So we’re getting ready for a much-anticipated, delightful group of houseguests to come in for Stumptown, and we’re trying to get the place to look like somewhere they might want to sleep.
We need music of course, and it’s been a while since we listened to All Hail West Texas, and it has so many great songs. I’ve just pushed repeat so that I can sing along to one for the third time in a row, and then it hits me: as we clean the house, I am singing along, over and over, with “The Mess Inside.”
Monthly Archive for September, 2007
It’s a good week for readings at the downtown Powells. Junot Diaz will be there tonight, and Amy Bloom will be there tomorrow night.
Here are some people posing with their favorite books. I love the black and white documentary-looking style, and I’m also fascinated by the titles people chose.
There’s a new interview with me up over at YA Books Central; it’s one of the many features of GLBT Month. Speaking of all things GLBT, check out Worth The Trip, a great, newish blog devoted to queer books for kids and teens.
On another topic: it’s 4:37 AM as I type. When you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, what do you do to re-achieve unconsciousness? (Blogging, I find, is not so effective.)
Years ago, Steve told me, “Comics people are vampires. Eventually, they turn everyone around them into comics people, too.”
He was right. Clearly, it worked on me. And now I’m proud to say I’ve turned my first victim. Einbahnstrasse Waltz, a standalone story involving a high school orchestra trip to Vienna, drinking, angst, and navigational difficulties, is the very first comic to be illustrated by animator Cat Ellis!
You can read it on ComicSpace, buy a paper copy via PayPal, and/or, if you’re coming to the Stumptown Comics Fest next weekend, get it from us in person.
For a while now, Steve’s been agitating for us to get a GPS for the car. Now, I’m notorious for getting lost. As Susan Cooper once said, “I don’t have a bump of direction, I have a dent.” So the idea does make some sense.
Yet, I’ve always resisted. Some weird robot voice telling me where to go? I’d want to mess with it, see if I could break it. Or, you know, I just wouldn’t believe what it was saying.
But I’ve recently realized that under very specific conditions, I would very much like to get in on the GPS action.
See, you know how there’s that thing at some hotels where you can get wake-up calls from celebrities?
Well, what I want is a GPS system voiced entirely by the cast of The Wire. I mean, if I had, say, Clarke Peters, Idris Elba, Wendell Pierce, Lance Reddick, and Michael K. Williams telling me where to go?
I’d never get lost again.
If you could have a personalized GPS, who would the voices be?
1. We’re at a coffeeshop, and I’ve just ordered. The nice lady behind the counter gives me a total. Steve says, “Wait, I’m going to order too!”
Nice lady looks slightly sheepish, takes his order, and then says, “I should have asked if you were together, but you know, I’ve found that when I ask, it actually often creates a really awkward situation for people — like, they haven’t thought about it, but once I ask, one of them feels like they ought to pay for them both, and then they’re all flustered — so anyway, lately I just don’t ask.”
Which would be a fascinating observation of social dynamics in any case, but it was particularly so because I’ve been filling my life with Thomas Hine’s work. One of the phenomena he writes about is what a tense moment the point-of-purchase is: the buyer feels judged by the seller; there’s concern about spending too much or too little; if the seller is rude or even simply disinterested, the buyer may feel regret and remorse, etc.
2. A girl asked me, “Okay, you want to know how to pick a graphic novel?”
“Sure.”
“If the cover is cute, and with, like, a cool font, then you look inside and see, you know, if the cartooning is good. And if it’s not, well, you can read the back and see if the story sounds like it might be kind of good, and then you might read it anyway.”
Ah, this time of year. It’s my favorite. I’ve written about it before — this time last year, logically enough.
What I didn’t say then: as the leaves turn, as the rain starts falling, it’s harder and harder to get me out of the house. That’s exacerbated this year because of my Summer-Full-Of-Travel. All I want to do is alternate between curling up with a book (or, god help me, a shelter magazine, because I’m that kind of girl), writing, being online, and puttering around the house, the stereo on, but not loud, so the music just adds a subtle evocative layer to the already-lovely experience of just being home. It’s the time of year I feel most like a hobbit, or a hibernating sort of mammal. Slowing down, contemplating, staring into space.
