did wake up in the night last night, crying, "Mama! Mama!" but I was able to settle him down pretty well. The older kids are done with summer camp and so we'll get a chance to test out the schedule that M devised. I'm a little off from it already since I said they could watch Avatar once the little guy goes down for his nap, which means I've got to rearrange things a bit.
My plan is to work on THE DEVIL'S DEEP during nap time. We'll see how that works out.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Fundamentalist Religion
One thing about fundamentalist religion is its inability to accept that their may be alternate, equally valid paths in life.
We were on vacation with my parents, siblings, and nephews and neices who are, without exception devout Mormons. When was our turn to bless the food, I said the very UU/agnostic prayer:
"We are grateful for this food, the work of many hands and the sharing of other forms of life."
Stunned, awkward silence answered from the LDS family but I figure the only way to convince people that my choice to leave the church is not laziness or desire for sin is to show an alternate way of looking at the world.
In any event, my eight year old niece later asked me why'd I'd said that "weird" prayer. I gave a "we all think differently" sort of answer and she said, "Is that why you go to the bad church? I mean, the wrong church?"
I later relayed the story to my sister to let her know that I knew she'd been bad-mouthing me. Rather than being apologetic or even embarassed, my sister chuckled and said, in a condescending tone, "Well, that's exactly right now, isn't it?"
We were on vacation with my parents, siblings, and nephews and neices who are, without exception devout Mormons. When was our turn to bless the food, I said the very UU/agnostic prayer:
"We are grateful for this food, the work of many hands and the sharing of other forms of life."
Stunned, awkward silence answered from the LDS family but I figure the only way to convince people that my choice to leave the church is not laziness or desire for sin is to show an alternate way of looking at the world.
In any event, my eight year old niece later asked me why'd I'd said that "weird" prayer. I gave a "we all think differently" sort of answer and she said, "Is that why you go to the bad church? I mean, the wrong church?"
I later relayed the story to my sister to let her know that I knew she'd been bad-mouthing me. Rather than being apologetic or even embarassed, my sister chuckled and said, in a condescending tone, "Well, that's exactly right now, isn't it?"
Ants
On Friday, the woman who had checked into room six a few hours earlier called the office. "Uhm, are there ants in all the rooms?"
Me, somewhat alarmed. "There are ants in your room?"
"Yes, tons of them."
I went down to the room, growing more confused since someone had been in that room the previous night and had said nothing. Neither had the housekeeper mentioned it. Whatever infestation had apparently come on suddenly.
So I got to the room and she spent about five minutes crawling around until she found an ant, which she trapped in an empty Coke bottle to show me. Yes, it was an ant (small, black, nothing alarming) and I believe that she'd seen a couple of others. It hardly seemed the thing to creep someone out and I could move her (hassle and expense aside, given that her room was already well used) but I couldn't guarantee that some other creature wouldn't find its way into her room. Heck, when you walk past the porch light this time of year you're running a gauntlet of thousands of swarming bugs. We live on the edge of the woods in the mountains and, as you've noted from my squirrel posts, you just can't avoid the critters sometimes.
But what can you do? I moved her to another room.
Said guest spent the rest of the weekend sick from something she'd eaten (not here, thankfully) and took many, many calls that had to be transferred through from the office, but I didn't hear anymore complaints about ants.
Me, somewhat alarmed. "There are ants in your room?"
"Yes, tons of them."
I went down to the room, growing more confused since someone had been in that room the previous night and had said nothing. Neither had the housekeeper mentioned it. Whatever infestation had apparently come on suddenly.
So I got to the room and she spent about five minutes crawling around until she found an ant, which she trapped in an empty Coke bottle to show me. Yes, it was an ant (small, black, nothing alarming) and I believe that she'd seen a couple of others. It hardly seemed the thing to creep someone out and I could move her (hassle and expense aside, given that her room was already well used) but I couldn't guarantee that some other creature wouldn't find its way into her room. Heck, when you walk past the porch light this time of year you're running a gauntlet of thousands of swarming bugs. We live on the edge of the woods in the mountains and, as you've noted from my squirrel posts, you just can't avoid the critters sometimes.
But what can you do? I moved her to another room.
Said guest spent the rest of the weekend sick from something she'd eaten (not here, thankfully) and took many, many calls that had to be transferred through from the office, but I didn't hear anymore complaints about ants.
Personal Passion Versus Commercial
There was an interesting discussion on Backspace about whether to write commercial fiction or that which interests you personally. The danger with writing only to please yourself is that the industry is filled with gatekeepers who only let pass those things which will interest a wide audience. Agents and publishers stake their careers and reputations on projects that will earn money and by definition, that which is more commercial will appeal to more readers.
Now, I think it's a huge mistake to work on something that bores you to tears because you think this is what will be the most commercial. First, I believe that if you don't write with love and passion, it doesn't matter how clever the idea may seem. Unless you're a hell of a lot better writer than I am, it's going to suck.
As a writer, you've got dozens, hundreds of stories even that would interest you. Deciding what to write is already a discriminatory act as you focus in on the story that most excite you now, at this exact moment. From a career standpoint, why not also factor in which of those stories, among many that you could tell, would also have commercial value?
Now, I think it's a huge mistake to work on something that bores you to tears because you think this is what will be the most commercial. First, I believe that if you don't write with love and passion, it doesn't matter how clever the idea may seem. Unless you're a hell of a lot better writer than I am, it's going to suck.
As a writer, you've got dozens, hundreds of stories even that would interest you. Deciding what to write is already a discriminatory act as you focus in on the story that most excite you now, at this exact moment. From a career standpoint, why not also factor in which of those stories, among many that you could tell, would also have commercial value?
Stalling...
I've stalled out on DEVIL'S DEEP a little. I've made some changes and have a few other things that could be done, but most of the big stuff is out of the way at this point. I think I need some beta readers to get flowing again. I'm planning to send the entire book to Grant and a more thoroughly line-edited version of the first several chapters to my retreat group. I leave for Toronto in three weeks. Hopefully, I can get enough work done at the retreat and the week or two thereafter that I'll be ready to send it to my agent.
Black Raspberries and Bluejays
It seems that I prefer the black raspberries nice and dark and ripe and the bluejays prefer to eat them light red and underripe.
If I'm not carefuly this is going to turn into a blog complaining about the wildlife up here.
If I'm not carefuly this is going to turn into a blog complaining about the wildlife up here.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Tartes Aux Framboises*
I made tarts tonight, baking tart crusts (one large and numerous miniature crusts), filling them with a homemade custard, and topping them with berries. I used black raspberries from my garden for the big tart and blueberries for the smaller ones.
We go to a u-pick blueberry place every August and get a dozen quarts of blueberries. I make pies, blueberry pancakes, etc. with about half of the blueberries and freeze the rest for future use. They hold up really well if you freeze them at once. I'm down to my last couple of pints, but we're just about at blueberry picking time again.
In any event, the tarts turned out tres délicieux..
*Et tartes aux myrtilles, aussi, forcément.
