Something is seriously wrong with the world when I can go to the UW Sociology website at work and have it be a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT website than the one that pops up at home.

Something is even wronger when these websites have conflicting information about how to get into the major.

I've had this discussion a few times recently, in differing contexts; to what degree are the art and the artist separate? On the one hand, it can be a matter of distaste at the artist's personal life. Must the behavior of the artist somehow be excused in order to laud the art? Or, alternately, is distaste at the artist's behavior reason enough to avoid their work? In the sense that buying the book/movie/memoir would be supporting this person, I think it's reasonable to decide to essentially boycott someone's work. On the other hand, once they're dead, have at it.

But more recently, I've been complaining about the worship of memoir. I'm reading a book called Methland; it's focused mostly on a single town, Oelwin, and its struggles with the meth 'epidemic.' For the most part, it is a very well-researched and well-written book. The town comes alive, both in its faults and its virtues, and the larger-scale implications of its struggles are explored with care and precision. And then, about 4/5 of the way through, we get a chapter about the author's family. Why? Apparently, because he came from a small town. So we get to read all about his great-grandfather, his various relatives, how his father liked to play baseball.

If the idea is to show how small towns have changed, or stayed the same, why aren't we talking about Oelwin's past (actually, we already did)? The only purpose is to insert the author in the narrative. And you know what? I don't care. I care that the author did his research. I care that he's presenting things accurately, I care that he spent time in Oelwin, I care that he's sought out all sides of the story. I don't care that his father played baseball in a small town. I wouldn't care if he had grown up in a Manhattan penthouse.

The artist is not the art.

Who we are informs our art, to be sure; the art is, in many ways, the artist. Our experiences and personalities and beliefs shape our creations. But those creations are entities in themselves. They are not us. Attaching a day-by-day diary does not make the art more or less real. The artist is not what is being examined. The art is not merely an illustration to glorify or condemn or explain the artist. The art is the art.

Feel free to disagree.

The next section of my 'books I've read', which goes back to August. Wintergirls was the first book I read in October.

( Three months of books )

Ugh.

That's all.

Just.

Ugh.
 

Also, I officially place my 'novel ideas' cap at five. Seriously. I'm good for a few years. Just back off. Let me finish this one first.

The question is not "where do you get your ideas." It's "how do you make them shut up long enough to finish anything?"
 

Why?

This is why.



I love Ilona Andrews. She is my crack of choice when I'm reading urban fantasy. But she gets boned with her covers. Actually, this one is better looking in general than her Kate Daniels series, in my opinion, but the floating shirtless guy? Ok, I realize this is more romance than the other series. It is, in fact, a romance novel, unambiguously. Which I tolerated because the paranormal part was fun and interesting. If I liked romance, I think I would have liked this one instead of tolerating it when it got in the way of my magic and adventure.

So I understand that this is not all that unusual for the genre, cover-wise. But I almost didn't even pick the book up because of it. What can I say. I'm shallow.

This is the cover of her first book:



No floating man, though the lion is actually the love interest (shapeshifter). I hate this cover. The sword is all wrong, the colors are weirdly muted, the photos look inexpertly shoved together. And the title isn't helping much either. Very... generic. In fact, I never would have picked this book up if I hadn't been insanely bored and stuck in the library while the clouds rained themselves out. I liked it quite a lot, loved the second one, and the third one was somewhere in between. Point being, the books are good (if urban fantasy is your thing, and post-apocalyptic Atlanta amuses you). But it's a miracle I ever figured that out.

Dear Ace: Please arrange better covers. Thanks.

This is rather a broad topic, so expect rambling.

( Creativity )

Ages ago Mike did this thing where someone gives you five topics and you write about... some of them? (Goes to check because it's been freaking MONTHS, Mike, geez)... All of them! Ok. They were, in order:

-Steampunk
-Creativity
-Fear
-Games
-Fashion

( So, Steampunk )

-The "Abortion is Genocide" people are back. Right to free speech, etc, etc, but I wish they'd look at a dictionary. They're not the only people to use inaccurate and inflammatory words for political purposes by a long shot, but they're the ones currently waving them in 2' neon letters in my face along with giant pictures of surgical procedures, so they get my annoyance today. And tomorrow. And probably for the next week.

-Finished book #75 last night. It was a very short 400 pages--I started it at 10:30 and finished at around 2am. For those who are curious, the book was Magic Study. It had major flaws, but moved well and was entertaining. I liked it well enough that I'll pick up the next one, since they're quick reads, but it's a low priority on my list of series to get through.

