How to use this Page

1. Blogging is at its core about connecting with people, and I think the same is true of novels.
2. There's a certain amount of bravery in putting yourself and your opinions out there. It's a risky thing to be vulnerable on the internet. 
3. People in the 'real world' making reference to things you put on your blog is something you have to be prepared for (it's utterly bizarre). 
4. Know what you want to achieve, and what you will regard as success: If you want to earn money from your blog, you're going to set out in a different way entirely to wanting to have a hobby that you spend a couple of hours a week on. Maybe you need a disciplined schedule to reach your goal of monetising, or maybe it's pure fun for you. 
5. The keys to a well-read blog: regular posts that are entertaining and/or interesting, and ensuring that the people who'd want to read your blog know that you're writing it.
6. Don't obsess over statistics – focus on genuinely connecting with people. (The same applies to being an author: Don't obsess over book sales. You will always be disappointed.) What's amazing about blogging and the internet and books and all other things is human connection, is making friends, is touching affecting the lives of others. One hundred thousand anonymous hits only counts for more than a hundred genuine connections if your focus is on monetising your blog. 
7. Aim to connect: An amazing and wonderful thing about the internet is the way in which we can communicate with people all across the world. The best way to build a readership for a blog and the way in which you're going to get the most out of blogging is by being social. 
8. Blogs written explicitly as a self-promotional activity (as some author blogs can be) or to earn money are not going to be especially engaging. 
9. Goodreads is a really great platform for book reviewers and Twitter and Facebook are terrific for 'networking' (a.k.a. Procrastinating) but it's only worth using social media platforms to promote your blog or to interact with people if you enjoy using those platforms.
10. Know your niche: You're going to find an audience and a community with people who write about the things you write about – in my case, that was YA book blogging. There's an even bigger community now of Australia YA book bloggers and that's awesome. 
11. Balance self-promotion with supporting others – that community is your life force. It's not enjoyable to read things that are blatantly self-involved all the time; you also want to celebrate others, and share things that are interesting and entertaining. 
12. Keep your uniqueness. Don't feel as if you have to conform to what everyone else in your genre of blogging is doing. You should have fun.
13. Deciding before you start blogging what you will blog (i.e. YA book reviews, interviews, writing updates) and writing about that consistently means readers know what to expect of you. If you want to branch out and it's very drastically different you might want to start a separate blog if you've already built up a readership.
14. Know what you want to share: I think there's a desire for self-revelation in all of us, and this is a time in which we have plenty of chances to overshare. I think setting limitations on what you will and won't share is always a good idea, so you're less likely to publish something you might regret. (Nothing is ever really deleted.) 
15. I think a certain amount of self-revelation helps you to connect with people reading your blog, so that they can relate to you. There are a lot of people I originally knew online who are now physical-realm friends and in some ways you're more able to be yourself online without self-consciousness. 
16. Things I like to think about before I share something: Would I be comfortable with my nan reading this? (She probably will, anyway.) Would I be comfortable with strangers reading this? (They will. Who knows how many.) How will this affect how people view me?
17. You won't always get it exactly right. You might even look silly. And that's okay. Everyone has put something stupid on the internet in their youth.
18. Avoiding burn-out: I think writing novels and blogging are similar in that passion and enthusiasm are only going to take you so far, and it's pretty easy to get overwhelmed and tired of it all. 
19. It's really important to create balance in your life. When I was fifteen blogging was a huge part of my life on a daily basis and I got sick of it when I was sixteen. You don't want to spend too much time in online worlds.
20. If it stops being fun, don't feel obligated to keep blogging. Take a break. Give yourself an opportunity to recall what's enjoyable about blogging (for me, the social aspect) and refocus on putting time into that. 
21. Don't compare yourself to other bloggers. Don't compare yourself to other writers. Don't compare yourself to other people. (Compare yourself to crustaceans! You're a terrible arthropod.) In all seriousness – it doesn't matter what anyone else is doing. You don't have to be them. You have to be you. Focus on what you enjoy.
22. Dealing with negativity: Negative comments are an unfortunate side effect of the internet. Certain subjects are going to attract more than others – if you want to write about feminism, for instance, you're going to have to brace yourself for a lot of mean and stupid comments. 
23. Never react publicly. Don't put anything in writing. If you want to talk about how ridiculous comments are, talk to a friend or family member about it. Make sure they don't respond, either.
24. Try to avoid the comments to begin with – on my blog and Facebook and Twitter I get almost entirely positive comments. When I write something for another website or people write about me, I'm more likely to get negativity. It's just not worth the energy of reading the comments. (The most entertaining negative things written about me on the internet: that I was 'probably taught French proverbs in the womb', that I am 'overrated' - I didn't know I rated at all!, that I don't live in the 'real world' - I was in a fake world all this time!, etc, etc.)
25. Research blog platforms before you commit to one so that it suits your purposes and skill level. Blogger is great for being simple and straightforward. I hear Wordpress is great in terms of customisation.
26. Choose a blog title that you're not going to think is silly in five minutes, or be embarrassed by people saying it in the real world. You want it to indicate something about the nature of your blog and to intrigue people. It's not of huge importance but I think being memorable is key.
27. The most important things in terms of blog design are that your blog is readable, easy to navigate and not visually overwhelming.

