“Do not be afraid, we are merely children.”

It being 2011, only a few people recognized Sophie’s costume. Others asked her if she was an Amish girl, a pilgrim girl, or a nun. Only one person got it immediately–a German woman who saw her in school on Dress Up Day and said, “Mein Gosh! Whednesday Addams!” And then, to Debby’s delight, launched into a series of Addam’s Family quotes.

I like to run along to recorded books–typically the kind of book I know I’ll never get round to reading and in a genre that I know will entertain and engage me, and that are good read-out-louders: usually spy or crime thrillers (the former have mostly been E. European or Scandinavian and the latter tend to be literate tales of washed out tough guys set in places like Florida), and sometimes fantasy (and sometimes a reading of a book I’ve already read).

I read most fantasy novels fairly quickly–even if they are loaded for bear most of the details are superfluous. Unless they’re really unique or thoughtful or uniquely thoughtful and, unless you still assess life risks and opportunities in terms of 20 sided dice, most fantasy doesn’t fall into those buckets. Earlier this year I picked up Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss from the library–his first bazillion seller in the series was really long and kind of windy but still a good story, and despite the length easy to breeze through (enough with the Rothfuss wind jokes). Same with the second, even though it felt like it had the same amount of editing as the latter Harry Potter novels. So I put the recorded version in my request queue, thinking it’d be nice entertainment and include some useful ideas about what sells books in bulk, plotwise. It showed up yesterday in a lunchbox-sized container of 36 CD’s.

When I borrow a book on CD from the library, I always burn it to my laptop, converting it to MP3 format that I can play on my itty bitty Sansa Clip (who I call Clippy, except when it, like the infamous ring, randomly unclips from my waistband and falls into the trailside bushes (I run in Forest Park when possible), always right at a good bit. I’m left there scrounging through the ferns dripping in sweat with earbud wires dangling like some sort of black saliva from my chin (sorry about the image–I couldn’t think of a less queasy or more original metaphor for useless dangling from the region of my head–take your best shot). And I’ll probably rip Wise Man’s Fear, too, all 36 discs, while I’m doing other work. But I have to wonder at the amount of audible data they decided was necessary to tell this story. Most big books require, at most, 20 discs or less. With Wise Man’s Fear, I’m concerned that they’ve swelled the story with Orwellian pauses that’ll cause me to trip over roots and follow Clippy into the brush (yes, I do believe in quantum collusion). Or that the reader will attempt to mimic some imaginary old style of speaking and elongate all the vowels (flourishing the i so it becomes eeee, and so on) and cause me to throw Clippy into the brush.

I tried simple comparative analysis, Just To See (a perfectly valid reason, perhaps the best, for research). The closest relative–marketing-wise, at least–is the George R.R. Martin series* (now bringing to the home screen, if the ads are correct, gorgeous Conan-like scowls, fur cloaks, mighty blades, mighty boobies**, and Loki-like villainy). I looked them up online in the Washington County library catalog and they, too, come in between 30 and 35 discs. Apparently read by the same reader or with the same sort of relish. I think the Rothfuss books are about the same page count, so it’s possible that the Spinal Tap rule was invoked to create an additional disc.

I can either rip them all to MP3*** and get around to listening later, maybe keeping, maybe deleting all 2 GB after 20 minutes like I deleted poor Connie Willis’s Blackout (not a bad book, just a poor reading and many discs worth of ripping), or rip one and listen while I’m working, and at least see if the reader’s competent.

Why would I borrow CD’s when I may be able to find them already as MP3 files in the library system? Because the latter are controlled by an artificial and clumsy checkout system, and the audio files come with built in DRM–they fizzle after 2 to 3 weeks, making it difficult to build a queue. I usually have several books worth of MP3 files queued–listening time doesn’t happen like clockwork–and I always delete them after listening, keeping the spirit of the loan agreement (and not denying anyone else access–copying them allows me to return them sooner).

