Granted, I would have known to steer clear had I actually read the book’s description:

Enduring a hardscrabble existence as the children of alcoholic and absent parents, four siblings from a coastal Mississippi town prepare their meager stores for the arrival of Hurricane Katrina while struggling with such challenges as a teen pregnancy and a dying litter of prize pups.

Dying litter of prize pups. Yeah. Not so much.

So I put the book down, a mere 20 pages into it. And yeah it’s a national prize winner. And yes, after watching Treme’s first two seasons, I fervently believe that Katrina-related literature is so very important.

But I’m too sensitive for dying puppies.

The thing is, although I’ve got this soft streak, I also hate that my sensitivity often makes me feel left out. I know right now, I will absolutely not finish “Salvage the Bones”, no matter how many accolades it receives. And so, I’ll miss out on one of the most important books of the year.

Last night, I felt a little like I did when walking out of that movie theater 20-some years ago. Like giving in to my sensitive side is something to be ashamed of, to be made fun of for. And last night, like 20 years ago, I also realized that once you’ve felt that, it’s hard to un-feel it. Once you’ve read about… (edited, but it has to do with puppies)… it’s impossible to un-imagine it.

(Kind of like reading the synopsis of “The Human Centipede”. EWWWW.)

I suppose this is the catch of being an avid reader. Devouring books also sometimes means getting inside the book so deeply it’s tough to crawl out. Living in my imagination, even for a few dozen pages, means it’s impossible to un-remember those vivid words.

Read: January 7 – 13, 2010
Overview: Loved it by the end
Read again? Possibly

In 1942 in Seattle, a young Chinese-American boy meets a young Japanese-American girl. This novel reflects on the ideas of patriotism, racism, and love during the days of the Japanese internment camps in World War II.

Initially slow for me to love, by the last few pages, I found myself wishing the story would continue.

Spoiler Alert: If you’re going to read this, don’t read any futher! I tell all!

Jaime Ford’s novel begins with Henry, a Chinese-American man living in Seattle in the 80s. The Panama Hotel has just been purchased, and a shocking discovery is made. The basement is full of suitcases and boxes and bags, containing the most precious photos and beloved items from Japanese families who had been ‘evacuated’ to internment camps during the later days of WWII. For the first few chapters, we’re not clear why this discovery meant so much to Henry, but we soon find out that his first love – even before he knew what love was – was a Japanese girl named Keiko, one of the thousands who were put into the camps.

As the story progresses, Ford switches between the war days and the 80s, as Henry falls in love in the past, and moves slowly through the present world, searching for a precious record that he gave to Keiko and taking care of the eldery jazz saxophonist who became his friend as a child.

While the ultimate outcome of the plot – that Henry indeed be able to find the record, and seek out Keiko after forty years – could be predicted, the way the story gradually unfolds is beautiful, compelling and full of hope.

The only real criticism of the book, for me, is that Henry’s dialog can come across as too staged, too awkward. I could easily hear his ‘voice’ when reading the exposition, but when he spoke, it sounded less like conversation and just like more exposition. His quiet personality was so clear through the book, and I wanted the dialog to be equally reflective.

I wouldn’t place “Hotel” on the list of my top ten reads ever, but it is one of those rare stories where the final chapters are perfectly crafted and entirely satisfying. Initially slow to get into, the more I read, the more I was compelled to keep reading. By the end, I found myself closing the book and smiling through slightly teary eyes.

(Also posted on Shelfari.)

Read: January 1 – 6, 2010
Overview: So-so
Read again? No thanks.

Intertwining the stories of two characters, one living in Paris during the Nazi occupation, and the other going through a mid-life crisis in modern-day Paris, de Rosnay’s novel is full of potential that, for me at least, was never realized.

Spoiler Alert: If you’re going to read this, don’t read any futher! I tell all!

Paralleling the lives of 45 year old American expat (and writer) Julia with Sarah, a 10 year old arrested and deported during the 1942 Vel d’Hiv roundups seems unbalanced. In one chapter, Julia struggles with a decision to abort her long-desired baby or lose her jerk-wad of a husband. In the next, Sarah survives the knowledge that she killed her little brother by locking him in a cabinet for “safety” and fights to escape the Nazis. Hmm. Gee. Yeah. That’s a comparison alright.

de Rosnay highlighted that parallel by switching from Julia’s story to Sarah’s story nearly every chapter… for the first half of the book, any way. With a hundred or more pages left, suddenly, Sarah’s voice disappears. I could understand this if it was a symbol of her life in some way. Perhaps she had been captured by the Nazis again? Perhaps she had gotten sick? Moved away? Died? Closed the door on her struggle to accept the death of her family? We find out the entire trajectory of Sarah’s life at the end of the book, after Julia meets Sarah’s surviving relatives in the United States, but I could see no real reason for the jarring and unsatisfying narrative shift.