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1. Your parents are proper crazy.
2. Your mother especially so. She might coerce you into robbing banks with her, or disappear to Tonga (maybe Fiji). She's fun, though.
3. Your father is a total enabler. And just generally a terrible parent.
4. You are academically intelligent without really having to try but spend little time at school or studying. Interesting, that. It's like, the only parts of your life that really exist involve you somehow developing emotionally or the narrative of your life being progressed. Hmm.
5. Frequently you lose entire months and wake up only on the day of a significant plot point. I mean, life event.
6. You are cripplingly shy, but it's endearing.
7. Your best friend is both better looking than you are and more outgoing. They seek to help you on your path. They frequently show up at your house with fish and/or chips.
8. You live in a suburb that is vaguely near Melbourne or vaguely on the Gold Coast but doesn't have a name, because Steph doesn't want to seem like she's being defamatory towards anywhere in particular.
9. You steal things - either at the behest of your mother (e.g. cars, money from banks) or because you are endearingly mad (e.g. garden gnomes, lobsters from Chinese restaurants).
10. You know a disproportionate number of blonde people, most especially tall blonde people.
11. You know a disproportionate number of dead people, most especially dead people related to you.
12. You are either an only child or the eldest of two. Your younger sibling is slightly odd, but no odder than you are.
13. You are very introspective. You are really sad, a lot. It's a problem. Then you meet someone even sadder than you. Just a lot of sad folk, generally.
14. You are an obsessive romantic but also socially inept, and this is a disaster, at least until you are saved from drowning by a total babe. That's a disaster, too.
15. Conveniently, an attractive person shows up in your life who understands you, but who you communicate poorly with, hiding the fact that you are dying and/or a bank robber.
16. People are pretty nice to you, other than your parents, who misunderstand you terribly.
17. You are always eating something. Chips, yum cha, two-minute noodles. Just a lot of food generally.
18. You have a lot of flashbacks. It's a problem. They often have some sort of symmetry with your current life. Your life has a clear theme.
19. You find yourself in bodies of water a lot. Often during dream sequences. Always going for a swim.
20. You have a pretty name. Maybe your actual surname is Pretty.
21. You are obsessed with untranslatable words, strange ways to die and/or something suitable arty, you poor tortured little soul.
22. If you go out at night you almost always commit a crime. Or if you go out during the day. You're a criminal, but a nice criminal.
23. You never need to worry about money. Probably because you steal a great deal of it.
24. You never get any older than eighteen. I don't know whether that's a problem or not. I wouldn't enjoy that, I don't think.
25. You cannot leave your realm. No country except Australia really exists. If you wander too far from the main setting, details gradually disappear: strangers lack faces, the buildings don't have signs, there is only more of the same where things should change. Eventually you are enveloped in darkness. Don't go that far. It will swallow you whole. Don't think about the fact that you're not real. Don't think at all. Your reality is a very fragile one. Don't pull at the seams. Forget, forget. Be eighteen and melodramatic for the rest of your eternity. You are safe. Unless Steph decides your death would be good for the plot.

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The mentality of our government and seemingly of many people in this country is that what we should aspire to on an individual basis is nothing more than personal wealth: so you can afford to send your kids to an elite private school, and a prestigious university, so you can live in a big house in a nice suburb and dull the discomfiting effects of human existence by the fact that you've got an expensive car and your clothes are brand-name.

We can all be rich, if we just work hard enough, Joe Hockey will have us believe. As if acquiring a tonne of money is somehow equivalent with personal responsibility. As if anyone with little money is to be looked down upon - they're lazy, they're entitled, they think they can get a free ride.