Why am I windbagging (or windblogging) about this? Because I think there’s also plenty of opportunity in the publishing world to create easily accessible, easily importable audio book experiences–especially through libraries–that are device independent and fit user stories (how people really use and not forced into using audio books) before CD’s go away. A small percentage of authors release their own versions of all or part of their books–some, like Neil Gaimain, are terrific readers. Some authors (if they’ve retained audio rights) allow others to record and publish parts or all of a book–usually in a sort of Open Source readers community. Those results usually come off as well meant (like having dry toast shoved in one’s ears, but with just enough marmalade to show good intent).

Snarky imagery aside, no one should make fun of anyone who provides a free listening experience of a good book, whether its via the author, a community, or a library. It takes a lot of work to create a good reading and listening experience. Even if one is a proficient reader, the experience is full of errors: dry throat, stumbling over text, missteps in rhythm or word choice (our brains often choose words similar to those on the page with that same flexibility that allows us to get what you meant, not what you said).

I’m left with seeing a chink in the wall (simulated by these two outspread fingers) but unable to interpret what’s on the other side. A democratic Berlin? More woods?

* Which I will read or listen to Real Soon Now
** It’s premium cable and a “period piece”–there will be boobies.
*** Listen to the ferocity of syllables in that phrase: “Rip them all to MP3!” Muahahaha!

We took great comfort in hearing how your harvest progresses. Ourselves, we put the ripe maters on the garage floor, on paper or cardboard. We’ll put them in a paper sack or wrap them loose in paper if they aren’t ripe to get the bacterial bath going. They’re slowly but steadily rolling in–the wet weather’s here and we’ve been pulling them as soon as they’re pink, before too many can crack or the slugs can get them. I think, from our “compact” sauce tomato plant that grew to a compact 4′x4′ space (and that was with me hacking it back), we’ll pull in about 25 lbs. We’ll let the Sungold cherry keep popping them out as long as it likes, harvesting as it produces.

We have a hawthorn in the uppermost corner of our tetrahedonish back yard where I also heap leaves that decompose (which don’t include the oak leaves from the grandfather oak next door) and grass clippings (yes, I snip each blade with scissors, because all life is important and deserves to look its best). The hawthorn’s job is to drop dead spiny branches on me or hide trunk spikes just outside my peripheral vision. But it’s the only tree actually in our back yard–all the rest are neighbor trees overhanging our fences, so the wife says it stays. And heaven knows you can never have too many nemeses.

I was surprised to dig out about 8 pounds of yellow finns from our sprawling potato plants last Saturday. In a good year, the 4 plants would have produced much more, but this wonky summer boosted foliage growth for the tomatoes, not leaving much light for 2 of the potatoes (and never giving the eggplant a chance). I need to read up on storing them. I only brushed off the dirt and put them in a paper sack in the garage. I don’t think there’s an issue with a little dirt left on potatoes after harvest, but want to check. We have a dedicated 2′x5′ raised bed in the back yard (a sort of gated community for our potatoes) I hope will be more prolific. I’ll gather those in the next couple of weeks.

It was a good year for beets and peppers, a moderate year for basil (we grew Genovese, globe, and holy), and mediocre for pole beans and carrots. The carrots partially suffered from crowding by mutant marigolds, partially from the cool weather, and partially from poor soil in a raised bed that I think has been infested and is being drained of nutrients from below by neighboring tree roots. Or a subterranean inter-dimensional portal.

Otherwise, Aunt Lou and Uncle Marion send their best. Marion’s gout is receding like the economy and he says he’ll be marathoning in no time while Lou is on pins and needles waiting to hear back on her doctoral candidacy. Luckily, Mom and Dad still aren’t talking to each other. And Wags the pig lives up to his name every time we mention your’s. Look out for the dust devils and don’t let your students fill your head with nonsense.

All the best,

Suburban Country Cousin Kurt

Yes, Three Musketeers with airships, bad dialog, mustache twirling, bosom heaving, and some nifty swordplay layered with slomo violent but bloodless ballets all in a wrapper we couldn’t take our eyes off. Dumas as live action anime. A terrible movie. We had a great time.

Here come the acronyms. Keep your head down and eyes open, and you’ll be okay.