We go to a u-pick blueberry place every August and get a dozen quarts of blueberries. I make pies, blueberry pancakes, etc. with about half of the blueberries and freeze the rest for future use. They hold up really well if you freeze them at once. I'm down to my last couple of pints, but we're just about at blueberry picking time again.
In any event, the tarts turned out tres délicieux..
*Et tartes aux myrtilles, aussi, forcément.
The Best Place to Be in a Peak Oil Collapse
Someone was asking me to elaborate on my views of the best place to live after a hypothetical Peak Oil collapse.
Russia could probably support its current 150 million population as this is not much higher than what it had 100 years ago. It would have an ugly time fending off the migrating people from other, more densely populated regions, however. Ireland actually has roughly 1/2 the population that it had in 1845, before the Potato Famine, so it's certainly not in as bad a shape in a collapse as England.
France is amazingly fertile and supported a population of 3-6 times that of England in the Middle Ages. Rough times for the Paris region, post-collapse, but France has preserved most of its agricultural land and would be back on its feet before most other European countries.
My vote among the English speaking countries would be New Zealand. Relatively mild climate and fairly low population for its size. Second would be the agricultural regions of the US heartland, especially those areas with ample water and/or close to the Mississippi.
Worst countries and/or regions in the world post-collapse: Japan, England, desert SW of the U.S., southern Florida, India, China, Sub-Saharan Africa, Mexico, the Middle East. All these areas have too many people for their agricultural resources.
Russia could probably support its current 150 million population as this is not much higher than what it had 100 years ago. It would have an ugly time fending off the migrating people from other, more densely populated regions, however. Ireland actually has roughly 1/2 the population that it had in 1845, before the Potato Famine, so it's certainly not in as bad a shape in a collapse as England.
France is amazingly fertile and supported a population of 3-6 times that of England in the Middle Ages. Rough times for the Paris region, post-collapse, but France has preserved most of its agricultural land and would be back on its feet before most other European countries.
My vote among the English speaking countries would be New Zealand. Relatively mild climate and fairly low population for its size. Second would be the agricultural regions of the US heartland, especially those areas with ample water and/or close to the Mississippi.
Worst countries and/or regions in the world post-collapse: Japan, England, desert SW of the U.S., southern Florida, India, China, Sub-Saharan Africa, Mexico, the Middle East. All these areas have too many people for their agricultural resources.
Birds Slowly Returning
I've relocated two more squirrels and two more chipmunks and I think we're down to one squirrel. The birds are slowly returning and getting used to the new feeder. In the last ten minutes I've seen an evening grosbeak, chickadees, a nuthatch, and a pair of tufted titmice (titmouses?). The new feeder may be lousy at getting rid of squirrels, but it actually provides a better view of feeding birds.
Promotional Efforts
There is a huge push in publishing at the moment for authors to act as their own publicity agents. The idea is that they set up their own book tours, their own media appearances, interviews, etc., not to mention having web sites, blogs, and develop that elusive "platform." It's easy to see why publishers like this, why this is a bonus to agents. Plenty of writers have made convincing arguments as to why it's in the author's best interests to do whatever it takes to earn money for his publisher.
Here's an alternate view. Authors may be good at publicity, they may have a charismatic public persona, but there is one thing that they do better than anyone else: tell stories. Instead of going to heroic lengths to sell her newly published book, what if that same author increased her output? That is, instead of producing a book a year for her publisher, she could write two books a year. Assuming the author is already earning out, what better way to make more money for her publisher, for herself, and increase her readership than by producing more quality novels?
Here's an alternate view. Authors may be good at publicity, they may have a charismatic public persona, but there is one thing that they do better than anyone else: tell stories. Instead of going to heroic lengths to sell her newly published book, what if that same author increased her output? That is, instead of producing a book a year for her publisher, she could write two books a year. Assuming the author is already earning out, what better way to make more money for her publisher, for herself, and increase her readership than by producing more quality novels?
A Lazy Consumer
I'm such a lazy consumer. I really need to take that birdfeeder, box it up and send it back for a refund. It obviously doesn't do what it's supposed to. But I haven't done this yet, and if past experience is any guide, I probably won't. I don't know why I just write off my bad (or simply erroneous) purchases instead of returning them for a refund.
I did go to Amazon and post a negative review about the product, but oddly, the review never appeared. I thought that maybe there had been a problem posting it, but when I tried again late yesterday, it said I was only allowed one review.
I did go to Amazon and post a negative review about the product, but oddly, the review never appeared. I thought that maybe there had been a problem posting it, but when I tried again late yesterday, it said I was only allowed one review.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Disengaging from Earlier Drafts
Before I write my first draft, the story elements are free floating, some of them even completely hidden. My job is to collect them, organize them, and fix them in place. Most of these decisions are arbitrary, of course, and other possibilities only disappear as they are superceded by the words as written. At the end of the first draft I have a finished story, one with flaws, but more or less in a complete shape.
The problem is, the first draft reveals structural flaws. Imagine a bridge with a misplaced truss, or an arch bearing too much weight. How do you remove this element without collapsing the whole project? In fact, I often have a problem imagining how key structures can be different, so fixed has the story become in my mind.
I've faced some of this with my first chapter. Yes, the first, critically important chapter. I had a vague sense of unease, hard to define, that has crystallized these past few days. M gave me a first read and she made a similar comment. Today, after a good deal of thinking, largely unproductively, I might add, I came up with a few solutions. One, in particular, I think would be more engaging without creating too many ripples through the rest of the story.
The problem is, the first draft reveals structural flaws. Imagine a bridge with a misplaced truss, or an arch bearing too much weight. How do you remove this element without collapsing the whole project? In fact, I often have a problem imagining how key structures can be different, so fixed has the story become in my mind.
I've faced some of this with my first chapter. Yes, the first, critically important chapter. I had a vague sense of unease, hard to define, that has crystallized these past few days. M gave me a first read and she made a similar comment. Today, after a good deal of thinking, largely unproductively, I might add, I came up with a few solutions. One, in particular, I think would be more engaging without creating too many ripples through the rest of the story.
Supposedly Squirrel Proof Feeder
Uhm, no. It took about 24 hours for the squirrel brain to outwit the designers of this product. The spring mechanism keeps his head out of the seeds but the squirrel possesses these wonderful things called HANDS.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Talent vs. Desire
Someone posted a comment on the Absolute Writes board suggesting it was morally wrong not to write if you had the talent to do so. But just because you're good at writing doesn't mean you're good enough. You might write for years and still fall short. Let's suppose that you never really wanted it anyway, but a high school teacher convinced you that you should devote your life to writing because she liked something you wrote for English class.
And just because you're good doesn't mean that you aren't also good at something else. What if you have the same innate talent for music? If you devote yourself to the violin, does that mean you're betraying your writing? And what if you devote yourself to the violin, but never progress beyond the local chamber orchestra, even though an extra hour or two a day would have seen you playing solos at Carnegie Hall? Is this an immoral waste of your talent?
An important supplement to talent is desire. There's nothing wrong with wanting something else out of life than what your talent suggests.