They talk about the tax-payer like the tax-payer is a sociopath. Which, maybe some of them are. Maybe some of them truly believe we can all be rich and drive Audis and send our kids to a school that will teach them their superiority to other people - that they're better than state-school educated kids, and single mothers, and the people fleeing their home country for ours in fear of their lives.

I don't. It is not possible for us all to be rich. It is not much of a thing to aspire to, anyway, especially if all you plan on doing with your wealth is manipulating others to make yourself richer.

I pay my taxes so that people who need a doctor can see a doctor, and so schools can pay teachers properly, and so single mothers and disabled people and other low-income earners can survive, and so we can properly welcome asylum seekers into our country instead of killing them in an offshore facility (which is so disgustingly wrong, I could vomit). I am not in favour of taking money away from these people. (I am in favour of taking money away from bureaucracy, which is the hugest and most ridiculous money-suck ever invented. I am in favour of taking money away from extraordinarily exploitative big business and mining.)*

I would so much rather live in a country that looks after its countrymen (and women and other gendered people) than one of revolting individualism that values nothing more than kicking other people down in aid of your own journey to high-status. Because that would be a terrible country to live in.**

* Which is not to mention the across-the-board attitude of derision by Tony and co towards the environment, science, the arts and any degree of egalitarianism in this country.

** (Which is not to disparage all people who are wealthy or private-school educated - because I know lots of lovely, down-to-earth, generous people who are either or both.)

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I am so stupidly fortunate it confounds me. The pure luck of being born into a lovely family in a lovely area of a lovely country during peaceful times, with all my fingers and toes and not part of any oppressed minorities (and being female in a place/time that is one of the safest) and being academically smart and symmetrically-faced and able to make a liveable wage doing something I enjoy - it's pretty goddamn splendid. Of course, I undergo a great deal of emotional turmoil because 90% of people have all these horrors in their lives (like hunger and homelessness and nobody to look after them) and I haven't really done anything to earn me the spot I have in the world. Just because of where and who I was born doesn't mean I matter more than anybody else. Everybody deserves basic respect and freedom. Which is to say: I really hate (strongly dislike) the system of selfishness and greed that fuels capitalism, Australia and our government. We were built on immigration. We have an ageing population and need immigrants. Why on earth it's okay for us to accept New Zealanders and Brits en masse but not people from countries where they are actively in danger is utterly beyond me. The amount of cruelty that goes on in the name of protecting us from some great brown terrorist threat is unfathomable. I mean, we lie in our national anthem. For those who come across the sea, we've boundless plains that we're not going to share. By debasing and dehumanising people in an isolated prison (people who have a right to seek asylum; hence 'asylum seekers'. We all know this 'boat people' thing is sensationalist rubbish designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator, who are well-trained to feel threatened by people who don't look like them), you're more likely to create something terrible than by putting all that money and effort and time into helping people assimilate into our society. Isn't this just common sense? I don't know, I don't know. I find all of life terribly confusing. Doesn't this seem terribly basic? Why are so many people I know so disinterested? People pay more attention to acquiring as much random crap as possible. Nothing matters as long as you have what you want. Sometimes I think I have a part of my brain missing and that's why the programming didn't take. I'm still waiting for my people to show up and take me back to the home planet. I don't cope well with this world. Irrespective, I am powerless and full of contradiction. I still like pretty things and still desire money and still watch TV. People thinking well of me still occupies a lot of my thoughts. I am not brave enough to do anything significant, or broadcast these thoughts anywhere other than where hardly anyone will care to read them (I should be writing you things about what I've been reading, what I've been writing - that's what you're interested in, the nice fiction stuff). I don't know whether I am a good or kind person or whether I only think that of myself. What you do counts for more than what you think, but I'm 99% thought, 1% action. If someone could come over and write my novel for me while I have a nap that would be great.

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When I was twelve, I ran for primary school captain.

I have been telling this story to students a whole bunch during this past Book Week. This is because if I were a fictional character in a novel, this is the story I would lead with to establish my character. Someone who was a pretty intense kid, and incredibly enthusiastic, but also willing to make an idiot of herself. And, you know, I think it's kind of a funny story. Not many of the interesting stories I have to tell involve me directly. Perils of being well-behaved.

There were sixteen people in my grade six class. I don't think everyone ran for school captain. I can't remember it that clearly. I have possibly changed details over the previous seven years to make myself more awesome. I am prone to doing that.