On top of the concept, the utter predictability of Julia’s plot line was compelling in a train-wreck sort of way. I kept reading strictly to see if I was right in guessing every “twist”. For example, Julie spends several chapters casually mentioning her family’s upcoming move into an old apartment in central Paris. What a coincidence! Sarah’s apartment is in the very same neighborhood! Naturally, when Julia began to research the Vel d’Hiv, it was no surprise that she found Sarah’s family had been the original owners of her swanky new flat. And then, when Julia got divorced, common sense would guess she’d fall in love with Sarah’s son. At one point, I mentioned one of my guesses to Sandra, saying I’d have to throw the book across the room if Julia named her new daughter “Sarah”. It’s probably no surprise that I ended up tossing the book, nearly missing two dogs and a Swedish vase in the process.

Although I enjoyed the historical background to the novel, I consistently wished that the story had been honed and delivered by a more talented storyteller. The life that de Rosnay created for Sarah was full of tragedy and intrigue and excitement. Julia, as a character, was harder to enjoy. She had nothing positive to say about her brute of a husband from the beginning of the story. So, how are we to empathize with her debate whether to choose him or her unborn child? Worse, the character of Julia seemed to repeat herself a lot, to hit the reader over the head with her situation or thoughts. After spending several chapters thinking about being pregnant, talking about her previous horrible miscarriages, and wondering whether or not to abort or get a divorce, she actually states, “I ordered apple juice instead of wine because I was pregnant.” Did she really need to point that out again?

I found myself wishing the story was truly about Sarah alone, and once Sarah’s voice disappeared from the narrative, I raced through the remaining chapters in hopes that the story would improve or be redeemed by a unique and unpredictable turn.

It may sound like I’m being overly harsh for my first book review here, and the first of 2010. Maybe I am. I wanted to like this novel, and that’s the heart of the problem. We’re always more critical when the room for improvement is obvious, and in this case, I felt left down that the high potential for a groundbreaking and eye opening work was never achieved. I was too distracted by the imbalance in language and voice, and too discontent with the predictable plot.

Celebrating the arrival of my second book! Yes, you can get it from Amazon by clicking that link over at the right. Want it autographed? You can also order from my store, Make One Yarn Studio. (That way I can sign it and ship it out to you! Yay!) If you’re in Calgary, please do come to the official Book Launch Party, next Saturday April 28 at the store from 7pm – 10pm. We’ll have nibbles and wine and all kinds of good fun.

Starting another Emerald! I’ll be teaching a class on this baby starting on Thursday, so thought it prudent to cast on last night. I also really wanted to try out another size of the Lantern Moon Ebony circulars. Man, I love these needles. I’m generally quite addicted to my Addis, but these really are making me think twice. The cable is so unkinky without any manipulation or work, and the joins are quite good. The cable twists, ensuring that it’s never in the “wrong” position for very long. I don’t think they’d be as good for knitting fine yarns loosely, as for lace, but for this, they’re a dream! (Plus, they make a nice clicky sound, sort of like what my fingers feel when they play piano. I love it.)

I’m knitting a second Emerald to make this one a smaller size. The old one is now too big and sloppy on me. I’m also trying it out with a belt instead of a button, and maybe without the fold-over collar. While the current pattern is available free on Knitty, I’m planning on releasing an enhanced and updated pattern through indiKnits later in the summer. So. Reworking. It’s not a bad thing.

Working on those argyle knee socks. It’s going well, probably better than these photos suggest. Me and the Intarsia have developed a way of peacefully coexisting… so much so that I’m actually really enjoying this fiddly process. What’s developing is quite beautiful and quite satisfying. But, I can’t say it’s not developing slooooowly.

Finishing up this felted bag. This one is for a crochet class at the shop next Saturday. It is an original design, and I find it quite fun. The best part? The actual crochet took less than 2 hours, as far as I can tell. (I wasn’t really counting.) Seriously, though, it worked up really quickly and was a blast. Considering it looks like I’ll be writing a longish technique article on fulling crochet soon, it was a good warm up to get me thinking.

And now, for a quick medical update… I saw my GP on Wednesday, and really do love her. She doesn’t overreact to things, but she also doesn’t underreact either. We had a nice chat about the mood things, the bleeding, etc, and she suggested I stick through it to the end of this pack… 2 weeks away… and see if things calm down. If they don’t, she thought they’d be unlikely to improve no matter how long I’m on the pill. And if they don’t improve, she suggested I stop the pill next month and then talk to the specialist when I see her in June. Sounds good to me. I can make it through 2 weeks.