And just because you're good doesn't mean that you aren't also good at something else. What if you have the same innate talent for music? If you devote yourself to the violin, does that mean you're betraying your writing? And what if you devote yourself to the violin, but never progress beyond the local chamber orchestra, even though an extra hour or two a day would have seen you playing solos at Carnegie Hall? Is this an immoral waste of your talent?
An important supplement to talent is desire. There's nothing wrong with wanting something else out of life than what your talent suggests.
Retreat Plan
What's playing on the ipod: Space Age Love Song, Flock of Seagulls
If you're an aspiring writer, let me recommend attending a retreat/workshop. You might consider something like Clarion or Viable Paradise, but even better would be something you can attend on an annual basis. I go to a weeklong workshop every summer with 5-8 other writers at Gibraltar Point on the Toronto Islands.
For one week every year I am able to leave my other responsibilities behind--father, husband, innkeeper--and focus 100% on being a writer. I write in the mornings, read other people's manuscripts in the afternoons, and attend critique sessions at night. I learn a lot, make good progress on my WIP, and contribute to the professional growth of several friends. Most importantly however, I return from Toronto every year with a renewed sense of purpose.
Last summer, I entered the workshop discouraged; it had been a long time since I'd produced anything meaningful or sold so much as a short story. I emerged with 30-40 pages of notes about THE RIGHTEOUS and enthusiasm for my craft that has seen me through an entire year. Of course, it helped that my readers loved the book, that I had several interested agents, and that the book was fun to write. It helped, too, that I jumped right into THE DEVIL'S DEEP and have enjoyed writing that, too. I'm not sure I would have got this far, though, if I hadn't attended GP last summer and got that initial boost.
I leave for GP again in a little more than two weeks. I have two goals. First is to finish the rewrites of THE DEVIL'S DEEP. Second, I would like to do some early prewriting on the next book, which I plan to write this fall, hopefully finishing a first draft by the end of the year.
If you're an aspiring writer, let me recommend attending a retreat/workshop. You might consider something like Clarion or Viable Paradise, but even better would be something you can attend on an annual basis. I go to a weeklong workshop every summer with 5-8 other writers at Gibraltar Point on the Toronto Islands.
For one week every year I am able to leave my other responsibilities behind--father, husband, innkeeper--and focus 100% on being a writer. I write in the mornings, read other people's manuscripts in the afternoons, and attend critique sessions at night. I learn a lot, make good progress on my WIP, and contribute to the professional growth of several friends. Most importantly however, I return from Toronto every year with a renewed sense of purpose.
Last summer, I entered the workshop discouraged; it had been a long time since I'd produced anything meaningful or sold so much as a short story. I emerged with 30-40 pages of notes about THE RIGHTEOUS and enthusiasm for my craft that has seen me through an entire year. Of course, it helped that my readers loved the book, that I had several interested agents, and that the book was fun to write. It helped, too, that I jumped right into THE DEVIL'S DEEP and have enjoyed writing that, too. I'm not sure I would have got this far, though, if I hadn't attended GP last summer and got that initial boost.
I leave for GP again in a little more than two weeks. I have two goals. First is to finish the rewrites of THE DEVIL'S DEEP. Second, I would like to do some early prewriting on the next book, which I plan to write this fall, hopefully finishing a first draft by the end of the year.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Episode IV: A New Beginning
What's playing on the ipod: Wasteland, Mission UK
I've decided I need to work on the opening to THE DEVIL'S DEEP. Based on early feedback from my first reader, it doesn't grip as well as it should. Unfortunately, this is a common problem for me.
The first decent book I wrote several years ago never got anywhere because it built too slowly for the vaarious editors and agents. And yet for those writer friends, family, etc., who read the book, many told me that they ended up reading late into the night without being able to put it down.*
My current first chapter of THE RIGHTEOUS was an addition after I later realized that the book was not starting with as much excitement as it could. I then rewrote chapter two (previously, chapter one) to bump up the conflict there as well.
I think THE DEVIL'S DEEP might need some of the same treatment.
*Taking this with a grain of salt, given the people telling me same, I've read the book at a later date with somewhat improved objectivity and believe it to be so. Beginning: very slow. Middle and end: exciting and gripping.
I've decided I need to work on the opening to THE DEVIL'S DEEP. Based on early feedback from my first reader, it doesn't grip as well as it should. Unfortunately, this is a common problem for me.
The first decent book I wrote several years ago never got anywhere because it built too slowly for the vaarious editors and agents. And yet for those writer friends, family, etc., who read the book, many told me that they ended up reading late into the night without being able to put it down.*
My current first chapter of THE RIGHTEOUS was an addition after I later realized that the book was not starting with as much excitement as it could. I then rewrote chapter two (previously, chapter one) to bump up the conflict there as well.
I think THE DEVIL'S DEEP might need some of the same treatment.
*Taking this with a grain of salt, given the people telling me same, I've read the book at a later date with somewhat improved objectivity and believe it to be so. Beginning: very slow. Middle and end: exciting and gripping.
High Quality Food
Americans spend forty-six percent of their food budget on meals prepared outside the home. It’s a shocking statistic, but at one time I probably approached sixty to seventy percent of my food budget on meals prepared by other people. Some of this, ironically, came from attempts to rein in my grocery spending.
My strategy when I went to the grocery store used to be to minimize how much money I spent while still getting enough food to survive for the week. I would buy the cheapest loaf of bread, the cheapest cheese, the cheapest kind of apple, milk, etc. Of course, all these foods tasted pretty bad, but when buying for the whole family it felt like I was saving a good deal of money with every trip.
The ironic thing is that at the time we were eating out three or four times a week and at least half the days I would eat out for lunch as well, taking a break with some coworkers to hit up the local Thai or Mexican place. Not only was all of this eating out costing me a lot of money, but restaurant portions are huge and I gained a fair amount of weight. So much of my meals came from either highly processed foods or oversized portions that I frequently felt lethargic and in need of a nap.
A typical day for me was breakfast cereal for lunch, last night’s leftovers or Thai for lunch, and dinner that was divided 50/50 between a home cooked meal or an enormous meal in a restaurant. I knew that I needed to cut down the eating out for several reasons, but it wasn’t until I understood the real motives for spending so much time and money in restaurants.
I realized that part of the reason that I was spending so much money eating out is that the quality of food at home was so poor. Those meals that I had planned usually turned out pretty well, but if I had to make something on the fly, I was frequently stuck with overprocessed food like chips, breakfast cereal, canned soup, etc. When the choice came between taking an apple and a couple of soggy peanut butter sandwiches on cheap white bread for lunch or eating out, of course I would choose to eat out. What if instead I had high quality bread from a local bakery and some good cuts of meat and cheese from the deli, together with fresh tomatoes and a gourmet mustard? Slowly, I started to gain traction in my quest to change my diet.