My classmates gave speeches I can barely remember - standard 'let's abolish homework!' and 'free icypoles every day!' fare. One of my friends read out a poem that her dad wrote about her. They all sort of blur together, to be honest. I highly doubt any of these people read my blog, but if they do, don't be offended. I do hope you were not planning on going into politics, though.

And then there was me.

The evening before I stayed up terribly late (maybe ten o'clock. Obscenely late by twelve-year-old Steph standards) madly working on my speech. I attempted to burn Waltzing Matilda to a CD, but it formatted wrong, so I ended up playing the Australian anthem through the school's crappy CD player while I spoke. I (and by I, you know I mean my mum) purchased a large number of small, plastic Australian flags from the two-dollar-shop, and distributed them throughout the crowd pre-speech (disappointingly, no-one really waved their flags with the enthusiasm I would have liked).

I painted my face blue to represent that I was a 'true blue' Aussie. There were remnants of blue on my face for three days. That's dedication.

And I stood at that lectern, and I gave my brilliant speech in the multi-purpose room to the entire school, which was lucky to be a hundred kids, plus parents and teachers. There is something, today, that I find utterly hilarious about the phrase 'multi-purpose room'. Like, why does it need to be specified that the room has multiple purposes? Don't most rooms have multiple purposes? Who thought to call it that? Why not just 'school hall'?

My speech was impassioned. I spoke about the great Australian tradition of supporting the underdog. I likened myself to The Little Engine That Could. I spoke about how, from little things, big things grow, referencing that classic Paul Kelly protest song. I was going to make big changes in the school. I was going to make big changes to the country.

It was powerful. It was beautiful. I remember the parents clapping. I am sure the parents were impressed.

I was not elected school captain.

My friend who read out the poem her dad wrote about her was elected, and so was the kid who planned to abolish homework. I can't remember the speeches the vice captains made. My sister voted for my friend Georgia. She was six at the time, so it's understandable (still, the betrayal stung. I have not spoken to my sister since*). I didn't even vote for myself. I didn't want to be arrogant, even though I knew I would be the greatest school captain ever.

The school captains didn't really get to do much. It was primary school. They got a pin. I got a pin, too, for Yellow House Captain, but I only got that role because everybody got to be the captain of something. It's like pass-the-parcel. Sure, everybody gets a prize. But nobody wants a rubbish prize. You want the good prize, in the heart of the parcel. The one the birthday kid gets because the whole set-up is rigged.

Which is not to imply that the primary school captain set-up was rigged (though I am almost 70% certain it was).

At the time, of course, I was disappointed. I thought I learnt a whole bunch of things from that experience - that everything is rigged, that life is a never-ending popularity contest you will always lose, that you never really get the things you want, so why bother to try?

Seven years later, I realise I was wrong. What that experience taught me was this:

1. My twelve-year-old self was astoundingly awesome, and whenever I am feeling bad about myself I just remember how great I once was, and channel that excellent kid I used to be. I was not a cool kid in primary school, or as a teenager, and I'm not as an adult, and it doesn't matter - I have a great deal more fun when I don't try to conform. Your personal awesomeness is not something anyone can take from you. Gosh, I should be a motivational speaker. Nonstop insightfulness, that's me.

2. Failures make for much better stories. I mean, really, being primary school captain wouldn't have worked with my character arc.


*Obviously I am kidding about this. We live together. I speak to her a billion times a day, mainly to lament the fact that I was never elected primary school captain and was denied my one opportunity for greatness.**
**I'm kidding about this, too.***
***This whole thing is pretty silly, really.

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Another author: "So I read your book."
Me: "You did?"
Another author: "Yeah."
*silence*
*silence for three minutes*
Me: "So... are you working on something new?"

2.
Me: "I... write books. For teenagers."
Hairdresser: "Is the money good?"
Me: "It varies."
Hairdresser: "And who does your website design?"
Me: "I do."
Hairdresser: "See, there's this guy who just does Facebook pages. He just runs Facebook pages for people. That's where it's at. That's where people get all their business from. Not their websites. Facebook. Fifty dollars a week, he charges."
Me: "Right."
Hairdresser: "Do you think they're going to start charging people to use Facebook? Because I saw that they were going to do that."
Me: "It's a con. They won't."
Hairdresser: "You know, you really have to get to the teenagers early on. I read a really good book recently about how women and men can't relate to each other."
Me: "...Right."
Hairdresser: "You know it's like we just can't get through to our sons? See, women talk. Women just talk a lot. Whereas men, they can just look. And boys get the message. The woman in the book, see, was at a restaurant, and she saw this man with his sons, and usually the mother would be like, yelling "Come over here" but the father just gave them a look, and they knew their boundaries."