For anyone who really cares about such things, the decision to go on the pill to control my bleeding wasn’t a rash decision. I’ve been doing every test and procedure in the book for going on 12 years now to try to get this under control. When I was just not having a period for 6-9 months at a time, that was bearable. But having it constantly for a year has made it a little more urgent to find a solution of some kind. But yes, I have had every possible test and tried about 6 different solutions before going on the pill. I mean, it’s not like I need birth control! So, the next few options may be Metformin, or doing an endometrial ablation. (The D&C did nothing except knock me out of commission for a few days.) In any case, I really relate well to all my doctors right now, probably for the first time in my life. I have a neurologist who I find hilarious, an Ob/Gyn who talks to me like a real person and doesn’t talk down, and possibly the best GP in the world. So. We’ll see. Not rushing into anything, and definitely not jumping the gun. I will just be happy if we find a solution that gets my body back under control.

And I promise, this is the last I’ll be talking about this on here for a little while. At least until there’s something new to report.

From Amazon, at least. I haven’t seen it yet, and it seems like I probably won’t until after April 2…. bummer! Anyhow, go check it out. A few minutes ago, there were only 4 left in stock. Yay me!

This top started out a scarf. The yarn is Cloud 9 from Cascade, a luscious mix of angora and merino. It’s fluffy, and fuzzy, and really, really, really did not want to be a scarf. I used exactly the 5 balls I was sent for this top, and am quite pleased that it not only fits the target size, it’s also pretty flattering.

The bottom portion is done in a stitch I cobbled together from extended single crochet stitches and chains. I forget where I read about the wonder that is the extended single crochet… someone on one of the blogs I read was raving about it a few months ago. This top was my first time to experiment with the stitch. I found it created a really drapey, really delicate fabric, especially when compared with more dense crochet stitches.

The waistband is done in a seed stitch, and the top portion finished off in another variation on extended single crochet. And it’s crocheted in one piece from the neck down.

Originally, this one was meant to be a cropped cardigan, but then I didn’t run out of yarn very quickly, and it decided to be this keyhole-neckline feminine top. So. This is how design works with me, sometimes. I’m always happier if I let the yarn be what it wants.

Did you watch the Oscars last night? We did, despite seeing only 3 of the movies nominated in any category all night long. (For those keeping track, that would be “Little Miss Sunshine”, “The Queen”, and “Marie Antoinette”.)

Having Tivo was a very good thing, as we not only started watching late, the sound was doing a weird thing and I couldn’t always understand what the voiceover was saying while people walked to the stage to get their award. I felt very old, saying, “Why don’t they turn that music down! I can’t hear!” over and over again.

It was also really handy for rewinding for that Melissa/Tammy kiss, and other cool moments. Now, I haven’t spent a lot of time online yet to read recaps, but as of last night, I hadn’t seen anyone complaining or kvetching about the blatant display of lesbian affection. That makes me really happy.

I’m not only thrilled that Melissa Etheridge won an Academy Award, I’m also thrilled that she, like 99% of the other winners, thanked her wife. I love that. I’m a firm believer that equality will come when we stop being seen as so different from heterosexual relationships. I also believe that being present in the world makes the biggest difference.

Not that I haven’t marched in parades (Edmonton Pride, 2002), petitioned, phoned, (Gay Marriage fight, 2004), been interviewed on national TV (Global, 2005), and generally been a pretty active political figure, but I do believe that just living my daily life will, in the long run, do more to change people’s minds from fear to acceptence.

It’s been an odd thing, with the store. Sandra and I are never the kind of people to hide who we are, but at the same time, realizing that a large portion of our customer base may think they’ve never met a gay person at all… it’s a tough balance. Over the past year (year!), we’ve largely treated the store as we would any other job. Working together is not a romantic date, although we do have fun about 95% of the time. And yet, I don’t think anyone who wants to know doesn’t know we are together.

It’s interesting, as we watched Ellen’s interview on Barbara Walters after the Oscars, how much the world as we know it has changed even in the past 10 years that I’ve been out. I came out about a year after Ellen, and I watched her career (and her love life) completely tank overnight. Today, I don’t think that would happen. Yesterday, we had an out woman hosting the Oscars, another one performing and winning for best original song, and both shown with their spouses, just like everyone else. No fanfare, no controversy, no uproar.

Well, this has been plenty long of an entry, and I have to get finishing some crochet projects. I still have 6 left; 2 of which Alana is working on, 1 that just needs some finishing, 1 that’s half done, as of last night, and 2 more to go. I have today until 4pm, and I have tomorrow, all day and night. Totally doable.

And oh yeah, Melissa? I’ll be seeing you in 3 weeks and 6 days. Not that I’m counting!

I figured out yesterday that I have to start (and finish) a project a day to meet the deadline. Now, some of the projects left are tiny and will take less than four hours. And, I’m thankfully done (or almost done) with most of the biggies.

