Thursday, December 4, 2008


I wrote a lot of lists while I was in the hospital. It's one of the most perfect ways to pass the time when you've been locked up and there is no hope of escaping. I mean, I could have spent the time trying to crawl out of the window, but that didn't seem very productive, especially since I was on the sixth floor; so instead, I wrote lists.

Why I Like Being Named Emily

It sounds lovely on others' voices

I share it with Emily Bronte

Many people think it beautiful

And Why I Hate It

I am Emily due only to my father's utter inside-the-box-ness

It is a nauseatingly common name and its popularity seems to have robbed me of a certain uniqueness

Many people find it boring


It's all true.

I wrote a lot of other lists as well, but I have kind of a phobia about posting creative work on the Internet. I'm quite scared of people finding words and phrases and plopping them into the middle of their novels or something ... but seriously, the most interesting things grow in your brain when you're locked up. I came up with some enormously weird ideas.

(Of course, I didn't just come up with lists -- there were plays, stories, poems, and essays in there as well.)

I just figured this would make for a vaguely interesting post.


Sunday, November 30, 2008

On Babysitting and Books to Read

I spent yesterday babysitting for a really marvelous baby girl. I am so glad to be able to do this again! I missed her so much in the hospital. Yesterday's highlights included the roll-the-ball-under-the-couch-and-watch-Emily-strain-to-get-it-out game, knocking on the wall because it results in an interesting sound, and seeing how many blocks we could heap on top of one another before they collapsed in our laps.

I don't really need much more than that, I have to say.

I am reading some wonderful books, including ...

The Green Man: Tales of the Mythic Forest, a collection of short stories by a bunch of wonderful authors, edited by Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow. If I go a while without reading fantasy, I tend to forget how much I like it. Only stories like these could be such a wake-up call.

Waifs and Strays by Charles de Lint. I read some of the stories in this book when I was about twelve years old and was extremely confused and a little disturbed. My mother told me to put it away and pick it up again in a few years. I did.

It was definitely worth it.

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. There are a lot of things about this book that just aren't very good, says the critical part of me (and there is a rather prominent critic in me because I review books).

This book is extremely catchy and enjoyable, says the hungry reader in me.

The hungry reader usually wins.

Wishing you good reading.