3.
Me: "That's my new book."
Man: "How many copies have you sold?"
Me: "Less than Twilight."

4.
Kid: "What famous authors do you know?"
Me: "Well, I've met Morris Gleitzman."
Kid: *blank*
Me: "And Melina Marchetta, and John Marsden."
Kid: "Have you met... Stephenie Meyer?"
Me: "No."
Kid: "J.K. Rowling?"
Me: "No."
Kid: "What about... what about..."
Me: "I've met Andy Griffiths."
Kid: "WOW. What other famous authors do you know?"
Me: "...that's about it."
Kid: "Oh."

5.
(prior to my new novel being published as All This Could End, the working title was This All Could End. Big difference, clearly.)
Lady: "What's it called?"
Me: "This All Could End."
Lady: "This Awkward End? That's... interesting."

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I think about Life Experience (with capitals, yes) more than I probably should. This is the trouble with being a writer. You're always thinking about stuff, rather than actually doing anything.

It worries me that young people (young writers specifically because young writers are my people) are consistently being told that their opinions are invalid, or, in the case of young writers, that they cannot write, and that their stories are not of value because of their youth. That they need Life Experience. And this assumes a great deal about young people, and doesn't take into consideration the extraordinary diversity of human experiences. I think as a rule people assume to much about other people's lives. Who is to say young people don't have valuable stories to tell and opinions to share?

I think young people having respect for adults and knowing that they still have a lot to learn is incredibly, incredibly important, but I don't think learning from your elders and being able to share your own opinions are mutually exclusive. I think we build a more respectful society on the whole if respect goes both ways. I think we should be encouraging young people to think critically, and to express themselves creatively.

I'm not entirely sure why this discouragement is so prevalent - I think people have this concept that if teenagers aren't constantly reminded that they are young and stupid, we'll all grow up arrogant and self-obsessed. Humans are arrogant and self-obsessed as a species, and all we can do is our best on an individual level. I think every generation of teenagers gets a reputation as the worst generation yet, and we don't need to all get so panicked about it. Putting teenagers down all the time only really makes them feel misunderstood. There is no point to discouraging creativity and imagination.

You are alive, as you read this. (I assume. Good on you, if you're a ghost who's managing to operate a computer.) You are experiencing things. Life does not automatically start randomly at the age of 18, or 30, or 65. People who are older and have had fascinating and varied experiences are not by default brilliant writers (though they would certainly have a lot of material if they chose to take it up). People can be young and have had fascinating and varied experiences already. Even if you haven't had fascinating and varied experiences, you can still write. You still have imagination. You still have a capacity for empathy. You can still learn about the world.

If you're going to write for young adults, being a young adult is an advantage. You're experiencing the things you want to write about right now. Isn't that brilliant? You know how teenagers speak and feel and think, and what concerns them. You don't have to creepily lurk outside schools and eavesdrop on conversations (I sincerely hope no actual adult YA writers do this).

If you want to write for adults, or you want to write non-fiction, why not try that? One of the many wonderful things about writing, particularly of the creative and fictional variety, is that it relies on you empathising with other people. You don't have to be old to do that. Probably children are better at empathy than anyone.

I think you can be young and write and share your opinions and be open to growth and learning. Know that your opinions may change, and that you will mature as a writer and a human. But there is no arbitrary shift between teenager and adult, I don't think. There is no point at which the Life Experience bar is entirely full and a little bell goes off and announces 'you are ready to write!' If you want to write, start now. If you deliberately set out in life in search of Experience so you can write, I don't think you will find it. The more you live, the more material you will have to write about, the more your ideas and concepts of the world, other people and yourself will form. But you don't have to wait to start writing. You will always be learning and growing and changing throughout your life (I should hope. Ask me again in fifty years). You can write and live your life at the same time, honest.

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About a year and a half ago I moved from the Dandenongs outside of Melbourne (where I had lived for approximately half of my life at that point; previously I had lived in Melbourne's bayside suburbs) to the Gold Coast, Queensland. This has to do with books in that my new novel is set on the Gold Coast (vaguely, with fictional areas, because it is a heightened reality), and features an armed robbery. Something which, if you are to believe the news, is apparently a constant occurrence on the Gold Coast. I think if you consult actual statistics, you'll find this is not the case.

