More Angst-Ridden Babble

There's something weird about being a book blogger, especially one in the kidlitosphere. There's a weird symbiosis about writing about books and interacting with their creators. Others have oft noted it and bloggers have been accused of being unable, as non-professional reviewers (a whole different beef), to be objective about the task. I think it's bullshit, at least as it pertains to me (the only case I'm qualified to talk about). Because, trust me, I can like you and not think your book is anything special - I'll try to be nice about it, though. But even basing my argument on "trust me" opens me up to valid accusations of self-referential, fact-free, unprofessional writing (cue eye roll).

What does this mean to you, my reader? Well, it means that you may well find from time to time that I'm talking about a book by an author I've somehow become friends with. So how does a blogger review a book written by a friend without appearing biased or unreliable? This is a growing concern for me as I immerse myself deeper into this kidlit world and start creating friendships with the people whose creative work I may well criticize in this space. Most of the time, I've simply chosen to either not read or review books of authors I consider friends. But that's not really fair, either - to me, or them.

For instance, in this very case - I really, truly, like A la Carte, I want it to do well, and I want readers who maybe haven't seen this title to be aware of it - or better yet - pick it up. And not because the author is my friend - but because I liked that book. I've had a hard time with this. It doesn't have anything to do with the book - it's the all about the author. See, Tanita S. Davis? I've never met her, but I would absolutely not hesitate to call her my friend. If I were in Scotland, I'd absolutely stop by and have a cup of tea. Or force them to feed me something more substantial than that (b/c she and her husband have a food blog. A food blog that always makes me hungry.) Or even, if I suck up really well, stay with them. Three years ago, Tanita and I served as nominating panelists during the very first year of the Cybils. During that process received she her contract for A la Carte. We were a tight group. We bonded. I'm still very attached to the members of that group. They are amazing women whom I watch to this day with interest and love (me = total sap). Can I judge the products of Tanita's imagination without bias or predisposition?

Ultimately, it's up to you to decide if you find my content unbiased and of quality. I suspect you will, and that I'm far more likely to lose (and have lost) readers due to my irregular posting. A point I'm not willing to adjust, since I'd rather have a life than be a star blogger (of course, if someone wanted to PAY me, the whole equation is null). If you don't like what I review, the way I review, or how I review, well, I'm not quite sure why you are even still here, so I'm not terribly concerned about that.

Like I've said, I've struggled a great deal with this decision, but ultimately, I've decided that, to over simplify the whole damn thing, it's my blog and I'll blog about what I want to, regardless of who wrote it and how much I like that person. Since really, as we all know, liking a particular book isn't what makes me talk about them here. And *that* more than anything, should tell you whether to give credence to what I say, as I think I've proved with the content of this blog that I can like something just fine, and still have negative things to say, and dislike something and still have good things to say. So, as I said in my last angst-ridden post, I'll speak up when I have something to say. 'Cause I'm not reviewing the author, I'm reviewing the book. I hope you'll stick around.

Why I don't blog more.

So I've gotten some grief for not posting in a month. I understand that. I suck. Ultimately, it takes me a hell of a long time to write up my thoughts on books - far more time than it did when I began this blog, and that is time I'm not spending reading or living. As I become a more critical reader, I become more exacting in what I expect of myself in my reviews here. I also must acknowledge that since I've gotten the new job (which happened in March '08) as a teen librarian, I've needed this outlet less. Not to mention that I blog and tweet for work and do teen stuff all day. Which, to be honest, burns my enthusiasm out a little.

This said, I am not abandoning the kidlitosphere (meaning the kid lit-centered blog world, for those of you who don't know the term). I'm just planning on staying unreliable. If I lose (or, um, have already lost) readers, well, so be it. I'll pop up when I have something to say.

I'd just rather live (away from the computer screen) than feel obligated to do something that used to be fun. I don't want blogging -or reading- to become an onerous duty - which is the way its been feeling in the last six months or so.

However, your comments are always so welcome. If I didn't receive any comments (or emails asking why I haven't posted in so long) I probably would have given up ages ago. I am continuing my role (actually, increasing a bit) with readergirlz and still plan to do the bi-yearly author interview event.

Also, if you are really wanting to hear more from me, get thyself on Twitter and follow me there. It's such a small little time committment, I find myself addicted. Probably because I can tweet from my phone.

Now that's just not fair

Right, so that last post? I just got notification that someone picked up the Travel Bug in order to TAKE TO FLORIDA.

That is not the right direction. That is the exact opposite direction. You can't really get much further away from Seattle and stay in the Lower 48. I have to say, GISH1982, you aren't really following directions well. Posing with a giant bronze Humpty Dumpty won't make up for it. I'm a TEEN librarian, nursery rhymes won't work on me.

Just you watch, it will finally get out of the, er, warmness of Florida and slowly work it's way NW before getting stuck in Kansas for another year. Not to be pessimistic or anything.

