Nerdy Looks Good on You
Musings of a bibliophile: A connection between what is real, and what may be real. Oh, and book reviews.
Monday, January 11, 2016
The man who sold the world found the stars today.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
October in the Chair
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Take the Donuts (AFP)
I'm obsessed with this idea. Be you. Let people help you be you. Let people give you donuts. Recently I had a chat with a friend about how sometimes I feel like a fake because my circle of friends is extremely creative - musicians, artists, librarians, authors, video game designers - and I am not. He told me that, though I feel like a fake - ahem, fraud - I am not. The others see me as creative, too. Me? Really? I was (and am!) flattered and hope I can continue with my artsy projects* so I feel less like a fraud. I'll probably keep my day job and take a pass on becoming a statue, but I will most definitely continue writing. I'm going to keep Pining dorky things on Pinterest. I'm going to keep sending unicorn memes to my friend.
Taking the donuts is hard for a lot of people.
It’s not the act of taking that’s so difficult, it’s more the fear of what other people are going to think when they see us slaving away at our manuscript about the pure transcendence of nature and the importance of self-reliance and simplicity. While munching on someone else’s donut.
Maybe it comes back to that same old issue: we just can’t see what we do as important enough to merit the help, the love.
Try to picture getting angry at Einstein devouring a donut brought to him by his assistant, while he sat slaving on the theory of relativity. Try to picture getting angry at Florence Nightingale for snacking on a donut while taking a break from tirelessly helping the sick.
To the artists, creators, scientists, non-profit-runners, librarians, strange-thinkers, start-uppers and inventors, to all people everywhere who are afraid to accept the help, in whatever form it’s appearing,
Please, take the donuts.
To the guy in my opening band who was too ashamed to go out into the crowd and accept money for his band,
Take the donuts.
To the girl who spent her twenties as a street performer and stripper living on less than $700 a month who went on to marry a best-selling author who she loves, unquestioningly, but even that massive love can’t break her unwillingness to accept his financial help, please….
Everybody.
Please.
Just take the fucking donuts.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Hawthorne: The House of the Seven Gables
Can I tell you a secret, though? I had never read this book. Not in high school, not in college. Never. GASP. I'm not finished yet, but I had a real-life experience that related so greatly to the beginning of those book that I couldn't wait to share it with you.
This gothic novel, written in the 1850s, is about family history dealing with guilt, shame, atonement, witchcraft, and the supernatural. Although it's written in sort of a matter of fact manner, the content is quite intense. Today, we'll simply talk about the pre-story. That of the house being built in the 1700s.
In the first pages: "Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm."
The land on which this house was built is nearby a beautiful stream, and Colonel Pycheon built the home in order to pass it on to future generations of Pycheons. The problem was, the man who owned the land, Matthew Maule, who is poor and seen by members of the town as a bit strange, refuses to sell it to Pycheon. So, Pycheon uses the Witch Trials as an opportunity... He accuses Poor Maule of being a witch - he's murdered by the "judges" in Salem, and the land is turned over to Pycheon. Terrible. Maule's last words: "God will give him blood to drink". Of course, when Pycheon dies mysteriously in his home, and when he is discovered he has blood in his mouth. Where were the lawyers? Where was the documentation of who owned the land?
While reading this part of the book, I attended work meeting with several individuals around the county to discuss a large fundraising event I'm helping to plan. In those meetings, we talked with people who founded/work for nonprofits in the area that promote land protection for the greater good. For example, one organization uses old records from the City of Salem to determine who the official owners of land are. One individual shared stories with us about families who were given land in the 1700s in a town north of here called Essex. The land was to be used as wood lots - it was too swampy to live on and too rocky to farm on. Assignment of the properties was completed, mostly, verbally and very few actual measurements were used. Families knew their land "ended at the big, overgrown tree", for example. As coal became a primary heating source in the 1800s, the woodlots became used less and less and the ownership became more and more murky. Now, in the 2000s, there are some parcels of land that should be taxed but sit empty, and it is unclear who owns them. So, this small nonprofit uses its resources to review old records in hopes of finding the families who own the parcels, and convince them to create a conservation restriction on the land - then the land can be used for trails and other public use.