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I wonder whether television and stories and movies are actually good for us, or whether humans have trouble differentiating between the real and the unreal on some deep level and as a result we are all unhealthily infatuated with people who do not exist.

I wonder whether any great books actually exist or we are all just fooling ourselves that certain works are particularly profound because the idea of there not being greatness to aspire to or some meaning inherent in some particular words is just really depressing.

I wonder whether everyone walks around all the time feeling like an alien, but pretending like they fit in fine. I wonder whether someone might have done a psychological study on this. I wonder whether anyone thinks about asking 1000 people 'Do you walk around all the time feeling like an alien?' for the sake of science. I wonder if we are a nation of 20 million weirdos but no one will admit it.

I wonder whether, had I been able to choose before being born, I would choose to be a human. I know if I were a human I would choose to be me, because my life is comfortable and easy but I am not so rich I feel guilty all the time, but I think I may have chosen to be a preying mantis or a salmon or a germ instead.

I wonder whether I believe what I believe because I think I should believe it, and do what I do because I think I should do it, and whether any aspect of me is anything other than a product of everything around me and everything that has happened to me. I have possibly read too much Chuck Palahniuk.

I wonder whether achieving great things and being remembered is really important at all, whether maybe the important bit is just being a kind person day-to-day. What's the point in being remembered and admired once you're dead? You won't really be there to enjoy the adoration.

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Friday night

Saturday morning

I would like some snowshoes for days like this.

The back yard this morning. The aliens have landed, and they have sprinkled fairy dust everywhere!

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Matt and I will be moving into our new place soon. But before it is inhabitable by humans, an almost-complete interior renovation is needed.

We've been in the midst of this for over a month now. I've never been involved in anything like this. While I knew it would be a new experience and was prepared for that aspect, there's no way I could have fully prepared for the total emo-clash I've got going on. The large project that has turned into a huge one.


Right now, it's all rubble, broken bricks and raw ceiling beams. But things are finally coming together bit by bit, and slowly we are able to envision what is to come.



For instance, when we started, the second floor ceilings were just over 6 head-grazing feet high. Now, they will be 9 feet high! The added height will make all the difference in the world in such a cozy little space.

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Yes, a dear friend of mine is with (second) child, and another friend and I are co-planning and co-hosting the shower! (See my post here from Steph's first baby shower.

We are having the shower at a local restaurant which is beautiful and very whimsical in design. They host a lot of bridal showers, wedding showers, graduation parties and events of that nature. In fact, my preggy friend & her husband actually had their wedding at this restaurant, when it was at its former location (the restaurant moved a few years ago). Anyhow, it is sure to be a wonderful event, and I am looking forward to it! I hope you enjoy the invite I created for it (above). Monkeys... they are great for ALL occasions, wouldn't you agree?

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Audio CD

Kathy Griffin - For Your Consideration - You either love her or you hate her. I hope I'm not alienating anyone, but, caution to the wind! Love her. She kills me. And as much as I loved her mentor, 80's era Joan Rivers, contemporary Kathy's funnier. I hear a torch being passed!







Cards

Cartolina Cards
There is a bazillion independent card companies out there in the market, and it's a joy to experience each one's own individual aesthetic, but, let's face it, there are so many because there are a lot of very different aethetics (and a lot of different ones that are marketable). This company's cards really turned my head with the unique color, collage and font combinations. Wow, I love them. You know when you see something and it really expresses your own aesthetic but in a much different way than you would express it yourself, if you were to make the art and design your own card? Many of the cards in this line do that for me. I'm going to buy some of these to use myself... and, well, truth be told, I'm kind of a card snob. Full disclosure. (I think most designers are by default though. So don't throw tomatoes at me... or, er, shredded paper... in keeping with the theme... )


Book

"The Trial of Colonel Sweeto and other stories"
by Nicolas Gurewitch

Let's just be honest here. I'm not a huge comics person. I've dabbled over the years - -Archie and Richie Rich in my youth, Palookaville, Love and Rockets and someothers in my early 20's. That's pretty much it. But, being married to a veritable lifetime comic book aficionado, I'm hyper-aware of the market by default (if only because, every time I come home, there's new comic books sprawled out on the coffee table. That said, it is nice to have a mate who truly appreciates art in modern culture. :))

Well, today, he picked up this little gem of a country-fried freak show. Instead of coming up with an in-a-nutshell remark myself, the following quote sizes things up pretty good:

(From the back of the book...)