The one I’ve been working obsessively on for the past 48 hours is a v-neck cardigan in Lion & Lamb, in the new color, Red Rover. This stuff makes such a nice, drapey fabric when crocheted. But, as I’m nearing the last few raglan rounds, I think I’ve realized the sweater really should be at least knee length, instead of hitting just at the hip.

It’s sometimes hard to put these thoughts aside and focus on what has to get done, when some little detail pops up that would make the piece so much better, so much more successful. My master plan is to do what I have to, and then go back and do what I can. So, the optional belt for the brown berry cardigan can be left until later. And, adding length to the red silk monster can be left until later as well.

Having had a look through most of the crochet pattern books on the market right now, I’m getting increasingly excited about this one. It’s fun to be designing things I’m really proud of, I’m really interested in. And, for the most part, I do feel like this collection is un-compromised. So, yay! And, this is only the things I’m designing. I’ve got several fabulously talented folks working away on their projects too.

In the meantime, while crocheting furiously, I’m tempting myself with dangling carrots of future projects. I may have cast on for a new design in Malabrigo Merino Worsted, but I still have my Sanctuary sweater(s) to finish up, a sock, my Print o’ the Wave stole, and probably even more.

I do get/have to start knitting again for tomorrow night’s class on the Vogue cabled bolero, featured in the most recent issue. I’m teaching the class, so it’s a good thing to know what I’m teaching. That’s on the list for tonight.

So. Off to the shop. And class. And crochet. And newsletter writing. And on. And on. And on.

The good news is that y’all only have to hear about this particular crochet book for the next 3 weeks or so. The other bit of good news is that 15 of the 25 projects are either done or entirely not my responsibility to design and crochet. Yay! Another 5 of those 25 have the patterns written and the garments in progress. That leaves me with 5 from scratch, which feels definitely doable this morning.

What can I say? I’m in an optimistic mood, I guess!

My current favorite is photographed above. It’s a long, unstructured cardigan, perhaps to be worn with a belt, crocheted in Cascade Dolce (Alpaca, Wool, Silk, oh my!). Because it’s long and loose, I’m really grateful to be working with a G7/4.5mm hook on this one! I’ve got the back (as photographed above) and both fronts done, and am just starting on the sleeves. So. Another day or so and it’ll be done as well. And, this is a really big project. We’re not talking strappy tank here!

On the flip side of things, this beautiful mess is two skeins of Curious Creek Gombe alpaca. A gorgeous yarn, but I made a few critical errors early on in the project and it all needs to be ripped back and refigured. I think, at this point, I may scrap the original concept and showcase the yarn in a simpler stitch pattern instead. What makes the frogging worse is that I’m double-stranding the yarn here. That means slow going on the ribbing out.

Mixed in, you’ll see a couple of balls of Alchemy bamboo. These are heading off to Alana today for a skirt design that I should be writing up this minute. So. I think I’ll get to it.

What you see above are the products of the last five hours of work. It’s a stack of contracts and contibutor agreements to be mailed out, covering my two Not Your Mama’s books. On the bottom is the author contract, newly signed, for my newest book, Sensual Crochet. And, in the middle are some addresses to where I need to ship pattern samples and indiknits order forms for the TNNA tradeshow this week.

It never fails to surprise me, how much time this organization and paperwork takes to get together. When I think of writing a book, I think of the time writing, the time designing, the time working with other contributors, the editors, and the publisher. I don’t always think of the contract preparation time, the time to solicit yarn from manufacturers, and all the assorted shipping, mailing, emailing, and checking in.

Sometimes I find it funny that, in a previous part of my life, I was a project manager. After all, what I do in my current life is just an extension of the same skills, as far away as my day might seem from life at Critical Mass more than two years ago. I still make spreadsheets, still track deadlines, still work with a team of people aligned to similar goals. I still organize, and remind, and plan. I still do all these things, except now, I am called author. I am called entrepreneur.

So much more romantic, don’t you think?

What’s not romantic is my decided lack of time lately. We leave for vacation, quite early in the morning, exactly 2 weeks from today. This leaves me with 13 more days to move an overwhelmingly large amount of tasks from “To Do” to “Completed”. This morning, I woke up to emails asking for things I had forgotten, for reminders popping up on my iCal of things that will be due any day. And tomorrow, I’m at the store to teach, and so Sandra can be home to wait for our new stove to be delivered. And Thursday, and Friday, and Saturday, and Sunday will be full of inventory, ordering, receiving, and store organizing. Full of January Sock Club and new classes, and following up on customer requests.

The time, she sure does fly. But will I be sitting on a beach in just over 2 weeks? You bet. Beaching and crocheting and knitting. And probably Corona-ing. With lime, of course.

Oh dear! What will I wear?