All of this said, if someone were to pick the thing up and take it to another country, I'd be cool with it.

I think I need to do another experiment, sending one to my brother in Virginia and see what happens.

UPDATE: Yep. There it is. In Florida. Sigh.


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Kansas is like the Bermuda Triangle

or something.

A year and a half ago my mom released a Travel Bug into the wild (Swimming Upstream). It's goal was Spokane, where I was living at the time. I've since changed that goal to Seattle, where I live now, but I somehow doubt that it matters 'CAUSE IT CAN'T SEEM TO FREAKIN' GET PAST FREAKIN' KANSAS. Please, any readers in Kansas, will you please, please, please move the little fishy along? North and West, please.


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If you aren't a Geocacher* and none of this makes sense to you AND you are actually curious read here, or if you are the lazier sort, wait for Justina Chen Headley's upcoming book NORTH OF BEAUTIFUL, out in February. It's touching, wonderful, and full of all sorts of geocaching awesomeness. But I might be a little biased as I'm in the FREAKIN' ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS! Holy Rusted Metal, Batman! I didn't do anything to deserve it, I swear! My mother is nevertheless quite proud.

I promise I'll talk about more books soon.

*I've been Geocaching for probably 5 years, but I never log any of my finds, so please don't judge me by my profile. But feel free to friend me if you are a fellow cacher!

Occasionally, they've got a good chart:

Graph Jam can be amusing. Or boring. Thanks boyfriend.

We should all be personally offended now and again.

It means that we care about something. It means we aren't going about life as zombies. As a librarian I'm happy to direct you toward topics that personally offend me when you ask for them. I don't impose my personal ideologies upon you, in fact, when I'm at the library I'm not even going to tell you WHAT I think, personally, about ANY topic - save whether that novel over there is worth your time or not. You can bait me and try your darndest to engage me in your personal belief system all you want - I won't bite when I'm at the library. Many (many) tried in this past political season. I won't even agree with you when I agree with you. It's not going to happen.

All of this is fine and well - any librarian worth her salt should do the same. And while I have no intention of turning this blog into a mouthpiece for my politics, this has always served as my outlet. I need that outlet now, but in a different way than usual. It took a week for my elation of finally voting for the winner in a presidential election to wear off and the horror, again, at the perversion of civil rights by voters to set in. I still read coverage of The Transition with joy, but that joy no longer overcomes how heartbroken I am at the fact that what amounts to personal offense overriding civil rights.

If they had voted in the 50's about integration, would it have passed?
If they had voted then about interracial marriage, would it have passed?

When I boil down freedom, the basis of our government, to its core, its very essence, I believe that a person can do whatever they want to do as long as it does not impinge on another's rights. And here's where some of you and I are bound to disagree: I do not believe that same-sex marriage is harmful to anyone. You can send me as many articles and biased studies as you want, I will never agree with you. Be personally offended all you want about the "homosexual lifestyle", but I will never believe that a gay couple's right to be legally recognized as MARRIED will negatively affect your life. You'll go on living the exact same way you did before. Your 50% chance of marital success will be the same.

We aren't supposed to legislate just because something offends us. Not when it doesn't harm. Same-sex marriage will not erode "traditional" marriage any more than interracial marriage eroded same-race marriages. Let's disregard what the talking heads tell you and what they expound in the pulpit. Let's make it personal - because it is personal. It's not abstract. THINK about what you believe and why you believe it. Make up your own mind. Consider what you would take away. And what it means to those you would directly affect because you are indirectly, personally, offended.

I know some of you reading this don't agree with me. That's ok. If you've gotten this far, I applaud you. I don't think you are the enemy. I hope you don't think I'm yours, and that we can peacefully agree to disagree on this one. Sometimes we can vote in change. Sometimes social change has to be thrust upon us.

What I'll be doing on Saturday.

It'll be my first rally/protest ever.

For my cousins.
For my friends.
For civil rights.

*"Not Equal Sign" image stolen from James Price's striking entry here.

For some inexplicable reason...My hair.

Ok, this marks a *cough* historic event. I've never placed any pictures of me on this blog... Now there will be, well, a handful of them in this post... For those of you who were curious about what I was going to do with my hair. Which, should be relatively few of you. After tonight, I promise I'll leave personal stuff out of the blog for a while. I've read quite a few really good books lately, and I really want to share them with you all. Soon.