"If Rod Serling had a sense of humor and an illustration degree, this would be his comic strip"

- Tom Brazelton, Theater Hopper

Each strip in the book is only three or four panels long. In this age of the graphic NOVEL (and short attention spans) that's pretty refreshing. Also of note is that the artist/author uses several distinctly different art styles in the work. Sort of perplexing at first, but it's actually very appropriate given the nature of the strip. Very funny. Check it out!

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I was tagged for this meme last week from Roz (thanks Roz, it was fun to do!) Took me awhile to post it but here she is for your reading pleasure...

7:45 - 7:50 am - My husband Matt usually wakes me up. He's already fed the dogs and let me sleep. (Thanks, Matt. :))

8:30 - I'm out the door to my day job (Sr. Graphic Designer and Illustrator, Sales and Marketing, Boston.com) after showering, hello hugs to the dogs, and making my morning beverage-to-go -- a 32 oz. Nalgene container of homemade starbucks tazo iced green tea latte. (I purchase the starbucks exclusive tazo matcha powder in bulk from ebay. I am addicted - but there are way worse habits one could have - so I treat myself!) I check my e's on my iphone as I'm walking to the T. I can reply to anything pressing once I get there.

9:20 - get to work. check work e's to see what's up for the day.
I design mostly web (and a bit of print) sales and marketing materials for an online media portal, boston.com. We have our own products we promote (that's the marketing part), plus we also take care of any online advertising sales creative that our advertising clients need (that's the sales part). I keep a 'work' work blog here.

12:00 - lunch time. I use this time to do research on whatever I need to research for my illustration / home business or do any online shopping I need to do (...and, of course, to eat lunch).

1 - 2:30 - sometimes, I'll have a meeting at the Globe. If we are promoting a new product then we (the design dept. at Boston.com) will be involved in the campaign's online counterpart. That would be where I come in!

5:30 - leave work, grab the T home. Sketch on the T, or read. If I'm going to read on the T, I usually try to make the reading "work" for me (SCBWI newsletter, Horn Book, a greeting card catalogue, the Dick Blick catalog, haha, etc.). I really try to optimize this time and make it useful.

6:15 - get to Harvard Square T stop (5 minutes from home). Call Matt, discuss dinner (I'll often pick up take-out for both of us). Also, this is a good time to go to the drugstore / card shop / etc., if I need anything. Band-aids, prescriptions, etc.)

6:45 - 8:00 - Get home. Hi's/hugs/cuddles to dogs, walk the dogs, feed the dogs if Matt hasn't already (he usually has already fed them). I'll typically work out for 45 to an hour, 3 nights during the week. (I don't go to a gym though -- I have a workout room at home). If I'm in the middle of a time-sensitive or otherwise intense project, I skip the workout and go straight to work/dinner/work some more.

8 - 8:30 - eat dinner with Matt and the girls.


8:30 to 11:30/12:30 am. Work on illustration or other projects related to illustration / art business. Whatever I have going on at the time. Could be an illustration project, work on my dummy, updating my web site, pet portraits, or any number of other things. (There is always something.)
If my schedule is loose, a couple of nights a week during this time, I'll also watch TV for an hour with Matt and the doggies.

12:30 - 1:30/2 am - goodnight to the doggies and put them to bed (Matt is on couch with doggies, waiting for me to be ready to go to bed - he is usually sleeping away by this point). Go to bed. Once there, I unwind with whatever recorded TV shows I'm currently keeping up with (Work Out, Top Chef, etc.). I usually bring my sketch pad to bed (and sometimes even use it a little)! I'll also jot stuff down for tomorrow's to do list. (I always seem to remember important things or come up with cool ideas, once I'm in bed.)

Then, it's time to sleep. Finally!!!

(Too much information?? Oh. You're snoring there, aren't you... Guess not. ;) )

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This worked out so well last time, I thought I'd go for it again. Today, it's just about a couple of things that might, by some people, be considered mundane. Boring. Maybe even banal. Like for instance, doing the dishes. But doing the dishes is not on the list. (I don't really mind doing the dishes, though...)