Any more, you can buy a very nice, modern laptop for $500 or less, across brands. In our case, for $490 it’s an Acer with the brand new AMD A8 quad CPU, a 500 GB hard disk (that’s a half terabyte for those excited by nomenclature), 4 GB RAM with an extra 512 MB VRAM, DVD writer, with Windows Home Premium installed. My only complaint is that the display doesn’t have the nice black tones/level of contrast that the Dell had, but Debby is fine with it. The computer is primarily for her use (and secondarily for her two in-home charges Noah and Sophie), so her opinion counts more than most.

We also saw comparable workhorse Lenovo and ASUS systems for between $400 to $500 (with the slightly older hyperthreaded Intel i5 CPUs and nicer displays but no VRAM). I won’t buy another Dell unless I have money to shell out for a physically solid system–the cases and keyboards on the less expensive Dells are flimsy (or “cheapshit” using the term I grew up with ). There are solid models in other brands, but they were either outside our budget or Orwellian with proprietary drivers and utilities.

Ironically, I was the household member unhappy with purchasing new tech. We had to dip temporarily into savings that’s partially our safety net and partially our fund for an oft-delayed trip to Spain. But we set up a payment plan to replace the funds over a three month period with no interest. And Debby relies on the ability to move the computer with her, rather than go to it. So it was the right thing to do because it was possible. Not because it was fun. (I just read that last sentence, looked in the mirror, and asked, Who ARE you?)

The old Dell’s being parted out–the battery and keyboard to Adam for his almost identical laptop, 4 GB RAM to a friend, and the rest sitting on a shelf in case something other than the mother board on Adam’s system fails. We could have set the scavenged case to weather in the front yard, but, you know, the neighbors. And all.

Five days later with the Acer, so far so good. Now, the bad news. I tested out the CPU(s) and video last night with Mass Effect 2 (borrowing my son’s Steam account). Damn. Oh damn. Damn damn. It reminded me again why I limited myself to a netbook and installed Linux instead of Windows. If this game was on my computer and looked and ran this nice, I’d be down from an average of 3 pages a day to 3 paragraphs a day. I closed the lid (in my head, slamming it) and handed it back to Debby, admonishing her to keep it away from me. I know my addictions and depend on others to keep me on the straight ‘n narrow.

So, where do you get YOUR ideas? Well, it all starts with a good mugging.

*As in, “When baking YOUR casserole be sure to add a dozen eggs.”

September, our heroine, is a child of Nebraska in a home broken by WWII–father serves on the European front and mother works days as a machinist. Father is offscreen and referenced only a few times. Love bonds mother and daughter and gets them through the days and nights. But it’s a sad life, so September is easily lured “down the rabbit hole” into a fairyland that’s under new management. (To say more gives away too much.)

Valente gives September the coldness and warmth and quickness of AnyChild and quickly sets her on a hero’s journey. Like Alice, she meets beings that in our world would be seen as dangerous or insane but in Fairyland fit right in and are sympathetic or limited  by their natures (or by Nature). Or stock characters that she reblends in unique ways. (Like Tock in The Phantom Tollbooth.)

There’s blood–a surprising amount, and if I had to grumble it would be about how easily it’s shed without helping us feel the cost–at least during the shedding. Maybe the sudden moments of bloodshed are there to remind us how dark and sometimes visceral this story (and a child’s life) can be, or that it’s minor compared to the other difficulties characters face. A real old fashioned fairy tale but without the eye gouging. Without Valente’s language to light the way, many readers might set it aside. I think it was hard but necessary for her to write those parts–perhaps she composed (or edited) on the side of light exposition to keep the story moving and younger (or more delicate) readers (or listeners) from weeping or turning away before the end. This isn’t Tender Morsels. (I never wrote to ask her and am guessing.) Younger does not always mean delicate. September would not have turned away.

The ending is redemptive with pomegranate seeds as an honest sugar substitute. It fully deserves to never be followed by a sequel. (Although there’s a “prequel” available for free online reading, it won’t make sense without reading the novel first.)

Meant to say more and to say less, but ran out of time. I’ll let it hang on this for now.

