subscribe2008 and other such reminiscences
Wednesday December 31, 2008
I suppose this is the obligatory “year in review” post. I never really write these accurately. They always turn into much longer, ramblier reminiscences.
I find myself thinking about the past year usually around my birthday in November, simply because the birthday milestone always strikes me more deeply than the new year’s milestone. (Their relative proximity helps.) I usually can’t remember to write the new year’s date until past April, anyway. I’m usually good throughout January but into February and March I have a last year’s date relapse until in April I start writing the correct year automatically. Then I find sometimes in September I’ll accidentally write “2007″ or “2002″ or whatever the case happens to be and I’ll stare at the paper, say, “It’s September, for goodness’ sake!” and then giggle at the date.
It’s flurrying presently and with the windchill it feels about 20 degrees Fahrenheit which both adds to the new year’s flavor and makes me very happy that Bryan and I are not the sort to want to go to Times Square to watch the ball drop this evening. I haven’t yet met any person who lives in New York City who has any desire to actually go do that. (Especially in rain or snow.) Additionally I haven’t met any residents who live/work in Manhattan who like being around tourists. For the most part the tourists walk slowly, gawk, and get in the way of New Yorkers attempting to go about their daily routines, and if you know anything about the New Yorker stereotype you know we’re all impatient, ornery, and loud-mouthed. (It doesn’t take more than a month or two of residence or employment here to develop at least one of those traits. Even my very even-tempered friends feel the New Yorker temperament pulling at them.)
But back to the “year in review” part. (See? I’m bad at staying on-topic.) 2008 was busy. Busy and full of change, but looking back, nearly every year I’ve ever had has been both busy and full of changes. If I look back and call a year “slow and boring and all the same” I will cry. That’s not living life well, to my mind.
2009 will, in all likelihood, be busier than 2008. In 2009 there will be an epically historic presidential inauguration, my bridal shower, our wedding, our annual ski trip to Utah, our honeymoon to the Caribbean, two Pennsylvania receptions in May for the March wedding, and then a move from our current studio apartment once this lease is up at the start of the summer. I can’t wait to move to a bigger place. After the move, who knows what will happen in 2009. Hopefully the economy will be back up (or getting up), things won’t seem nearly as bleak in general when we look out at the future.
2008 started with us as we were at the end of 2007. Bryan was working as an investment banker, gone most of the week and when he was home he was either exhausted or too wired, mostly glued to his computer while I was glued to mine. We watched a lot of television; I did a lot of stuff alone, like eat dinners and listen to music and pretend to work out on our home’s elliptical. Over the summer, things got weird and interesting. Bryan got pounded by his bosses. He pulled all-nighters and had no time to breathe. He got to the point where he could not countenance working there any longer and took a leave of absence in July. During the leave he called up a contact and arranged an interview — and found himself another job. He formally quit and moved jobs in August and then we found ourselves in a strange place. We were finally able to set a date for the wedding, now that Bryan’s job wasn’t going to be able to keep him from attending it (as might have been the case with banking). Bryan was working normal business hours (9 to 5 or 6) instead of banker’s hours (9 to 12 or 2am) and we had so much more time together. We had to rearrange the studio apartment to give us some peace and some more space to work; we started eating meals and enjoying the city together. Things settled back to normal for the fall and in November I threw myself into NaNoWriMo with gusto, ultimately winning. December burred by in activity associated with the wedding and now it’s finally at the end of the year.
This year I read a lot of books, though I feel as if I read more at the end of 2007 than I did for most of 2008. Even so I encountered a lot of new authors. I accomplished a lot with my books and my worlds, though I wasn’t as consistent a worker as I could have or should have been. I look forward to 2009 as I look forward to every new day: I know I can be better than I have been and I’ll keep striving for that.
Now at the end of 2008 I’ve been tremendously busy with wedding planning stuff and in early 2009 I imagine it’ll only get worse and more hectic. Only a few people are coming to this wedding and it’s taking up so much of my energy to plan it. I can’t even imagine having a wedding involving hundreds of guests. (I can barely imagine the cost, either.) But 2009 will bring that wedding and it’ll happen regardless of whether or not it goes off perfectly or with a few hitches. I’m confident things will work out and I’m trying somewhat desperately to not be a nitpicker, perfectionist, or obsessive control freak about every detail. I’m trying to be calm and relaxed about it all. We’ll see how it all ends up.
What else happened in 2008?
It was the first full year of my life I didn’t attend any school, as I can recall. (I started nursery school full-time in September of the year I turned 3 that November, with pre-school the year after that. I started Kindergarten at 4.)
