Looking for a Good Cozy

Posted on 05/24/2010 by chick

Death by Darjeeling by Laura Childs
Grade: C+

I love tea. I love cozy mysteries. So I thought this would be an ideal book. But what I got was a primer on how not to write a book. For example, I would not want to…

  • Switch back and forth between points of view.
  • Describe characters’ clothing in extreme detail.
  • Relate factual information as if it came from (or were going into) a textbook.
  • Spend so much time on the background that the foreground gets lost.
  • Use slang in sentences where it is completely inappropriate.
  • End chapters with anticlimactic sentences.

This story about a Charleston teashop owner who investigates a murder isn’t horrible, but I believe you’d be more satisfied buying a nice Darjeeling to sip while reading some other book.

The Puzzle Lady vs. the Sudoku Lady by Parnell Hall
Grade: B-

I bought this book because I am a puzzle lady and I wanted to read about myself. I was disappointed to find that I was a smart but cranky old lady who wasn’t very kind. Geez. Maybe the author really was writing about me. The cranky part is certainly accurate! 😉

The story is complicated and not particularly interesting, but I will try to give you some idea of what it’s about. The basic premise is that Minami, a sudoku constructor from Japan, comes to America to challenge Cora, the Puzzle Lady, to a crime-solving contest. Cora isn’t interested but ends up in a competition with Minami anyway. People die. Puzzles give clues. Yada yada.

There are four puzzles in the book: two crosswords and two sudoku puzzles. The crosswords are actually pretty good. The beauty of crossword puzzles is that each one is unique, so there is something to be gained by solving those that you come across. Sudoku puzzles, on the other hand, are all pretty much the same. Some are easy, some hard, but they all solve the same way and so I did not feel the need to do these particular puzzles.

One thing that particularly bothered me about the author’s style, and that I have seen elsewhere but never in such abundance, is dialogue with no cues to indicate who is speaking. You have to assume that the text in the first set of quotes is the first speaker, the second is the second speaker, the third is the first speaker again, and so forth. That’s fine for a while, but it is possible to lose track of who’s who if the dialogue goes on for a long time. And with nothing but incessant talking, you can’t visualize the story anymore, the characters sort of fade away, and the words are just echoes in the dark.

So I guess you could say that both books taught me about what to avoid as an author. Well, thanks for the lessons, y’all, but I’d really enjoy reading a good, modern cozy mystery for a change. Where, oh where, can I find one?

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Around and Around We Go

Posted on 05/23/2010 by chick

Dear Marshall,

Your father and I taught you how to wave. The funny thing is that we both realized, as we demonstrated by limp-noodling our hands in the air, that we’re not comfortable waving. There are many styles of wave, and neither of us has ever adopted a “signature” wave. You, however, now have a signature limp-noodle baby wave.

Now that you can walk, you like to do laps around the dining room table. Your father and I encourage you in this activity because it uses up some of your excess energy. Sometimes I crawl after you and we laugh as we go around. Then I turn it into a chase by saying, “Mommy’s coming!” You squeal in delight and jog a little faster. But Mommy always catches up and tickles you, which makes you giggle. Then I let you go and you start again. You’re so eager to play this game that I can initiate a round just by getting down on the floor and crawling. It’s a great way to distract you from being cranky or from trying to play with things that are off-limits.

Wave bye-bye now and run along!

Love,

Mom

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Your Mom, the Singer-Songwriter

Posted on 05/14/2010 by chick

Dear Marshall,

You seem to like the sound of my voice. When you were very young,  I tried to sing baby songs to you and found that I didn’t know all the words. So I started making up my own songs. Then I couldn’t forget the words, you see, because the lyrics were mine (and subject to change).

First, of course, was the “Pumpkin Song.” Soon after that came “Clean Bum Bum,” which had rather limited lyrics (there were a lot of “bum bums” in it). I probably reached the pinnacle of my songwriting career with “Dancing Diaper Wipe.”

It’s a dancing diaper wipe, a dancing diaper wipe.
It’s dancing just for you.
(Repeat two times)

It flutters. It floats. It flips. It flies.
It’s dancing right before your eyes.
It flutters. It floats. It flips. It flows.
Now it’s right before your toes.
It flutters. It floats. It flips. It flees.
Now it’s right before you knees.
It flutters. It floats. It flips. It flies.
Now it’s back before your eyes.

It’s a dancing diaper wipe, a dancing diaper wipe.
It’s dancing. It’s dancing. It’s dancing just for you!

But let us not forget “Who’s the Cutest Baby?,” which is probably the only one I still sing for you now.

Who’s the cutest baby in the whole wide world?
Marshall is!
Who’s the cutest baby in the universe?
Marshall is!
Who’s the cutest baby of all of time?
Marshall is!
He’s the cutest baby, the cutest baby.

You smile when I sing it to you, and it’s that smile that makes you the cutest baby in the whole wide world.

Maybe when you’re older you will write songs for me. Just not about diaper wipes, ok?

Love,

Mom

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TP Tirade

Posted on 05/13/2010 by chick

Enough with the ultrathin TP, people! What is the point of it? You can double up, even triple up on the stuff, and it’s still thinner than cobwebs. The stuff is so useless, I don’t know why so many companies bother spending their pennies on the pretense.

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Exhausted

Posted on 05/12/2010 by chick

Having posted every day for such a long time, I felt compelled to stop by tonight even though I’m exhausted and I have to drive to CT tomorrow. However, it will be a very short post.

On this day…

It was cold. I worked my ass off. I made oven-fried chicken. I went to sleep almost immediately after writing my blog post for the day (I hope).