I don’t know how a writer like Catherynne Valente achieves the state of grace necessary to write like this, not only echoing Alice and Phantom Tollbooth and old fashioned non-treacly fairy tales that are moral and sly and funny and dark and light at once, but matching my emotional memories of those books. It cracks the door to fairyland in the first sentence. And it’s a beautifully made book, with illustrations that match the tone and the tale. The prose isn’t spare, not remotely–but good lord, if you love language and if nothing else want a master class in how to wield and weave it, read the book (that’s right, it’s a sword and a wrench and a loom). If you have children, you could do worse than read it out loud or, even better, steal bits and weave your own stories for them. It’s worked for me with 6 yo Sophie and 12 yo Noah. And if you see the ending coming–the real ending, on the very last page, which won’t resonate until you read every page that comes before it, you’re the better (and probably sadder) reader.

If you want a plot rehash, hit Amazon or Goodreads or similar sites. Some are insightful and some are just from people who miss being English majors. More than one wrote this mistake: for “9-12 year olds” or “for young adult readers.” Instead of “read this book the first time when you’re about 9, depending on who you are. Maybe younger. But if you stop at that age, you’ll miss all the good stuff.”

Note for people on a budget: Bookstores charge $25 or more for poorly bound books that’ll go spineless and jaundiced in 5 years or less. Fiewel and Friends printing is a beautiful hardback, with a thick slipcover and richly colored original illustration by Ana Juan (not some photoshopped photograph meant to create a “mood”), more sly illustrations by Ana Juan on the first page of each chapter, thick, acid-free vanilla-colored paper, and bright heavy stitching. It’s a book that says “I expect to be kept and read for a long time.” It’s full price is $17. You can get it on Amazon for $11. I usually hunt for the bargain. I paid full price for this one intentionally–it’s only a little bump to the author (I probably increased her royalty from 50 to 60 cents), but it was one way to say thanks.

It’s nice to know my kids want to keep me around. (Cartoon by Travis Kremer, the eldest)

Here’s his post:

The History of Torture — Misses the Point

Here’s my sketchy response:

[Hard to encapsulate a response to such a well summarized damned difficult topic in a comment box rather than over beer and earnest conversation. Forgive the leaping round.]

I can’t think of a period of time in which an enlightened western government didn’t practice torture. Us. Current friends. Former enemies. Paragons of cultural virtue, all.

It’s not just a moral failure, it’s a huge intellectual failure. We’ve been outsmarted or outplayed, by terrorists and by factions in our own government. We try to extract info out of people willing to martyr themselves, their families, and their unwilling culture. Who generally work in isolation. Who are often, it seems, tortured stepladder fashion to learn who their handlers are, and so on.

The torturers also become victims of their own practices, and pass the tradition on to others. They write papers and make policies, all very bloodless.

I also think I see why history.net lumped brutality and torture. Both may require you to see the target as less than human or, at least, less than you, for you to command or perform the act. Look outside the bounds of western torture to the practices of tribal armies in Africa or outside of military and government to gang violence. At some level you have a person or organization in power (or seeking power or retribution) and another suffering, whether they actually are the intended target or a stand-in. We can outlaw torture of any sort by our government and stand tall, and it won’t make a difference wherever the practice is accepted–including in our own country.

As a thought experiment, what if torturing another being also cost the torturer their life–not as legal punishment but personal cost? As part of our biological architecture? Would we continue with rewards for martyrdom? Or would it simply never occur to us to seek it as a solution? (That assumes that other parties could take violent actions that did not cause them to self-expire.)

The filmmakers should have titled it, A History of Torture.

I write at a rate that I would call “writing like hell” for an hour every morning before work (and then in the evening after work) and look at the typed page and say to myself, “Is that all there is?” (You know the rest of the lyrics. Right?)

More later. Back now to reconstructing a bathroom and writing more important things.

* Said machine is a new Lenovo Thinkpad (or Stinkpad) running Windows 7–a sturdy, reasonably fast laptop that is in mysterious wireless conflict with my wheezing wireless router when WPA is enabled. I’ve never had this issue before and don’t have it with the nearly as new netbook (running both Win7 or Linux). It’s a valuable but frustrating lesson when tech fails to work.

Update: The router took me less than an hour to set up that same night, including connecting a printer. The reviewers all love it, but warned that its admin screens are more complex than most routers to configure. Not compared to the admin panel for the router it replaced. And my goodness it’s fast.