Making Dinner
Making dinner is an awesome treat for me. It's creative, and it's really good meditative time, too. You can't let your mind travel too far or let yourself lose your focus when you are working with a sharp knife. So, it's kind of mental ballet, too! (...but ballet with food!)
We typically get take out several times a week because I work at night most nights, and don't have the time to devote to making meals every night. (Matt cooks dinners too, but I do it a little more often, and I think it is because my take-out tolerance for so-many-nights-in-a-row seems to be lower than his.)
I have been trying to cook meals two nights during the week because I really enjoy cooking, eating food I made, and of course sharing the meals I make! It's really fun times, cooking.
For a long time, I was simply too busy to cook at all (or to do much of anything else, for that matter.) And I really missed it. I now make much more of an effort to make the time to do it (...and to do those other things, too). It's really important to do that kind of stuff - - the everyday stuff that is sometimes considered mundane, but that you really like to do -- and, when you don't have time to do it, you find that you really do miss it.

Adventure-contest Reality TV shows
(Is this one TMI? You can be honest with me.)
I am a total, TOTAL Survivor-head, and have been from Season One. (Passe? P'shaw!!) I have every season available on DVD, and yes, I actually WATCH them (they make for great treadmill viewing). It took the entire first season of the The Amazing Race for it to sink in to the recesses of my brain, but I have been hooked ever since. Fear Factor (RIP)? Check! (Heck, I planned my Monday nights around that gross-out hour!)

Okay, now I know that TV can be somewhat, hmm, how shall I put this... unpopular. Okay, okay! No more nicey-nice -- to some folks, TV is downright depraved! To this I say - you are completely entitled to feel that way. And I totally respect your decision.

Now hand me the remote, and take the phone off the hook. Survivor's on!!

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The 'new thing' in yogurt is (NEWSFLASH! You are *not* going to believe this, but...) it is a digestive aid. Yogurt companies are making a very big deal out of this these days. Like it's new news. If nothing else, I find it entertaining (except for the shameful overpackaging of most of these).

The packages look a lot like they are prescription food, they have funny names (Activia - that could be a car! ...or a line of fitness wear), and then they wrap everything to look like vitamins! The cute little (overpackaged...grumble) bottles for their yogurt look like big vitamins (or like little vitamin bottles, depending on your point of view.) Like a shot of wheatgrass, a B-12 shot: Your daily shot of friendly bacteria... I guess.

Oh well. I love yogurt (but I'll stick with my old stand-by's, thankyouverymuch. )

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I just saw the film "Into The Wild". It's a story based in truth about a young man who, pretty much scarred by his parents and the ideals that they were forcing on him, literally drops out of society after graduating from college. He went whole hog, too -- burned all of his identification, and gave all of his savings to charity. Stunning. It was a very scary story to watch. He was constantly in situations that were extremely dangerous. He burned all of his money. He abandoned his car. (He also made some wonderful friends, too.) He was extremist, hardcore. This guy chose to live a lifestyle that I found personally terrifying, but, it was the way that he wanted to live, and that's something you just can't argue with. It was haunting, disturbing, and ultimately devastating. In the end though, a very rewarding movie to watch. I'm glad it was made. Did you see it?

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On Saturday February 9th, my friend Jen and I met in Salem, MA to shop around at the town's "Salem's So Sweet" promotional day (running for a week)! See photos here.

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Dear John, Stop calling. I’m tired of getting messages on my answering machine reminding me that today’s the primary and to get out and vote for you. It’s over between us, Mr. McCain. It has been for a long time. In fact, I take that back. It never really even started for us, which only makes your continual calling all the more pathetic. Okay, there was that brief flirtation years ago. But c’

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There’s good timing, there’s bad timing, and then there’s annoying timing. The first two are well understood. The last might best be explained by this situation. The family and I were in Virginia Beach to visit my mom, brother, and niece. It had to be a quick trip, driving down on Saturday morning at leaving at dinnertime on Sunday because we had to be back Monday morning. All well and good.

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When I heard that John Edwards was dropping out of the Democratic primaries, I felt a little bad. I love Obama, but I like Edwards, and I’m sorry to lose his voice in this part of the process. But Clinton and Obama are certainly sucking all the oxygen to feed their brightly burning stars, and let’s face it, Edwards can’t debate hooked up to an oxygen tank. When I heard that Giuliani was

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Harry the Dirty Dog
by Gene Zion, ill. by Margaret Bloy Graham


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Inch by Inch
by Leo Lionni


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Ish
by Peter H. Reynolds

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