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I Ain’t Superstitious

Posted on 05/11/2010 by chick

I think I’m not superstitious. That is, until something happens and I say to myself, “Gee! I hope that’s not a sign!” For example, today I accidentally ripped a piece of a paper at work. It wasn’t just any old piece of paper, but a sacred object known as a “style sheet.” Well, it’s really only the information on the style sheet that’s sacred. The actual piece of paper is easily replaced (thank goodness for photocopy machines!). Still, I’ve never ripped a style sheet before. So of course, after thinking “I’ve never done that before,” I thought “It must be a sign!”

Yeah, it’s a sign. It’s a sign that I’m too lazy to move things out of the way when I’m trying to pull a piece of paper toward me!

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Mighty Mite

Posted on 05/10/2010 by chick

I haven’t been out to see my violets lately. That’s because I found out the hard way that there are chiggers in the lawn. And before you say, “Ew! You’ve got bugs in your skin!,” let’s talk about what a chigger is. It’s a tiny little mite (a mighty mite!). It’s so small that you can’t see it. It eats some of your skin and then drops off. It doesn’t stay on you. It doesn’t burrow in. It doesn’t suck your blood. It doesn’t lay any eggs on you. It just goes away and doesn’t bother you again.

Sadly, though, the bites may well bother you for a couple of weeks. I know mine did. They were as itchy as mosquito bites and twice as ugly. Needless to say, I don’t want any more of them, and so I probably won’t walk around the yard again until my husband mows the grass.

But I miss my violets. 🙁

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The Adventure of Peeps: Next, Next Part

Posted on 05/09/2010 by chick

Going through my drafts, I found this next installment of the Peeps story. I can’t believe how long I let it sit there. Wow. I offer ten times as many apologies as usual, especially to Peeps, who would like her story finished. To read the first part of the story, click here.

Peeps wasn’t as scared of the Old Fisher as she should have been. He wasn’t much bigger than she, and he had that skinny, pathetic look of a shaven animal, though in this case the king’s fur had simply fallen out. In all the history of fisher cats, no one could remember a case of a fisher cat losing his fur, but Old King Fisher was, without doubt, the oldest fisher cat ever to exist. He had survived seasons beyond counting, and he was just as sharp and cruel as he had ever been. It was whispered that his furlessness was punishment for being such a bad king. Canny Old King Fisher knew that, and he never pushed the bounds of decency so far that his subjects rebelled. They just continued their mutterings, and that was fine with him.

But his lack of fur was a constant source of irritation. He could still remember the smoothness of his fur as a kit. How lusterous! How soft! How warm! In his private den, on the coldest nights, he wrapped himself in a shirt stolen from a farmer’s clothesline, but he never allowed anyone to see it. They would accuse him of trying to be a man, and there was no higher insult in the animal kingdom. Animals simply did not wear clothes. Animals wore fur. Only fur.

As Old King Fisher glared at the cat before him, he realized that he had found the solution to his problem. Here was a creature with a fine pelt. A coat of fur, one could argue, was 100% natural for an animal to wear. He might just be able to pass it off. The more he thought about it, the more he could imagine the comfort that only fur can provide. He could almost feel the fur settling smoothly on his back, protecting his dry skin, easing the cold from his bones. He sighed in ecstasy.

“Your majesty?” said the Toad.

“Um, yes,” replied the king, shaking off his trance. “As I was saying, I did not invite this creature to my party, but you may introduce her to me, Toad.”

Posted in Sunday Stories, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

A Day at IKEA

Posted on 05/08/2010 by chick

Dear Marshall,

We took you shopping at IKEA a few of weeks ago. The trip was notable for two reasons.

First, your father and I had a ton of fun shopping for you. Not to sound ungrateful, but we had received so many baby gifts from others that we missed out on the experience of shopping for you when you were tiny. The goal behind this trip was to get you some shelves, and in that we failed, but we bought lots of other great things for you. We got you an adorable little table and two chairs to go with it, a roll of drawing paper with a stand, and best of all, some soft blocks and a red tent.

You would not believe how hard it is to find simple baby toys like blocks! And it’s so sad, because babies need interactive play, and you’re at such a great age for it! You love to move around, knock things over, chase after things. But most of all, you love having your parents on the floor with you, engaged in play, and the blocks really help. You’re like a baby Godzilla. I build up a tower of blocks, and you knock them down. It’s fun for both of us. I’m so glad that IKEA sells these blocks. They’re soft and washable, and when lined up properly they form a picture of a giraffe on one side and an alligator on another.

And you love your little tent. Sure, you keep on “killing” it. That is, you climb on top of it until it folds up and “dies.” It’s got a tear in it now, and you’ve bent the supports so that it doesn’t open quite as wide as it once did, but who cares? We’ve already gotten our money out of it tenfold. The tent has four mesh “windows.” When you’re sitting in the tent, which we have “pitched” in the dining room, my favorite game is to put my face up to one of the windows and talk to you through it. You get all excited, and then I move to another window, and you’re always so surprised to see my face in a new place. We could play that game all day and you couldn’t get enough.

Second, the trip to IKEA was an exercise in “dealing with Baby outside the house.” I admit it. I’m a chicken. I don’t like to leave the house with you. But at IKEA, everything is easy. From the carts, to the food-prep area in the restaurant, to the family restroom, they’ve deliberately made it a family-friendly place. I wish we had one closer. If we did, maybe we’d go out more often. And I would definitely buy another package of blocks for you so that we could build a tower 8 blocks tall. That’s 2 giraffes tall, if you line them up right!

Love,

Mom

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They Don’t Make a Lot Like These

Posted on 05/07/2010 by chick

Today was a beautiful day. Sunny but not hot. Breezy but not cold. Perfect.

But I was inside most of the day. And now that the day is over, I can’t help but wonder how many such days I am allotted. Should I have done more with it? Should I have called out sick and taken my son on a picnic or something?

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