Update: The conflict with my older router was related to DNS at my workplace and a Windows 7 update. It’s annoying to step back 10 years and have to update the local hosts table manually, but that’s what it took to fix the problem. Still love the router.

Even the slickest of Linux distros require you to be more aware of how the file system and OS work and how software plugs into that system. For example, my new install of Linux Mint 10 makes it very easy to add from a select set of software that’s been vetted by a Mint team.  But Mint will also run a lot of software built for the comparable Ubuntu core–in my current case, Maverick Meerkat, and that requires a little extra research and work. (I wrote and then deleted a brief and obvious discussion about freewheeling nifty naming conventions for Linux vs. Windows.)

My #1 priority after installing Mint last weekend was to find writing software that was more of a small tacklebox than rolling toolchest. Last night Debby and I and my netbook snuggled down to Dancing with the Stars and, during the breaks and handful of  train wreck dances, I narrowed choices down to FocusWriter. The reviewer and user accolades matched my requirements and the negative criticisms weren’t deal busters. But it wasn’t available via the Mint Software Packages tool (where currently the only writing toolset other than text editors is OpenOffice). I found install packages for Ubuntu but nothing specifically for Mint. I remembered reading that–due to a complex familial relationship–Mint will run some Ubuntu software, Ubuntu being the father of Mint (and its cousin, godfather, and possibly its guild leader and future nemesis). So I googled for the version of Ubuntu that matched the current version of Mint and selected that matching FocusWriter PPA, which Mint said (yes, it spoke to me in articulate dialog box) that it would be happy to download and install.

Five minutes later I was in the mysterious fogbound fullscreen landscape of FocusWriter where mousing to the northern border opened a simple but very functional toolbar, while the southern border laid down minimal tabs for the open file(s), word count, timer, and some simple file-based functionality. (Word count and timer are optional settings–allowing you also to set daily goals for both or either.) FocusWriter also includes options for modifying the background, fonts, and basic styles via simple themes.

I miss the simple visual organizational tools that came with my Windows-based writing tool, PageFour, but I think this is a fair trade with, ultimately, fewer distractions (and PageFour has some annoying bugs around non-sticky styles). The author of FocusWriter has also written a portable version that runs on a USB key, which means I can haul the files and key with me to other systems and work as needed. I’m using Dropbox for redundancy across computers and backing up to an external hard drive, and I’m copying complete chapters to a private section of this blog (which is also backed up). There’s more I could add or tweak, but then I wouldn’t be writing. Next steps are to get back to said writing and, in-between, regain an understanding of Linux basics. Right after I make a donation on gottcode.org, the FocusWriter author’s home page.

Once I’m sure this machine really plays well with Mint, I’ll zap the Windows install and stick with a VM for any Windows needs (WINE, Virtualbox, or some other).

Also, an old cell flip phone that loses signal often enough to remind me not to rely on convenience, a gloomy black digital desk phone that semi-randomly forwards my calls (out of boredom?), an old photo of young Debby in beret and Travis in bunting at the beach when Trav was 6 months (still one of my favorites), two computer monitors, a wireless keyboard that also doubles as a crumb collector, a Dundee marmalade jar that has been my pen container since 1992, a lamp with a long thin neck bent like the swan’s when he tried to look three ways at once, infrared wireless headphones (I can’t have infrared vision, but I can have infrared hearing), a brown ceramic head of a French–really, Gallic–gnome to which I’ve taped a phome rubber beret phormerly attached–as they say–to a phone headset, a rumpled 4×6″ napkin the color of brown rice, and a homemade family photo collage printed on white card stock.

Most importantly, there’s a small charm to ward off the Evil Eye (and certain management)–a flattened shiny round stone with a gravity of 9.6 m s-2 and viscosity of 3-6 • 10¹⁹ Pa·s painted to look like a piercing sky blue eye, with a small hole drilled at the top of the sclera and strung with a short lanyard of matching sky blue: a gift from a friend’s visit to Turkey, along with a long gone box of addictive Turkish delight. My friend, who had no wish to bewitch me, gave me the ward first, then the candy. I also just noticed that my coffee mug, which I can only describe as the orange eye socket of a whale, is decorated with variations of the same charm.