-My new motherboard arrives today. Huzzah! Shelley will be born! (Points to whoever figures out exactly why I'm naming my comp Shelley.) Dashiell will still be around, as he's (mostly) functional and (sort of) portable, but Shelley will be doing the heavy lifting. I will actually be able to play something more graphics-intensive than solitaire now.

-I miss the days when check-ins about how are papers are progressing included phrases like "I'm disappointed to learn that sauerkraut was not as important as I was led to believe." Sigh. Now it's all juvenile delinquency and poverty, nothing interesting like the fight against scurvy and famous pirate trials.

School has officially been going for two weeks now, and I'm settling into a sort of routine. I only have class three days out of the week, so that leaves me a lot of time to write... although it also leaves a lot of empty, unstructured time that's driving me up the wall. On Mondays and Wednesdays I do any class reading that's left, which will probably take an hour on Mondays and 2-3 on Wednesdays, judging by the average length and density of readings so far. After that, I write. But I think I need to come up with something entertaining I can dole out for myself, or errands to run, or SOMETHING, because the more time I have to write the less I get done.

Yeah, yeah, poor me, too much free time.

So far I've stayed caught up with readings, though that rarely lasts the whole quarter. And I admit to skimming some of the lower-level stuff,  which I know from other classes. The big accomplishment this quarter, though, is that I know what my paper topics are going to be already! Huzzah! I have two 10-pagers, which is more than last quarter but not at all daunting. The quarter system definitely involves less writing than the semester system, even when you balance it out across the year.

In other news, Boomer now knows the sound of the laser pointer being picked up. Or even just nudged across the table. She comes bounding over. When the button clicks, she starts jerking around, searching the floor for that elusive little dot.

If she starts to show signs of looking for it when it's not there, I'll discontinue the game. Don't want to give the poor girl OCD. But for now she doesn't go bonkers until the actual stimulus, so so far so good. I hope.

I just finished the book Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson. It was beautifully written, but that's about all I liked about it. Maybe it's because I've never struggled with anorexia--ok, maybe for like one afternoon but then I smelled some fries and I gave up on the idea. Maybe it's because I left high school cleanly and I have no identification with it anymore. Maybe it was because it was obvious from the first page what was going to happen in the book. Maybe it was because I read this book, although with different characters and set pieces and Big Issues, just a few months ago.*

( My inane ramblings )




*The other book is One For Sorrow.

Drinking iced coffee, I'm reminded of an exchange between a coworker, and a customer at Tully's.
PC: Perky Coworker
BC: Brazilian Customer

Setting: Tully's at Pike's Place, on a 90-something degree day.

BC: (finishing order) ...and a small coffee.
PC: Would you like that iced?
BC: (with look of disgust) Iced?
PC: Because it's so hot out.
BC: You think I want it iced?
PC: I just thought... a lot of people are getting their drinks iced, because it's hot out.
BC: In Brazil, we do not drink iced coffee. We drink our coffee hot!
PC: What do you drink when it gets hot out, then?
BC: WE DRINK BEER.

Dear Seattle Public Libraries,

Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I know I have $1.15 in overdue fines I haven't paid, but I just figured I'd wait until it was an even dollar amount. I was going to pay, I swear. And I know sometimes I put books on hold and then decide I don't want them once I've read the first page. I should probably use google books or something so I don't make you spend all that effort and fuel, but it's something like a 10:1 ratio, so I didn't think it was that big a deal.

Is it because I don't spend time with you any more? The holds system is so convenient, and your alphabetizing skills are... well, you know I love you, but they're sub-par. Not to mention your genre classifications. I'd rather just have you find it for me. So yes, I do only spend about sixty seconds per trip inside, but I appreciate every moment of it.

I don't spill things on the books, or kick up a fuss when you don't stock the particular translation of the Iliad I wanted (or the random trashy UF novel). So why have you abandoned me? I understand your budget-cuts have been hard on you, and everyone is entitled to a vacation. But did you have to take away my internet services? My list? My ability to check on the status of my books, and how many I have checked out because I'm too lazy to get them all off the shelf at once? I can't remember what I was going to read. I have no place to easily put new recommendations. I'm dying here, and you're twiddling your thumbs because the city left you with a deficit of a couple million dollars.

I've only read three books in the last three weeks. Three! How can I live like this? One of them was borrowed from a friend!

I don't know if I'll survive the next two days. When you come back and my account starts accumulating fines, you'll know. And you'll know it was your fault.

-Utterly Heartbroken Patron

Turns out there was a professional photographer on one of the tour boats following the whales when they passed us, and he's a friend of a friend. This was the only photo with one of us in it. But here it is.

