Do What You Can Do

Many years ago, in my art appreciation class, I conceived of this futuristic device for suspending one's book aloft and thus being able to read without the need to prop up awkwardly. So much more relaxing than cramped elbows and smashed pillows and bulky headrests that never really work very well. Also perfect for reading in the tub: no more soggy pages or leaning over the edge or having to dry your hands just to turn a page!

Remember, this would have been years before remote controls for channel - changing or garage - door - opening were in daily use, yet notice the stick-man's hand held page - turning device that somehow works in conjunction with the magnetic (?) levitating reading lamp! In retrospect, I'm kind of impressed with my ability to tell the future!

Next day . . . this just in: Little Supergirl Scouts impress Obama with device similar to mine! My friend Marguerite writes to tell me of the amazing coincidence that a troop of six-year-old Girl Scouts, from Tulsa, Oklahoma, have created an amazing variation on my concept, using Lego pieces to design a battery-powered page turner for people who are paralyzed or have arthritis. Better yet, they took their invention to the 2015 White House Science Fair (on Monday, March 23rd) and demonstrated it to President Obama:

Official White House Photo by Pete Souza
(and video of "Supergirls" from the Tulsa World)

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"Our job as writers, as we begin that journey, is to figure out what we can do. Only do what you can do. It’s a rule I live by. Among other things, it means I can have novels heavier on dialogue than description. But more important, if you only do what you can do, you never have to worry that someone else is doing it. It keeps you from competing. It keeps you looking inside for what’s true rather than outside for what’s popular. Ideally. Your writing is your fingerprint. It’s our job in life to come to some understanding of our own identity, and being a writer makes that easier. ~What do I think? What do I love? What do I see? What are my stories?~ come up over and over again and/or reveal themselves, sometimes unintentionally, over and over again.” (p 13; see also pp 151 - 52)

from the essay "Losing Norah"
by Delia Ephron
found in her book Sister Mother Husband Dog

And the same goes for reading, right?
You figure out what you can read . . . and you read it!

And for inventing!
And for drawing!
And for blogging!

Books from a Friend

What I found in my belated Christmas Gift Box!

Megan: "In explanation, my busiest season is Christmas, and this year was busier than ever, so this package isn't even getting to your door step by The Feast of the Epiphany, unless you are using some alternate calendar (see Epiphany wiki) that gives me til January 19th. This collection has been culled from my donations because each one has your name on it. I am compelled to put them in the proper home! Even if you enjoy thumbing thru each the minute they arrive and then hand them out to others, I count it a joy to share them with you and your friends!
With love, Megan"

Kitti: The delightful box of books -- and the Halloween book sent separately -- arrived safely, and I love everything! So many good coincidences:

1. I have a couple of books in the Sweet Nellie Series by Pat Ross -- her Christmas book and one about Little Boys, but not With Love and Affection! This volume, with lot of vintage Valentines, looks lovely!

2. Likewise, I have a couple of Cynthia Hart's scrapbooks, but The Love of Lace will be a new addition, and perfect for this time of year!

3. When Ben & Sam were little, I bought Politically Correct Fairy Tales, but this is the first time I've seen Politically Correct Holiday Stories, undoubtedly very clever!

4. My friend Steven, who does community theatre in Minneapolis, is already planning to adapt L. Frank Baum's Life and Adventures of Santa Claus for their Christmas 2015 production and recommended that I read it, so I was totally thrilled to find this title among my surprises! How did you know?! In fact, I didn't even realize that Baum had branched out from the Wizard of Oz to write about Santa, so I am very curious to learn more!

5. The Victoria No Friend Like a Sister is really precious! It fits right in with some other slipcased poetry books I have, also very Victorian in style, one on Mothers, one on Christmas, one for each of the four seasons. So this one on Sisters is going to go right beside the others on the shelf -- after I read it, of course!

6. I concede, Skipping Christmas should be on everyone's holiday shelf, and I gave my copy away to my sister - in - law, so now, thanks to you, I have a replacement! See what I mean about so many good coincidences?!

I'm also really charmed by the way all these books* seems to go perfectly together in tone and appearance to create the perfect collection. Thanks so much for pulling them all together and thinking of me. That is a real gift of the heart.

Also, never fear, I am perfectly happy to celebrate The Epiphany on 19 January . . . and beyond! I have still not removed one single Christmas decoration and probably won't for a couple of weeks yet, so you are well within range! And you got your calendar, right? XO, K.

Megan: I love the fact that every one of those books had something special in it for you! I'm blown away how you have a millionaire day with so many while I have no idea many of them were series. Most of them attracted me simply because of their beauty and the Victorian style decor which is always the type of card that you are sending out. I love my new calendar and it has gone into the place where your others have lived for the years right by my kitchen sink where I use it everyday. I also keep it there so that the moons can greet each other because the moon sets outside that window as well. I can't believe your package got there that quickly I thought I had a few more days to take the picture of the calendar. This one isn't even the one I wanted to take. Was hoping for a sunset where it gets really pretty in there. Thank you for remembering me annually!