Here's how I started off this morning, well after walking through the weirdly chilly and windy streets of Seattle. Nothing at all wrong with my hair. It's just been the same way for too long. I'd normally never allow such a double-chin focused picture to be seen in public, but I love that t-shirt. I bought it for Kyle (for Valentine's Day), but he didn't get it - he does not understand how Candy Corn Cannibalism is hilarious. He thinks broccoli might be funny though. So, I reclaimed it. And wear it proudly. How many of you agree that it's a funny tee? Seriously, maybe if we all disagree, he'll see the light. *nods*

Mid-process. Turns out the Henna I had fun with last summer was still in my hair, and is apparently very difficult to get out. She needed to bleach the hair if there was to be any hope of getting some dimension. Or something. Clearly, I'm a little concerned - as I've no desire to be blond. In. Any. Way.

And, there we are. In my bathroom. All self-portraits should happen in the bathroom, yes? That's my Christmas cactus in the background, there. It's a good plant. It even blooms occasionally. It's a little hard to tell what my hair looks like here, but it's bright red on dark red. I really wasn't comfortable with the idea of a bob. I don't want anyone to think that I like Katie Holmes OR V Beckham. So I'll stick to my vaguely rocker-chic thing I've now got going (I'm so not a rocker chick, so we'll see how this goes...). It's got a lot of layers. Which you really can't tell here. But there are. Really. I swear. 

*nods*

Ok, Some advice por favor

Kyle (the boyfriend) says that I don't have a colorful personality. At least not as it translates to my hair. I'm going here to get my hair done on Sunday (I haven't had it cut since December, when I spent a grand wad of $10...). I want something more interesting. But I don't really know what that means, or at least, what I want it to mean. I'm seeing her and her. Yes, friends, cut and COLOR. I'm bored with my hair.

Got advice? I'm sure you can dig up a couple pictures of me out there.

And no, this is relevant to NOTHING.

"No! That's a Barbershop Pole!" and other stories.

Ok, since I fell off the face of the earth there for awhile, it is entirely possible that every one of you has already seen this. On the off chance a couple of you haven't... Remember Where's Waldo?



hehe! Thanks Gwendolyn!

On a personal note, I've been at the new job for almost a month now. I love it. It is exactly what I always wanted. It's all consuming, and I have to force myself not to stay up at night and work, but I'm completely engaged with what I'm doing. There's always a little niggling fear that I'm about to fall flat on my face and screw something up in a sensational manner, but so far I've managed not to do that. I'm sure eventually I'll drop one of the balls I'm juggling (this possibility is increased given the fact that I don't know how to juggle), but hopefully it won't be one of the flaming ones. Until then, I love being a teen librarian. Love, love, love. And I'm happy to be back in the blogging world. We're getting things set for the next round of author interviews, and I'm pretty darn excited about them.

Nary a 'gator to be seen. Thank God.

Yes, yes, I just got back from D.C. Whatever. I'm on my first "just because" vacation in a long time. Since, gosh, Oct. 2004, I think. I'm not traveling for an obligation or a holiday. Just because I wanted to, and I totally missed Sarah. Hello, Florida. Hello 75 degrees. Goodbye 17. My body may still be on Pacific Time, but it's sure confused about the season. So is my brain.
What we did today:

To be clear, we didn't go there. But we did pass the sign.
That's exciting, right?


Look! We're venturing off into the great unknown!
Fear for us! No, really. We left the map in the bathroom.


All the other programs on my computer don't seem to have a problem recognizing this as a vertical picture. Blogger however...
Also, we seem to have a ghost. Though it might just be a speck on the lens. At least it's not my finger. 'Cause that would just be embarrassing.


OO! Wildlife.
At this point I'm only a little scared that that thing
will fly at me and plunge my shiny new camera into the salty water.


Oh good. He went the other way. Phew.


Hmm... We seem to be entering some kind of maze...


A dead end. Well, that can't be good.

At this point, I resort to licking a mangrove leaf.
As you may be able to tell, the leaf is covered with salt crystals.
This leads to the variety's name of White Mangrove, as the salt it exudes from the leaves causes it to be more pale then its friends the Red & Black Mangroves, which, at least in Red's case, blocks the salt from being absorbed in the first place with some amazing root filtration. Haven't got a clue what Black does.
Yes, I'm a dork, but I did make Ally lick one first, so that says something.
I also cleverly avoided leaves with bird poop on them.


Land! Glorious Land!


Can't remember what the dead beastie is called, but the leaf is a Sea Grape. My sources tell me they don't fair well in hurricanes. You can also make jam with their fruit. I don't think I'd make jam of our beastie.


Speaking of jam, we are comforted by the familiar growth of the Prickly Pear
although, I'm a little surprised to find it growing on an island. Either way, if we got stuck on the island and could manage to make pectin, we'd be set with two varieties of jam!


My souvenir. Didn't notice it until we returned the kayaks.

If you happen to find yourself in South Florida, check out John D. MacArthur State Park. We had a ton of fun, the kayaking was cheap, and it's always good to support the nature preserves!

Small Boulders Work Too

The Wisdom of Kristy B:

"We shouldn't date boys, we should throw rocks at them."

Yeah, that pretty much says it all.