I’ll end our journey across the tableland at the edge of my 2 drawer file in the tangle of a steadfast succulent vine (esculentus stabilis) that is older than at least one of my children. I won’t bore you with the walls, floor, small bookcase with its trail of river rock and sand dollars left by my daughter, or the contents of the file–which would give too much away.

** As in, “Matcha wattah wit me! Matcha wattah wit you?”

The bad news on the Linux front is that this model’s new enough and netbook configurations are unique enough that that no Linux flavor supports all the necessary hardware features yet–so for now I’ll stick with this Windows 7 Starter OS, strip off all the extra crap that came with it (including Office lite and a 60 day subscription to that PITA Norton Internet Security), install OpenOffice.org and PageFour, and put it to work right away–as my primary writing tool.

Overall, I’m very happy with it. Typing is no problem, the screen is bright with high contrast, the sound is terrific for a laptop, and it has these sexy clamshell curves that I can’t stop caressing with my eyes. Those crafty engineers at Samsung. And the battery life’s great–I’ve run it now with full power to the wifi and screen for well over 6 hours. Reducing brightness and wifi power is supposed to give me about 9 hours. And there’s the little popup telling me that it’s time for both of us to recharge.

Specs

The Asus Tripoli* PC 1018P w/ Intel Atom N550 Dual Core CPU, 2 gb RAM, 250 gb hard drive (enhanced hamster, not SSD, which unfortunately is out of budget), two USB 3.0 and one USB 2.0 ports, and a card reader. And a neoprene sleeve for transport.

It comes with Windows 7 “starter.” I plan to wipe the drive and install CrunchBang Linux. My son’s SO has been using C! on her netbook for about a year and has been very happy with it. C! doesn’t have the pretty UI provided with (K)Ubuntu, but it supposedly runs faster and has fewer issues. And fewer distractions. I like Win7, but also like the idea of using an OS that’s currently less subject to attack, has less system overhead, and keeps me focused. I also “grew up” on UNIX and Windows systems, so shifting back and forth is fairly easy.

Writing tools for Linux

I’m buying the Tripoli to use as a very portable, moderately priced writing tool, that can also handle e-mail, browsing, and playing multimedia files. I’m willing to trade screen and keyboard size for portability/weight (which is minus one pound–the anchor comes with it). For home use, I’ll eventually get a larger screen and keyboard.

I will miss my two favorite, distraction-free writing tools for Windows: PageFour and Scrivener. I’ll install OpenOffice to handle compability with MS Office files, but I stopped using Word for personal writing projects waaaay back in ’09. So I’ll be evaluating tools like FocusWriter, PyRoom, q10, KWord, Writer’s Cafe, Celtx, and, for desktop publishing, Scribus. There are also full featured text editors, but I want writing tools that provide a little more lift without much adjustment. If you know what I mean.

I hope to have the netbook in my grubby little hands in three weeks or less. I’m getting the white clamshell, though, so I best wash up first.

Note: I was writing this list of tools as I was looking them up. It turns out that Windows is the starved platform. Kind of like eating the same thing for years out of a well stocked pantry and suddenly noticing a plain but well built little door along the baseboard that, on opening, leads into a gourmet deli.

Update: Several people have asked why I didn’t consider an iPad or wait for an Android tablet. They said that the netbook market is shrinking and will soon vanish, squeezed between cheap repackaged last-gen notebooks and the sexy new, ready to go out of the box, tablets. Err, no. At least, not anytime soon. Those cheap notebooks are still heavy and large, and the tablets are still appliances, not tools, and are more expensive than netbooks. The iPad has lousy wifi connectivity and, without buying an external keyboard, doesn’t cut it as a writing tool. I’ve spent a fair amount of time with tablets and appreciate them for what they are and will be, enough to know they won’t serve my needs anytime soon. I also don’t care if the netbook market dries up. It’ll continue to be a very useful tool until it stops working. I don’t know if Kurt’s world is the real world. But it’s real enough for me.

*Tripoli reads nicer and carries the weight of history while Eee sounds too much like a shriek, and I don’t want no computer that makes me shriek. Anymore.