I look back and marvel at how fast all of it went by. What happened in 2008? The seasons changed, the layout of the apartment changed, we explored more of Manhattan than we ever have… we got older. And it’s done already. I remember thinking, back in the late 1990s, that 2010 was so far away. But as of tomorrow, 2010 will be next year. I’m… flabbergasted. I still remember when that year seemed something futuristic, unreal.
I think sometimes that the years I spent in high school were the longest years of my life and every year that leads me further from that time makes that sentiment all the more real. These years beyond that have gone by fast — speed-of-light quickly, a few of them. Like the college years. I was having too much fun for time of have lingered pleasantly around those years. “Time flies when you’re having fun” and all of that? Why is it so true? I didn’t have a lot of fun in high school and the days seemed to hang on me. For a lot of it, I was miserably focused on work, reading, and writing, not really looking up and staring at the world beyond a vague wish/prayer for it to be over as soon as could be arranged. Perhaps most of my elementary and secondary schooling years were that long. Fifth grade seemed to take an eternity. Eighth grade was a good year, I think; that one went fast.
I guess I’m glad 2008 is over. 2007 being over was much more somber because it meant so many things were real. 2008 ending is just a year ending. I’m looking forward to too many things in 2009 to be forlorn about this year’s end.
So happy new year, everyone. I hope your 2009 is exciting.
Christmas Eve
Wednesday December 24, 2008
This year marks an interesting change in my usual Christmas Eve experience. It’s the first time I’ve ever spent it without my parents. Not only that but Bryan and I aren’t really doing anything very special. We’re planning to make some baked brie (using some pizza crust that comes in a can?!) and some interesting spinach-y pinwheel things, inspired by some spinach puffs made by a pizza place we enjoy. Otherwise we’ll be watching TV and hanging out in front of our computers for a while.
I mean, should we be doing something more for Christmas Eve? I have fond memories of going to Christmas Eve church services but in recent years the service at my old church near my parents’ has been uncomfortable, mostly due to the new pastor who is a little weird. I don’t know any churches, really, in our neighborhood, nor would Bryan probably be amenable or excited by the prospect of going to church tonight. He was raised Jewish and as such doesn’t really feel comfortable being in a church, even for a service as festive and unusual as the Christmas Eve service.
It all leaves me with this strange displaced feeling. Christmas time really is here but it doesn’t really feel like it yet. Maybe I can blame it on the fact that retailers have said it’s been Christmas since Halloween, so it’s gone on so long it feels strange. To add to that, we don’t have any overtly Christmas-y things in the apartment. We really don’t have a tree (or room for a tree, though we have a tiny potted evergreen bush/tree); I put up some LED lights and I have a bunch of holly-scented candles and some fun red garland and a few ornaments decorating the apartment, but it feels a little anti-climactic. I think what I need is for something really fun and Christmas-y to be on TV tonight, or maybe I need to blast some of Josh Groban or Kristin Chenoweth’s Christmas albums (or Hanson’s…don’t judge me!) and get in the mood for tomorrow. Tomorrow will feel more “normal” Christmas — going to my parents for Christmas dinner and presents and dessert. I’m really looking forward to that.
Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Happy 4th night of Hanukkah, everyone!
(Which reminds me — note to self: buy a menorah so you have it for next year…)
Winter wonderland?
Friday December 19, 2008
It’s been snowing for most of the day here in New York City and it’s mushy outside. It hardly even looked like it was snowing but for the accumulation. The Christmas tree sellers who are camped on the sidewalk outside our apartment building put a little tree on a post near their hut:
It’s probably the closest I’m going to get to seeing a snow-covered Christmas tree this Christmas, but hey, it’s New York — I could take the trek and brave the tourists down at Rockefeller Center, if I really wanted.
When New York City gets “blanketed” it’s never very pretty unless it’s the big white flake kind of snow that accumulates in quantities of at least 6 inches or a foot. Otherwise it’s grayish or mushy or icy.
When I was in high school, interning at a publishing company in Manhattan, there was a snowstorm in February that dumped almost two feet of snow on the city. Suburbs getting that much is one thing but it rarely happens in the city itself. I was up to my knees in it. What was miraculous about that storm was how silent it made the city. Cars couldn’t move; people hardly dared venture outside. None who braved the drifts (myself included) were really dressed as they should have been for stomping around in crazy snow. People in New York are certainly over-prepared for cold weather (the wind can cut between buildings with a pierching chill cold enough to rival my coldest ski mountain experiences) but the sheer quantity of that much snow left most people unprepared. Usually, though, if it’s snowing the sidewalks and streets are [pretty] clean almost immediately so usually you don’t even need snow boots, as you would in the suburbs where you probably have to trudge through your driveway to shovel it.
Anyway I bet the snow won’t stick around for long. It never really does. Hopefully I’ll get to enjoy it a little tomorrow.