Sadly, my subconscious doesn’t comply. My dreams are ludicrously easy to interpret: I get out of my car while it’s still running. I watch it smash into one vehicle after another, and an aghast crowd watches, too. I’m in court, and it’s somehow also a job interview, and I’m justifying, explaining, rationalizing, and no one believes me.
What are your recurring anxiety dreams?
Depending on how long you’ve been reading this, you may or may not know that I recorded myself reading my first novel, Empress of the World, as a series of podcasts.
For your convenience, therefore, this post contains links to all of them:
EOTW01.mp3
EOTW02.mp3
EOTW03.mp3
EOTW04.mp3
EOTW05.mp3
EOTW06.mp3
EOTW07.mp3
EOTW08.mp3
EOTW09.mp3
EOTW10.mp3
EOTW11.mp3
EOTW12.mp3
EOTW13.mp3
EOTW14.mp3
EOTW15.mp3
EOTW16.mp3
I realize that this post begs the question of whether I’ll do more podcasts of myself reading The Rules for Hearts. We shall see…
…but I lost my results trying to format them properly.
Here are the highlights: Costume Designer was #1 (yay, Katrina would be proud!), Cartoonist/Illustrator was #12 (sure, if I could draw), Pet Groomer was like #19 or so (only Snag) and Writer was way down at #38.
No great loss. I know what y’all would rather see:
The last photo should really be an empty food dish to provide closure, but contrary to previous behavior, he failed to eat the bread.
1. Costume Designer — hurray! Katrina would be proud.
15. Computer Trainer — Another one I’ve done. And still do.
16. Animator — See above re: if I could draw.
17. Pet Groomer — Only Snag.
18. Multimedia Developer — “Developer”? Is that where I tell the people who actually can animate what to do?
19. Personal Trainer — “Do as I say, not as I do.”
20. Social Worker — See above re: psychologist.
21. Plasterer — Um.
22. Addictions Counselor — Sweet! Just like Waylon to Bubbles! (Sorry, obligatory Wire reference.)
23. Makeup Artist — If I wore any.
24. Magician — I’d make myself disappear.
25. Foreign Service Officer — If I knew more languages.
26. Professor — Considered this one seriously, too. Library school didn’t take as long.
27. School Counselor — If I could pick the students.
28. Comedian — No.
29. Casting Director — Yes.
30. Activist — Intermittently. Mostly via writing.
31. Graphic Designer — I think I’d love this, actually. With a bunch of training. And probably a new glasses prescription. Except, do you have to know how to draw?
32. Artist — See above re: cartoonist.
33. Print Journalist — I prefer fiction. Then again, so do some print journalists.
34. Critic — I am supremely unable to be objective.
35. ESL Teacher — See above re: Foreign Service Officer.
36. Foreign Language Instructor — And again!
37. Communications Specialist — I don’t even know what this means. PR?
38. Writer — Finally!
39. Musician — If there were more call for rusty violinists and untutored altos.
40. Computer Animator — Why does this test persist in thinking I can draw?
…that is more of an assemblage. Most of my “cooking” involves the combining of prepackaged items.
Seitan Soup with Orzo And Whatever Else Is Around, aka Sara’s comfort food standby
1 package White Wave chicken-style seitan
1 quart broth of some variety
As many minced cloves of garlic as seem delicious
Olive oil for sauteeing the seitan and garlic
A generous spoonful of herbes de provence
Handful of orzo
Salt and pepper to taste
Other stuff I have been known to add: a bunch of spinach, diced carrots, diced celery. You could probably add any number of other vegetables.
Assemblage: Pour off the broth that comes with the seitan, but reserve it. You’ll be adding it to the soup later. Cut up the seitan (you can use a knife or just pull it apart with your fingers — it’s gluten!) into bite-sized pieces. Mince the garlic. Heat the olive oil in whatever pot or saucepan you usually use to make soup. Add the garlic and seitan. Saute them until the garlic is softened, throw in the herbes de provence. If you’re adding carrots and celery, add them now, and saute them until they’ve softened. (The nature of seitan is such that you can’t really over-saute it, or at least I haven’t managed to personally.) Gradually add the reserved seitan broth, then the other broth. (Because I am not a vegetarian despite my fondness for seitan, I often use chicken broth.) Bring the mixture to a boil, then add the orzo. Cook until the orzo is done, usually, oh, twenty minutes or so.
Eat.