The permanent switch in our eating habits came when we moved to northern New England. We are in a rural area with a smaller, more expensive array of restaurant choices. Local breads, vegetables, and other high quality food is readily available, however. Because we are at an inn, we have to gear up for breakfast everyday anyway; I can’t describe how much better I function during the morning when I’ve eaten eggs, locally baked bread, and sausage for breakfast than cold cereal. For lunch we sometimes eat leftovers, but also make high quality sandwiches with fresh vegetables. I cook a nice dinner that we all eat together every night of the week. This last week I have made homemade bread, ribs, ham, catfish, squash, mashed potatoes, among other things. Every meal is multi-course with only top quality ingredients. The food gets better and better as my skills and repertoire increase over the years.
And yes, of course our grocery bills have gone up dramatically, but we still spend far less than we did with a restaurant meal. My oldest son’s favorite meal (and one of our more expensive) is usually ribs with garlic mashed potatoes, butternut squash, and a loaf of bread from the local bakery. All of the ingredients together cost maybe $20. How much would this cost for a family of five? Well, I can tell you, since we recently went to a school fundraiser at the local barbecue place and spent about seventy dollars for ribs and potatoes. I overheard my ten year-old son say to his friend, “This is pretty good, but it’s not nearly as good as my dad makes it.”
Gratuitous boasting aside, when you get in the habit of eating all your meals pre-made or restaurant purchased, it’s easy to forget just how easy it is to cook high quality, delicious food. Marketing efforts have managed to convince us that homemade cookies are scooped from a tub of pre-made cookie batter, and that you know your home cooked meal is ready when the microwave goes, ding!
Preparing all of your meals can be time consuming, but so is eating out. By the time you go to the restaurant, wait for a table, wait for your food, and then eat, pay, and go home you have probably spent two hours or more. Even a trip to Taco Bell or McDonalds will probably take you an hour. Now, most people can’t do Rachel Ray style thirty minute meals (a number that doesn’t account for meal planning, either), but there is no reason that you can’t prepare a meal in an hour. More elaborate meals, such as those involving baking or slow cooking take more time, but most of this is just waiting and requires more advance planning than actual work.
Home cooking is not a panacea for either your budgetary or diet problems, but it is cheaper, no more time consuming than eating out, and healthier. We have also discovered the added bonus of involving our children in our meal decisions, which has yielded benefits of teaching our children about nutrition and an important life skill as well as having the family spend more time together in a home environment.
My strategy when I went to the grocery store used to be to minimize how much money I spent while still getting enough food to survive for the week. I would buy the cheapest loaf of bread, the cheapest cheese, the cheapest kind of apple, milk, etc. Of course, all these foods tasted pretty bad, but when buying for the whole family it felt like I was saving a good deal of money with every trip.
The ironic thing is that at the time we were eating out three or four times a week and at least half the days I would eat out for lunch as well, taking a break with some coworkers to hit up the local Thai or Mexican place. Not only was all of this eating out costing me a lot of money, but restaurant portions are huge and I gained a fair amount of weight. So much of my meals came from either highly processed foods or oversized portions that I frequently felt lethargic and in need of a nap.
A typical day for me was breakfast cereal for lunch, last night’s leftovers or Thai for lunch, and dinner that was divided 50/50 between a home cooked meal or an enormous meal in a restaurant. I knew that I needed to cut down the eating out for several reasons, but it wasn’t until I understood the real motives for spending so much time and money in restaurants.
I realized that part of the reason that I was spending so much money eating out is that the quality of food at home was so poor. Those meals that I had planned usually turned out pretty well, but if I had to make something on the fly, I was frequently stuck with overprocessed food like chips, breakfast cereal, canned soup, etc. When the choice came between taking an apple and a couple of soggy peanut butter sandwiches on cheap white bread for lunch or eating out, of course I would choose to eat out. What if instead I had high quality bread from a local bakery and some good cuts of meat and cheese from the deli, together with fresh tomatoes and a gourmet mustard? Slowly, I started to gain traction in my quest to change my diet.
The permanent switch in our eating habits came when we moved to northern New England. We are in a rural area with a smaller, more expensive array of restaurant choices. Local breads, vegetables, and other high quality food is readily available, however. Because we are at an inn, we have to gear up for breakfast everyday anyway; I can’t describe how much better I function during the morning when I’ve eaten eggs, locally baked bread, and sausage for breakfast than cold cereal. For lunch we sometimes eat leftovers, but also make high quality sandwiches with fresh vegetables. I cook a nice dinner that we all eat together every night of the week. This last week I have made homemade bread, ribs, ham, catfish, squash, mashed potatoes, among other things. Every meal is multi-course with only top quality ingredients. The food gets better and better as my skills and repertoire increase over the years.
And yes, of course our grocery bills have gone up dramatically, but we still spend far less than we did with a restaurant meal. My oldest son’s favorite meal (and one of our more expensive) is usually ribs with garlic mashed potatoes, butternut squash, and a loaf of bread from the local bakery. All of the ingredients together cost maybe $20. How much would this cost for a family of five? Well, I can tell you, since we recently went to a school fundraiser at the local barbecue place and spent about seventy dollars for ribs and potatoes. I overheard my ten year-old son say to his friend, “This is pretty good, but it’s not nearly as good as my dad makes it.”
Gratuitous boasting aside, when you get in the habit of eating all your meals pre-made or restaurant purchased, it’s easy to forget just how easy it is to cook high quality, delicious food. Marketing efforts have managed to convince us that homemade cookies are scooped from a tub of pre-made cookie batter, and that you know your home cooked meal is ready when the microwave goes, ding!
Preparing all of your meals can be time consuming, but so is eating out. By the time you go to the restaurant, wait for a table, wait for your food, and then eat, pay, and go home you have probably spent two hours or more. Even a trip to Taco Bell or McDonalds will probably take you an hour. Now, most people can’t do Rachel Ray style thirty minute meals (a number that doesn’t account for meal planning, either), but there is no reason that you can’t prepare a meal in an hour. More elaborate meals, such as those involving baking or slow cooking take more time, but most of this is just waiting and requires more advance planning than actual work.
Home cooking is not a panacea for either your budgetary or diet problems, but it is cheaper, no more time consuming than eating out, and healthier. We have also discovered the added bonus of involving our children in our meal decisions, which has yielded benefits of teaching our children about nutrition and an important life skill as well as having the family spend more time together in a home environment.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
No Heat Wave Here
We've been very lucky and have avoided the heat wave that seems to have the rest of the country in its grip. Right now it's raining and about 60 degrees. We did hit 83 today, which was plenty warm for my taste.
Honestly, I don't understand how people live in places like Las Vegas. Even the lows this week are about 90 and it's reaching 110. I know that 95% of the time you stay in air conditioned spaces, but sooner or later you have to open the car door and get into that oven, or you have to go outside for some purpose. And who wants to live indoors for 6 months of the year?
I've been to St. George, Utah during the summer, which has a similar climate to Vegas. I remember having my feet burn through the soles of my shoes just from the heat radiating from the pavement.
Honestly, I don't understand how people live in places like Las Vegas. Even the lows this week are about 90 and it's reaching 110. I know that 95% of the time you stay in air conditioned spaces, but sooner or later you have to open the car door and get into that oven, or you have to go outside for some purpose. And who wants to live indoors for 6 months of the year?