*More from Megan:

Advice to a Young Wife from an Old Mistress
Michael Drury

The Faithful Gardener
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
[remember Women Who Run With the Wolves]

Witness [a novel in poems]
Karen Hesse

A Token of Friendship
Barbara Milo Ohrbach

The Woman Who Lives in the Earth
Swain Wolfe

[And last but not least!]
The New Yorker Book of Cat Cartoons

Winter Reading

The Educated Reader by Gerald Levin:
Cover art: Santa Fe in Winter by Carol Mothner

I used to greatly enjoy teaching from this anthology -- so many excellent essays, including Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter From Birmingham City Jail," written in 1963.

So, here are a few excerpts in honor of MLK Day:

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

"We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly I have never yet engaged in a direct action movement that was “well timed,” according to the timetable of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with a piercing familiarity. This “wait” has almost always meant “never.” It has been a tranquilizing Thalidomide, relieving the emotional stress for a moment, only to give birth to an ill-formed infant of frustration. We must come to see with the distinguished jurist of yesterday that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.” We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God-given rights. . . . and we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. . . .

"In spite of my shattered dreams of the past, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the white religious leadership in the community would see the justice of our cause and, with deep moral concern, serve as the channel through which our just grievances could get to the power structure. I had hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have been disappointed. . . .

"Maybe again, I have been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to status-quo to save our nation and the world? Maybe I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ecclesia and the hope of the world. . . .

"Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty. . . . "

All I Want for Christmas is a Book about Christmas!

Make Your Own Book


On my Fortnightly Blog ~ A Dream of Christmas

On my Book Blog ~ Christmas: Past, Present, Future

Seventeen Magazine ~ Santa Lucia

Christmas Version
[and Halloween]
of my favorite tin cat signs

Happy Thanksgiving

Always grateful for a good book,
a sunny corner, and a couple of close friends!

Three Girls Reading, 1907
by American Impressionist
Edmund C. Tarbell, 1862 - 1938

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Notes on the Art of Poetry
by Dylan Thomas

I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-on
in the world between the covers of books,
such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,
such staggering peace, such enormous laughter,
such and so many blinding bright lights,
splashing all over the pages
in a million bits and pieces
all of which were words, words, words,
and each of which were alive forever
in its own delight and glory and oddity and light.

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Also, take a look at
"12 Beautiful Poems for Book Lovers"
by Alison Nastasi

Books for a Scary Night

Thanks to my facebook friend Bonnie Gushard
for sharing this October ~ y vintage image
from The Graphics Fairy

Read Quickly:
The Circle
Gone Girl

Got Started:
Americanah
A Mother's Work
Someone Knows My Name
Super Sad True Love Story
Where Wicked Starts

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Thinking ahead to Christmas:

"It's the most wonderful time of the year . . .

There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories of
Christmases long, long ago . . . "

music & lyrics by Edward Pola and George Wyle

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. . . and this eerie yet charming passage
from A Child's Christmas in Wales

Bring out the tall tales now that we told by the fire as the gaslight bubbled like a diver. Ghosts whooed like owls in the long nights when I dared not look over my shoulder; animals lurked in the cubbyhole under the stairs where the gas meter ticked. And I remember that we went singing carols once, when there wasn't the shaving of a moon to light the flying streets. At the end of a long road was a drive that led to a large house, and we stumbled up the darkness of the drive that night, each one of us afraid, each one holding a stone in his hand in case, and all of us too brave to say a word. The wind through the trees made noises as of old and unpleasant and maybe webfooted men wheezing in caves. We reached the black bulk of the house. . . .

One, two, three, and we began to sing, our voices high and seemingly distant in the snow-felted darkness round the house that was occupied by nobody we knew. We stood close together, near the dark door.

"Good King Wencelas looked out
On the Feast of Stephen . . . "
And then a small, dry voice, like the voice of someone who has not spoken for a long time, joined our singing: a small, dry, eggshell voice from the other side of the door: a small, dry voice through the keyhole. And when we stopped running we were outside our house; the front room was lovely; balloons floated under the hot-water-bottle-gulping gas; everything was good again and shone over the town.

"Perhaps it was a ghost."

~ Dylan Thomas ~

A Book Inside Me

I opened a book and in I strode.
Now nobody can find me.
I've left my chair, my house, my road,
My town and my world behind me.
I'm wearing the cloak, I've slipped on the ring,
I've swallowed the magic potion.
I've fought with a dragon, dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.
I opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.
I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me.

by Julia Donaldson
in her book Crazy Mayonnaisy Mum: Poems

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Thanks to my grade school friend Joan
for introducing me to this fanciful poem!
We were in the same reading group together back in first
grade at Eugene Field Elementary, Neosho, Missouri.

And to my friend Paula for the Grammarly Card!

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A couple of titles I enjoyed this month:
American Wife
The Friendly Persuasion