As the woman from this small nonprofit explained this all to me, I couldn't help but think of Pycheon and Maule. Their story could never existed but for the distribution of land with little or no record and the increase in use of coal for heating. As I sat in this meeting listening to this history of the region, I started thinking about how sometimes there are lessons in life that are so obvious and sometimes there are lessons in life that sneak up on us, and sometimes there are lessons that we learn without ever even really learning them. It never occurred to the settlers around Essex that the woodlots would become obsolete some day so they never felt the need to document more clearly who owned them. There was a sense of trust that we can not understand in our modern society. Was it better to leave the land ownership up to interpretation and to trust your neighbors? Maule would say "no", that's for sure. Would Pycheon be so lucky with his witch accusation if there was a document showing Maule owned the land? I think not.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Books & Graves: Little Women
So, visiting the grave of the creator of one of my first literary role models was an experience I will always place on list of "Woah. I did that." moments. And, I had my brave, bright, friendly little girl, L-Bear, with me. She laughed and waved at strangers wandering by. I felt so proud to be her mommy. The pile of pens in front of Alcott's grave reminded me that, although sometimes we very very alone and scared and awkward, we are all simply trying to "be". Trying to be ourselves. Trying to be part of this community. Trying to be an individual. So, write. Read. Shave your head. Dress like a man (or a lady). Do whatever it is that makes you feel like you. Make Louisa proud.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Untitled by Anonymous.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Review: Devil in the White City by Eric Larson
Woah.
I'm not even sure how to feel. No mystery here - Larson puts it all out there. This is a book about a serial killer and about the Chicago World Fair. The writing was very conversational, which at times could be hard to handle... Especially when Larson described Holmes and his murders. But... It also added to the creativeness of the book itself. How better to describe the doings of a psychopath than my describing his activities in a very casual manner?
Holmes was a terrible person. The World Fair was a perfect back drop for this tale: The juxtaposition of his cunning murders against the ambitions of the Fair's creators - for environmental awareness, American pride, economic stability - made for a perfect foil.
Not my usual style of book, but very well done. Glad it's over. Might have nightmares... But definitely worth picking up.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Literary Travels
Recently, I was fortunate enough to find myself at a new place of employment. I'm thrilled - I am now working as the fundraising and development person for a (very) small, local charity whose mission is to preserve the culture and history of the county in which I live. I will be spending my days cultivating donors, assisting with event planning, and sustaining relationships with the board and corporate donors. Many of you know I live in Salem, Massachusetts - home of the Salem Witch Trials in 1692. I didn't grow up here, but was drawn to the city because of its incredible history and its attitude about using that history to prevent such a horrific event from happening again. As I've spent more time here, I have also grown to know that Salem has a great maritime history. Museums all over town, and even our city logo portray this, and it's a great way to help the city become better known for something positive.
If you've been reading my few posts in the last year, you may know I bought a new house, had a baby, and got a new job. I haven't had much time for blogging! Now that things are settling down and no giant life changes are knowingly in my immediate future, I'm introducing a new blog segment. We will be traveling around New England visiting the homes & graves of some of the famous authors in the area. My hope is to involve my family a bit in my literary adventures. My plan is to chose a New England author, read his or her book(s) - hopefully it's on my fantasy list! - visit the grave or homesite to take some pictures, then blog about the experience.
To get started, I picked up Carved in Stone at my local book store, Wicked Good Books. I've always had a curiosity about gravesyards and the people buried there. I'm excited to include my sweet baby and my love in this reading adventure, and I hope to post more frequently.
*These images are not mine and I claim no ownership or rights to them. I googled and found two awesome shots of two incredible graveyards in Salem. The B&W is an image of Broad Street Cemetary - which was in the backyard of the first apartment I had in Salem. The second is Old Burial Point, which is where Nathaniel Hawthorne's infamous Grandfather Judge is buried.