I've been to St. George, Utah during the summer, which has a similar climate to Vegas. I remember having my feet burn through the soles of my shoes just from the heat radiating from the pavement.
Growth of the Blog
Thanks to my small, but growing band of readers. Apart from April, when I was in France and not blogging, each month has shown growth. As a writer, all I'm really looking for (apart from fame, fortune, and my own private island) is readers to share my ideas and the stories I have to tell.
Thanks for listening.
Thanks for listening.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Dog Ear
I dog ear my books. I dog ear cheap paperbacks and wonderfully bound, limited edition hardcovers. I dog ear library books and books I've borrowed from friends.
And I like to open a book and see someone else's dog ears. It reminds me that a book is like a conversation that people have over the course of years and generations. Someone else has read this book, stopped right here while she went to dinner, or to write on her web log, or to pick up something more interesting.
On the other hand, I hate it when people underline or highlight the text. They've edited the book, told me what was important. I'm not fond of jotted notes in the margins, but I can ignore these easily enough. Underlines force me to place emphasis on words or sentences according to some metric other than the intentions of the author.
And I like to open a book and see someone else's dog ears. It reminds me that a book is like a conversation that people have over the course of years and generations. Someone else has read this book, stopped right here while she went to dinner, or to write on her web log, or to pick up something more interesting.
On the other hand, I hate it when people underline or highlight the text. They've edited the book, told me what was important. I'm not fond of jotted notes in the margins, but I can ignore these easily enough. Underlines force me to place emphasis on words or sentences according to some metric other than the intentions of the author.
Retreat from the Battlefield
There are two red squirrels sitting on the feeder and two chipmunks collecting the seeds that spill from their banquet. The only thing I've caught in the last couple of days are blue jays.
The only thing I can think is that the squirrels have returned from their refugee camp and are now educated as to the perils of the trap.
Final tally of animals caught:
Squirrels: 7
Chipmunks: 2
Blue Jays: 4
Rats: 1
I have just purchased this.
The only thing I can think is that the squirrels have returned from their refugee camp and are now educated as to the perils of the trap.
Final tally of animals caught:
Squirrels: 7
Chipmunks: 2
Blue Jays: 4
Rats: 1
I have just purchased this.
Not Naughty, Just Busy
L is not purposefully naughty. He doesn't draw on the walls to be destructive, but because they're so blank and well, the older kids are drawing on blank paper. Isn't that the same thing? What, you didn't want the dog food emptied out onto the porch? Hey, look what I just learned about scissors!
I meant to write more, but I just looked out to the porch and he's taken an empty bottle of lotion out of the recyling, removed the top and hey, wouldn't you know it, the lotion isn't quite empty. I couldn't get him to eat his pancakes this morning but the lotion seems tasty enough.
I meant to write more, but I just looked out to the porch and he's taken an empty bottle of lotion out of the recyling, removed the top and hey, wouldn't you know it, the lotion isn't quite empty. I couldn't get him to eat his pancakes this morning but the lotion seems tasty enough.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
The Dubai-ing of America
What's playing on the ipod: Frankly, Mr. Shankly, The Smiths
A remarkable transformation is occurring in the desert sheikdom of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. In the ruling elite’s quest to turn the territory into the Singapore of the Middle East, the population is booming, billions in oil wealth is pouring into the country’s relatively free market, and unbelievably opulent projects are springing from the desert sands, such as the world’s tallest building and an exclusive community built on artificial islands in the shape of palm leaves.
More startling, this is just the beginning. A recent study by the government projects that the population of Dubai will reach five million by 2020 from 1.2 million today. Less than twenty percent of the population of Dubai is native born and this percentage will shrivel as the population of the emirate booms. Most of them live in government-built enclaves apart from all the foreigners who surround them.
The question is, why? What on earth do the citizens of Dubai benefit by this influx of millions of non-citizens? And what is the long-term plan for the management of these guests? Will they stay for a stretch and then return to the Philippines, or Pakistan, or Britain? Well, some undoubtedly will, but there will come a time some decades in the future when entire generations of people will have lived their entire lives as guests in Dubai and will undoubtedly begin agitating for official status. Within a blink of an eye, the natives of the emirate will become tiny minorities within their own countries.
The reason that Dubai moves forward with this dubious project is because it benefits the elite of the country. The emirate is essentially a well-run dictatorship and every dollar that flows into Dubai’s banks and every new tower that crowds the skyline boosts the ego and power of the emirate. As it becomes a regional powerhouse through its wealth and prestige, so too, do the elite of the emirate prosper. The citizens of the emirate have no voice in the matter.
The United States faces a similar future, albeit in slow-motion. Even though polls consistently show that Americans, both native-born and naturalized immigrants, want to slow down the rate of immigration, the business and political leaders of the country continue to open the floodgates to large-scale legal and illegal immigration. African-Americans are no longer the largest minority in the country and the margin is growing, non-Hispanic whites will make up less than fifty percent of the population by 2050, schools, hospitals, police departments, and other services across the country cannot keep up with the growing population. Massive immigration depresses wages and open space. And yet the political elite appears deaf to arguments against mass immigration from either the left or the right.
None of this is new, of course. The early settlers of the country were people granted permission by foreign-born land owners, many of whom had never set foot on the continent and had gained possession based solely on ownership by decree. The native-born population of the country, of course, was not consulted. Neither were the millions of slaves brought to the shores in chains by those who didn’t want to pay the going rate for free labor.
Here we are after four hundred years of immigration and very few would see any benefit to bringing in another sixty to a hundred million immigrants over the next twenty years as offered by the immigration “reform” that Congress keeps pushing. We are those who bear the burden of immigration, in our overfilled schools and our neighborhoods struggling to integrate people of a different nationality and language. We are the people whose wages are depressed by cheap programmers from India and day laborers from El Salvador. It doesn’t matter if our ancestors came from Europe, Africa, Mexico, or China, whether they became citizens two centuries or two days ago. We do not benefit from the next hundred million
One can easily imagine a country with half a billion people by 2050 or 800 million by 2100 as some project. It would be a crowded country, with greater stress on our land and water, with energy demands through the roof and cities of strip malls and subdivisions that stretch for hundreds of miles until they join seamlessly with the next city. It’s time to take a pause from this destiny, before we become Dubai writ large. The people of Dubai have little choice in the demographic transformation of their country, as Americans, we do.
A remarkable transformation is occurring in the desert sheikdom of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. In the ruling elite’s quest to turn the territory into the Singapore of the Middle East, the population is booming, billions in oil wealth is pouring into the country’s relatively free market, and unbelievably opulent projects are springing from the desert sands, such as the world’s tallest building and an exclusive community built on artificial islands in the shape of palm leaves.
More startling, this is just the beginning. A recent study by the government projects that the population of Dubai will reach five million by 2020 from 1.2 million today. Less than twenty percent of the population of Dubai is native born and this percentage will shrivel as the population of the emirate booms. Most of them live in government-built enclaves apart from all the foreigners who surround them.