--

Also, I have now beaten The Secret of Monkey Island and Mass Effect, and have spent too many consecutive hours playing the newly-arrived Rock Band to comfortably admit. Ahem. I've also read two books, but still. I need to get back to writing and such. /shame.

Except for the book thing. This is largely because I haven't been doing much with myself except playing video games. Bad Kate. On t'other hand, I went on a kayak camping trip with the family and a couple friends.

We set out of Anacortis. We had a double, a triple (with only two occupants) and two singles, all of us with at least some experience. We got the boats packed and on the water in record time, and set out with a strong current taking us toward Cypress Island. About half an hour out, an orca jumped into the air in front of us. Followed by several more. And then some more. And then they stopped jumping and just started swimming straight toward us... all fifteen to twenty or so of them. We heard the whale-watching boat announce, "It looks like they're heading straight toward those kayaks." My mother assured me as the barreled down that a) orcas are respectful of kayaks and b) we couldn't get out of the way fast enough even if we tried.

The orcas dove down to pass under us, and resurfaced on the other side. One of our singles was much further behind, though, and one of the orcas couldn't hold his breath quite as long as the others. He came up a couple feet off her nose, arched back down into the water, and passed under her kayak close enough to touch with the paddle (she didn't). We watched them swim away, blasting water into the air every time they curved up. And then set out for a much less exciting paddle to the island.

Along the way, we saw a number of pigeon guillemots, rhinoceros auklets, and (we think) tufted puffins, as well as a bald eagle. The seals and porpoises weren't out, but we did hear a baby seal on the shore calling for mom to hurry up with the fish already.

We rounded Cypress head and headed to Pelican Beach, where we meant to camp, but a veterans group had set up camp and taken over nearly the entire beach. So we had a lunch of fresh bread and goat cheese and fruit and packed back into the boats. Cypress head turned out to be a much better camp site anyway, once we got there--we had a view of the channel, and according to our neighbors we'd missed a morning performance by the orcas, about an hour and a half of leaping and fishing and playing. Sadly, they didn't return the next day, but ah well. Despite our wine getting stolen off the beach and an unanticipated temperature drop that had us raiding the island for firewood, we had a great couple of days. We added cormorants, seals, and porpoises to the wildlife list and took a long (and extremely uphill) hike to the top of the island. At night, I made fire. Ok, with the help of a lighter, but still.

The return to Anacortis only took an hour, because we had an insane current at our backs. At the landing was a blue heron fishing, who managed to catch one fish and miss three while we watched.

So, all in all a good trip. Looking forward to doing it again before the weather turns bad this fall.

Back from TNEO, which was 90% excellent and 10% drama. Since I should be writing, I'm going to update my list of books I've read this year instead.
( Procrastination ftw )

I'm going to sit down soon and write down brief reflections of the first fifty books of the year. Probably no more than a sentence or two each. But it'll still be quite the task.

Today I did nothing. I played a video game, watched a tv show, and... that's it.

I guess this counts as my weekend. Need to get stuff done tomorrow or I will feel like a slob.

A job would be nice, too.

Need to oil the hamster wheel again. Dear lord. It sounded like an electronic beep, so it took me a while to figure out where it was coming from. Since I was in a state of undress and half-asleep, I opted for removing the wheel entirely rather than stumbling out to the garage to find the bike lubricant again. There has got to be a non-squeak wheel somewhere.

Meanwhile, I'm working my way through my crits, novel, and library books. Rare Earth is slow going, but I'm not putting any pressure on myself to remember any of it, or finish it on my usual schedule. I'm getting about a chapter a day in. Fascinating but relatively dense, and I have almost no background in this stuff. Meanwhile, I've read a pair of YA novels (one meh, one pretty good), a history/commentary and translation of Sappho, and I'm reading some bizarre Persian & Greek history that reads like epic fantasy. Shape-shifting magi ftw.

School-wise, got in a very good batch of grades. My GPA for the quarter is 3.74. Which means that my overall GPA is somewhere in the 3.6 range, where I'd like to keep it. And next year I actually get to take classes in my major! That aren't the classes I've already taken!

So, now back to crits. Need to get a couple done today. Lagging behind again...

I tried to get rid of them gracefully and politely when they asked the generic 'talk about God' question. But then they pulled out 'Will you survive the end of the world?'

...

So I asked them if the end of the world would involve zombies, and if they would be the fast kind or the slow kind, and whether or not I would have a shotgun.

They gave me their pamphlet and left.