Chalice by Robin McKinley
Friday December 12, 2008
Last night before bed I finished Chalice by Robin McKinley. Having read every novel she’s written, it was an interesting contrast to her “canon,” if you will. Chalice was like no other book she’s written and yet it was also clearly Robin McKinley, having hints of everything she’s written woven throughout, jumping out at me at intervals to evoke images of The Blue Sword or Outlaws of Sherwood or Deerskin or even Sunshine.
I enjoyed it a lot, but it brought up a lot of issues with me (independent of the novel itself) that I found I was thinking about while reading this, especially because I read her blog and have a sense of who she is apart from her novels — and because I analyzed two of her books for my senior honors thesis and because of that I find I think of those books often.
Firstly, the book was not broken into chapters but sections and parts, similarly to Sunshine. The third person narration was smooth and zigzagged and jumped back and forth through the story’s timeline to flesh out the characters and narrative in a way that was distinctly McKinley and natural, but in a way I think may confuse young readers. (Even The Hero and the Crown‘s structure tripped me up as a precocious 14-year-old when I first read it.) Mirasol is really well-drawn and she was full of contradictions and she made mistakes and learned from them. I liked that bit a lot. (Of course I always like protagonists who are (1) clumsy, (2) mistake- or accident-prone, (3) full of faults or have one large fault, either recognized or not, etc.) The Master is also terrifically interesting, flawed, mysterious, and unusual. None of the other characters really stuck with me in anything more than in a “name-with-description” sort of way, though, and while I don’t mind in this case, I think I would have been bored with this story had it not pulled me along with a series of quick scenes, bursts of image and snippets of world-building detail, and a very tight attention to the storyline. The plot simply follows Mirasol’s perspective as she works to orient herself to her new position and then heal her land, second-guessing herself the whole way, which was interesting in that this book was really solely about Mirasol. I suppose I’ve read enough books lately with multiple plots or converging storylines that it took me a moment to settle into this narrative but in hindsight I really did appreciate and enjoy it.
The book was also short. I found I was mostly through it before I realized and I was pleasantly surprised about it. It felt right, too. I love it when a novel seems to stretch to perfectly fit inside the space in which it is written, rather than having a feeling of being condensed or too drawn out. It is lovely when a novel hints at a richness of world but only hints, rather than demanding to show you everything the author has come up with and figured out. I always prefer worlds where the author clearly knows ten times more about the world than any reader will ever actually know — or at least the author succeeds in giving the impression of such a rich world and tricks the reader into believing his/her mastery of it.
The language was consistent and distinctly British-y, with an old flavor to its diction, vocabulary and its prose in general that I both enjoyed but found I was hesitating over, wondering how young would be too young to encounter this book. Its story and themes lean toward the G-rated fairy tale at times but its language is much thicker and more difficult than a reader younger than middle school would be able to chew through easily, nor would it probably sustain the interest of a younger reader. Bryan is someone who was — and still is — frustrated by books where the language is more of a barrier to image than a vehicle for its further evocation, if that makes sense. I find myself often writing to a Bryan reader, or a younger version of myself, as my imagined reader (I always find I write with one in mind). This imagined reader is rarely the Chalice sort of reader.
In that regard I kept finding myself wondering about literacy issues and getting children and young adults into reading in this age of computers, video games, and instant-gratification entertainment. I’m fiercely interested in attracting readers who may normally not read a book and get them into my world, to pull them in deep enough that they might want to stay a while. This is not to say that a book like Chalice can’t do that but I think it’s a harder sell to a kid than say, Twilight, which is a terribly sad thing, considering how beautiful, warm, evocative, and wonderful Chalice was compared to… well. I won’t rehash it here.
I wondered, during and after reading Chalice, if Robin McKinley, with a book like Chalice, could be considered a writer’s writer. And if so, is that a good thing? I think it is. Heck, I want writers to read my work and say, “Her writing is something.” Don’t all of us want that kind of peer-level validity?
Look at where this “review” has gone. I’m so terrible at reviews, aren’t I? I riff, really, which is definitely why I do call them “reactions” — I think that’s a more accurate term.
Back to a “review”: I liked it. It’s my first hardcover purchase in who knows how long (I am cheap and proud to admit that I use libraries and second hand books and all of that to get my reader’s appetite fulfilled) and I’m glad I made it. I’ll read it again. It was multilayered. Its world was relatively simple and clean — no messy histories or backstories thrown in, but hinted at, slowly brought in as it pertains to the main plot. Which I loved. While there was a lot of telling — a lot of telling — the language was lovely and the scenes she threw in between the exposition to show earned those passages of expository telling. None of the passages seemed inserted or forced, which can really irratate me in a fantasy novel. Everything fit with the style of the narrative, as well. So yes, I recommend it.
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