The question is, why? What on earth do the citizens of Dubai benefit by this influx of millions of non-citizens? And what is the long-term plan for the management of these guests? Will they stay for a stretch and then return to the Philippines, or Pakistan, or Britain? Well, some undoubtedly will, but there will come a time some decades in the future when entire generations of people will have lived their entire lives as guests in Dubai and will undoubtedly begin agitating for official status. Within a blink of an eye, the natives of the emirate will become tiny minorities within their own countries.
The reason that Dubai moves forward with this dubious project is because it benefits the elite of the country. The emirate is essentially a well-run dictatorship and every dollar that flows into Dubai’s banks and every new tower that crowds the skyline boosts the ego and power of the emirate. As it becomes a regional powerhouse through its wealth and prestige, so too, do the elite of the emirate prosper. The citizens of the emirate have no voice in the matter.
The United States faces a similar future, albeit in slow-motion. Even though polls consistently show that Americans, both native-born and naturalized immigrants, want to slow down the rate of immigration, the business and political leaders of the country continue to open the floodgates to large-scale legal and illegal immigration. African-Americans are no longer the largest minority in the country and the margin is growing, non-Hispanic whites will make up less than fifty percent of the population by 2050, schools, hospitals, police departments, and other services across the country cannot keep up with the growing population. Massive immigration depresses wages and open space. And yet the political elite appears deaf to arguments against mass immigration from either the left or the right.
None of this is new, of course. The early settlers of the country were people granted permission by foreign-born land owners, many of whom had never set foot on the continent and had gained possession based solely on ownership by decree. The native-born population of the country, of course, was not consulted. Neither were the millions of slaves brought to the shores in chains by those who didn’t want to pay the going rate for free labor.
Here we are after four hundred years of immigration and very few would see any benefit to bringing in another sixty to a hundred million immigrants over the next twenty years as offered by the immigration “reform” that Congress keeps pushing. We are those who bear the burden of immigration, in our overfilled schools and our neighborhoods struggling to integrate people of a different nationality and language. We are the people whose wages are depressed by cheap programmers from India and day laborers from El Salvador. It doesn’t matter if our ancestors came from Europe, Africa, Mexico, or China, whether they became citizens two centuries or two days ago. We do not benefit from the next hundred million
One can easily imagine a country with half a billion people by 2050 or 800 million by 2100 as some project. It would be a crowded country, with greater stress on our land and water, with energy demands through the roof and cities of strip malls and subdivisions that stretch for hundreds of miles until they join seamlessly with the next city. It’s time to take a pause from this destiny, before we become Dubai writ large. The people of Dubai have little choice in the demographic transformation of their country, as Americans, we do.
Weather
What's playing on the ipod: Ride Like the Wind, Christopher Cross (yes, I know, Nathan)
I'm watching the scorching weather out West and very glad that I live in Northern New England. Our daily high has ranged between 68-80 for the last two weeks, with most nights dropping to the low to mid 50s. I'm not a hot weather guy and this is perfect for me.
On the other hand, we've had quite a bit of rain. It keeps things nice and green but it kind of put a damper on the weekend for several rooms of motorcyclists who stayed at the inn over the weekend.
I'm watching the scorching weather out West and very glad that I live in Northern New England. Our daily high has ranged between 68-80 for the last two weeks, with most nights dropping to the low to mid 50s. I'm not a hot weather guy and this is perfect for me.
On the other hand, we've had quite a bit of rain. It keeps things nice and green but it kind of put a damper on the weekend for several rooms of motorcyclists who stayed at the inn over the weekend.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
New Ways of Working
I made good progress today on THE DEVIL'S DEEP, writing one of my three missing scenes and scratching several items off my deficiency list. My word count looks like it's going to be about 85,000 words, very similar to THE RIGHTEOUS. I feel very good about this, as this is very close to what I was shooting for.
I've also begun to think about my next novel. I'm trying to get in the habit of a continual work cycle. In the past, I would write a novel, focus 100% on getting it ready for publication, then submit it and wait and wait and wait. My books were not quite ready at that time and when they came back with lots of nice, encouraging comments (but still passes), I would but stuck for awhile, frustrated. It meant I was writing a new book every 2-3 years.
Frankly, I can and want to write a lot faster than that. I don't know about averaging two books a year over the long haul, but I can certainly manage a book every nine months. Ideally, I'd write a book in 4-5 months, take a couple of months off, then do it again. This is a schedule I could be happy with long term.
I've also begun to think about my next novel. I'm trying to get in the habit of a continual work cycle. In the past, I would write a novel, focus 100% on getting it ready for publication, then submit it and wait and wait and wait. My books were not quite ready at that time and when they came back with lots of nice, encouraging comments (but still passes), I would but stuck for awhile, frustrated. It meant I was writing a new book every 2-3 years.
Frankly, I can and want to write a lot faster than that. I don't know about averaging two books a year over the long haul, but I can certainly manage a book every nine months. Ideally, I'd write a book in 4-5 months, take a couple of months off, then do it again. This is a schedule I could be happy with long term.
Ratatouille III
What's playing on the ipod: Desire, Gene Loves Jezebel
The rodent problem seems to be diminishing. We've relocated five red squirrels and a chipmunk. There's one greedy and overly clever chipmunk left, but I think that's it. We'll see.
I remember seeing a BBC program about fifteen years ago called Daylight Robbery (I, II, and III) about British families and their struggle to keep squirrels away from the feeders. They came up with all sorts of devices, most of which failed. I found myself rooting for the squirrels. And what's wrong with a squirrel or two?
The problem is, as I've discovered with my own feeders, is that squirrels are greedy. The red squirrels just sit there eating and eating and eating. The chipmunks will stuff their cheeks, cache them somewhere, then return for more. Both kinds will keep at it until the bird feeder is empty. One chipmunk can empty the feeder in less than a day, three squirrels in about five hours. In contrast, it will take birds a week or two.
But there are two bigger problems. First, even the smaller chipmunks can chase away the largest birds. The birds can eat around one chipmunk, but when there are so many, they just stop coming. The feeder is never empty of rodents.
The biggest problem is that two squirrels soon turn into six and six into eighteen, and so on. I've seen two chipmunks turn into eight or ten before I even realized I had a problem.
The rodent problem seems to be diminishing. We've relocated five red squirrels and a chipmunk. There's one greedy and overly clever chipmunk left, but I think that's it. We'll see.
I remember seeing a BBC program about fifteen years ago called Daylight Robbery (I, II, and III) about British families and their struggle to keep squirrels away from the feeders. They came up with all sorts of devices, most of which failed. I found myself rooting for the squirrels. And what's wrong with a squirrel or two?
The problem is, as I've discovered with my own feeders, is that squirrels are greedy. The red squirrels just sit there eating and eating and eating. The chipmunks will stuff their cheeks, cache them somewhere, then return for more. Both kinds will keep at it until the bird feeder is empty. One chipmunk can empty the feeder in less than a day, three squirrels in about five hours. In contrast, it will take birds a week or two.
But there are two bigger problems. First, even the smaller chipmunks can chase away the largest birds. The birds can eat around one chipmunk, but when there are so many, they just stop coming. The feeder is never empty of rodents.
The biggest problem is that two squirrels soon turn into six and six into eighteen, and so on. I've seen two chipmunks turn into eight or ten before I even realized I had a problem.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Rewrite Update
Work on THE DEVIL'S DEEP rewrites has gone slowly, but I think I'm past the first stage. I've read the book, noted the known deficiencies, and identified three new scenes and where they belong. I've noted a couple of other scenes that need buffing up and another scene that should be exciting, but is not yet.
I marked up a hard copy with my first impressions, then went through this while sitting at the computer, either making notes to my list of deficiencies or fixing them immediately if they were just a line or two. I did not make line edits, except where they were egregious. That stuff can wait, since 10-30% of the words will change by the time I'm done with the redrafting. No sense line editing stuff that will be cut or changed anyway.
I marked up a hard copy with my first impressions, then went through this while sitting at the computer, either making notes to my list of deficiencies or fixing them immediately if they were just a line or two. I did not make line edits, except where they were egregious. That stuff can wait, since 10-30% of the words will change by the time I'm done with the redrafting. No sense line editing stuff that will be cut or changed anyway.
Ratatouille II
I saw the trap was triggered today, but the new occupant was not a squirrel, but a rat. Great.
It's funny how we see a squirrel or a chipmunk and think, "aw, how cute," while a rat gives us the willies. I suppose it's evolution. People who thought rats were cute didn't pass on as many genes to the next generation as those who wanted to exterminate them by any means possible. In pre-modern agricultural systems, rodents can consume 25%+ of the grain supply. Not to mention rats' role as a disease vector.
In any event, being the softie that I am, I spent a lot of time trying to humanely dispose of the rats that I've trapped over the years. I found a place with a downed tree over the river and opened the traps in such a way that they would find themselves on the limb with nowhere to go but across to the other side. Since the rats usually appear in the winter, this meant wading through the snow with trap in hand. Invariably, however, the disoriented rats would fall off the branch and into the icy river or the snow on the near side.
This is when I came up with the ratapult. The rat would drop from the cage into the snow shovel and I'd fling them across the river, into the snowbank on the other side. I later discovered, however, that there was a house back there, not just woods. What would the neighbor think if he came down to the river to find someone flinging rats onto his property?
And so I resorted to kill traps this last fall. They work quite well. I just don't like killing things.
In any event, I released this particular rat down at the beaver pond.
It's funny how we see a squirrel or a chipmunk and think, "aw, how cute," while a rat gives us the willies. I suppose it's evolution. People who thought rats were cute didn't pass on as many genes to the next generation as those who wanted to exterminate them by any means possible. In pre-modern agricultural systems, rodents can consume 25%+ of the grain supply. Not to mention rats' role as a disease vector.
In any event, being the softie that I am, I spent a lot of time trying to humanely dispose of the rats that I've trapped over the years. I found a place with a downed tree over the river and opened the traps in such a way that they would find themselves on the limb with nowhere to go but across to the other side. Since the rats usually appear in the winter, this meant wading through the snow with trap in hand. Invariably, however, the disoriented rats would fall off the branch and into the icy river or the snow on the near side.
This is when I came up with the ratapult. The rat would drop from the cage into the snow shovel and I'd fling them across the river, into the snowbank on the other side. I later discovered, however, that there was a house back there, not just woods. What would the neighbor think if he came down to the river to find someone flinging rats onto his property?
And so I resorted to kill traps this last fall. They work quite well. I just don't like killing things.
In any event, I released this particular rat down at the beaver pond.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
To My JW Readers
What's playing on the ipod: LaGrange, ZZ Top
I've noticed that a few people have found my previous post via a search for "Jehovah's Witness Blog." If this is you, and you're trying to find your way out of the church, remember that it's a big world out there. As someone with experience in leaving a high control religion, my advice is to take it slow. I've seen former Mormons go crazy nihilistic after having their belief structure kicked out from under them. There's no rush.
And remember, if it's true, it will stand up to scrutiny. The truth is not afraid of information that turns up on the internet, and does not tell you to avoid "anti" web sites. True things look more true the more you question them, not less true.
I've noticed that a few people have found my previous post via a search for "Jehovah's Witness Blog." If this is you, and you're trying to find your way out of the church, remember that it's a big world out there. As someone with experience in leaving a high control religion, my advice is to take it slow. I've seen former Mormons go crazy nihilistic after having their belief structure kicked out from under them. There's no rush.
And remember, if it's true, it will stand up to scrutiny. The truth is not afraid of information that turns up on the internet, and does not tell you to avoid "anti" web sites. True things look more true the more you question them, not less true.
Squirrels 3 Michael 0
What's playing on the ipod: After All, The Mission UK
I caught and relocated two squirrels, then trapped a third, but before I could rouse myself from the Red Sox game, the little guy trotted out to the porch and lifted the hatch and it scampered off. "Run free, little one!"
Only I still have three squirrels and two chipmunks. Either there were more than I thought, or the two relocated squirrels have returned from the meadow by the beaver pond. I'm voting for the latter. It's a half-mile away and on the other side of the road, with numerous obstacles between here and there, but somehow they've made it back. The living is too good here by the Neverending Seed Dispenser. Why go anywhere else?
I'll either have to take the squirrels to a more distant location, use the kill traps, or take down the bird feeders. They're just eating too much seed and one of the squirrels looks pregnant.
Where is the owl that took care of our last red squirrel? And why do I want them to do their part to hold up the food chain but would never seriously consider killing them myself?
I caught and relocated two squirrels, then trapped a third, but before I could rouse myself from the Red Sox game, the little guy trotted out to the porch and lifted the hatch and it scampered off. "Run free, little one!"
Only I still have three squirrels and two chipmunks. Either there were more than I thought, or the two relocated squirrels have returned from the meadow by the beaver pond. I'm voting for the latter. It's a half-mile away and on the other side of the road, with numerous obstacles between here and there, but somehow they've made it back. The living is too good here by the Neverending Seed Dispenser. Why go anywhere else?
I'll either have to take the squirrels to a more distant location, use the kill traps, or take down the bird feeders. They're just eating too much seed and one of the squirrels looks pregnant.
Where is the owl that took care of our last red squirrel? And why do I want them to do their part to hold up the food chain but would never seriously consider killing them myself?
Jehovah's Witnesses
Thank goodness my overly restrictive background is Mormonism and not the Jehovah's Witnesses. At least when I left the church my family wasn't required to shun me. And no, Mormons can't drink coffee or alcohol, but at least having fun isn't a crime (well, to most Mormons). I mean, any religion that takes away birthdays screams cult. How do they entice anyone to join this little misery-fest?
The guy who brings our eggs is a JW and periodically he hands us a pamphlet and goes through his little spiel. I'm allergic to any sort of witnessing, but I listen, nod politely, and round file the crap as soon as he's gone.
When Egg Guy's father died, he invited me to the funeral and since I have a morbid curiosity in this kind of religion (see above, re: Mormonism), I stepped into the toothless jaws of the local JW kingdom hall. The entire sermon, I kid you not, was about how dumb Egg Guy, senior was, but how the elect would need servants in the next life, so there was still hope for him.
There is one thing that JWs do (and a few evangelicals, as well) that pisses me off. The Gideon Bible guys come every year to replace the mint condition Bibles from the rooms with even newer copies. Everyone expects a GB in their hotel nightstand, so I let them do their thing. However, certain JW and EV guests have slipped their gnarly, end-of-world, everyone else is going to burn tracts into the nightstands. I'm sure people have seen this crap and thought this represented my views and that I was trying to witness to them.
The guy who brings our eggs is a JW and periodically he hands us a pamphlet and goes through his little spiel. I'm allergic to any sort of witnessing, but I listen, nod politely, and round file the crap as soon as he's gone.
When Egg Guy's father died, he invited me to the funeral and since I have a morbid curiosity in this kind of religion (see above, re: Mormonism), I stepped into the toothless jaws of the local JW kingdom hall. The entire sermon, I kid you not, was about how dumb Egg Guy, senior was, but how the elect would need servants in the next life, so there was still hope for him.
There is one thing that JWs do (and a few evangelicals, as well) that pisses me off. The Gideon Bible guys come every year to replace the mint condition Bibles from the rooms with even newer copies. Everyone expects a GB in their hotel nightstand, so I let them do their thing. However, certain JW and EV guests have slipped their gnarly, end-of-world, everyone else is going to burn tracts into the nightstands. I'm sure people have seen this crap and thought this represented my views and that I was trying to witness to them.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
One Down
One squirrel relocated, two squirrels and three chipmunks remaining. The little guy was very distressed to see M haul off the squirrel in the live trap. He kept saying, "'dilla, dilla." That being short for ardilla, or squirrel in Spanish.*
We went to the parade this morning. The weather was great, but it's raining now, which might put a damper on the fireworks. It started raining while I was halfway around the beaver pond. I could see the weather threatening and decided to risk it. I returned damp but not soaked.
*I speak to him only in Spanish. So far, it's taking better than with the other kids, who understood just fine but spoke very little eventually complained so much about Spanish that I gave it up. They promptly forgot almost everything.
We went to the parade this morning. The weather was great, but it's raining now, which might put a damper on the fireworks. It started raining while I was halfway around the beaver pond. I could see the weather threatening and decided to risk it. I returned damp but not soaked.
*I speak to him only in Spanish. So far, it's taking better than with the other kids, who understood just fine but spoke very little eventually complained so much about Spanish that I gave it up. They promptly forgot almost everything.
Squirrelatouille
I am watching three squirrels plundering the bird feeder. They've relegated the chipmunks to sloppy seconds, and have recently learned how to reach the secondary feeder. I've seen several interesting birds come up, scope things out, and then fly off. Even the bluejays can't get past the gauntlet.
Having abandoned the idea of the ratapult as means of getting rid of unwanted rodents (people are not happy to have rodents flung over the river onto their property), I'm going to set up the live trap and relocate them to the meadow down by the beaver pond. It's going to be a hassle, but really, the situation is out of control.
Having abandoned the idea of the ratapult as means of getting rid of unwanted rodents (people are not happy to have rodents flung over the river onto their property), I'm going to set up the live trap and relocate them to the meadow down by the beaver pond. It's going to be a hassle, but really, the situation is out of control.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Small Town Fourth
I'm looking forward to the local Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow. There's nothing quite like a good small-town celebration. The community itself is very active and social, but on Independence Day I always feel like I've been taken back 100 years to life before the automobile and the atomization of our modern lives. It feel healthy, authentic, although I recognize the limits of nostalgia. After a year or two in 1907 I'm sure I'd be wanting to return to the 21st Century.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Ratatouille
Ratatouille Spoiler Alert
Ratatouille was good, hitting all the right notes, even if the plot arc was somewhat formulaic (without being exactly predictable). I only have one serious complaint.
The premise of the movie, that a rat has taken to heart a famous chef's mantra that, "anyone can cook" and becomes the chef of his own restaurant is a conceit that's hard to overcome, not because it's so absurd, but because the movie keeps reminding us that he's a rat. He looks like a rat, he scurries like a rat, he belongs to a family of sewer rats who are even more ratty in behavior. There's one scene where the ceiling collapses, exposing rafters infested with rats. The scene gave me the willies. The movie only works as we forget that he's a rat and think of him as an oppressed person, trying to make his way in the world. A small, furry person. Every time he acts like a rat, I started thinking, "yeah, but I don't want a rat preparing my food, cuz that's just gross."
And when his family of several dozen sewer rats comes in and first gets into all the food in the coolers, and then later actually prepares dishes for customers...it didn't matter that they did some hand-waving of sending the rats en masse through the dishwasher, it was still yucky. I wanted to shout to the customers, "Don't eat that! The kitchen is filled with RATS!!!"
Admittedly, I own an inn in a rural setting and have worked in a restaurant. One has to be vigilant to keep the rodents at bay. And in every other way the movie works. Maybe if they'd made the rats cuter, and given them little mustaches and berets with French accents. Okay, just kidding.
One other quibble. The main human character was such a squirrelly-looking bonehead (to keep with the rodent metaphor), I had a hard time believing the hot French chick in the kitchen would have fallen in love with him.
Don't let my comments put you off from seeing the movie, though. Complaints aside, it belongs in the first tier of animated films, together with Finding Nemo, Shrek (the first, that is), and The Iron Giant.
Ratatouille was good, hitting all the right notes, even if the plot arc was somewhat formulaic (without being exactly predictable). I only have one serious complaint.
The premise of the movie, that a rat has taken to heart a famous chef's mantra that, "anyone can cook" and becomes the chef of his own restaurant is a conceit that's hard to overcome, not because it's so absurd, but because the movie keeps reminding us that he's a rat. He looks like a rat, he scurries like a rat, he belongs to a family of sewer rats who are even more ratty in behavior. There's one scene where the ceiling collapses, exposing rafters infested with rats. The scene gave me the willies. The movie only works as we forget that he's a rat and think of him as an oppressed person, trying to make his way in the world. A small, furry person. Every time he acts like a rat, I started thinking, "yeah, but I don't want a rat preparing my food, cuz that's just gross."
And when his family of several dozen sewer rats comes in and first gets into all the food in the coolers, and then later actually prepares dishes for customers...it didn't matter that they did some hand-waving of sending the rats en masse through the dishwasher, it was still yucky. I wanted to shout to the customers, "Don't eat that! The kitchen is filled with RATS!!!"
Admittedly, I own an inn in a rural setting and have worked in a restaurant. One has to be vigilant to keep the rodents at bay. And in every other way the movie works. Maybe if they'd made the rats cuter, and given them little mustaches and berets with French accents. Okay, just kidding.
One other quibble. The main human character was such a squirrelly-looking bonehead (to keep with the rodent metaphor), I had a hard time believing the hot French chick in the kitchen would have fallen in love with him.
Don't let my comments put you off from seeing the movie, though. Complaints aside, it belongs in the first tier of animated films, together with Finding Nemo, Shrek (the first, that is), and The Iron Giant.
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