Pick a Cliche, Any Cliche (SD Book Fest, post 1)

If you've read the title of this post, you probably have some idea of what this is going to be about.

So let's just jump straight in with "You can't judge a book by its cover." That's an oldie but a goodie - especially at a Festival of Books.

First of all, I think that that adage is both true and false. I think that a lot of book covers are definitely wrong for their interiors. I've seen a lot of great covers on crappy books, and a lot of crappy covers on good books. But I've also seen a lot of crappy books with crappy covers, and those are the ones where I find myself thinking that I should have just judged the stupid book by its stupid cover.

At the Book Festival, there are a lot of books to look at. There are also a lot of people around. And, as a result, you make a lot of very fast judgments based on... well... covers.

Here's something that I was reminded of pretty quickly: A lot of authors do much better in writing than in person. But - here's the catch - some of those same authors also do great when they're working from scripts (or reading from their books). It's just when they have to truly interact that some of them falter. It's kind of endearing, really, but can also be rather frustrating when you're in a schmoozing situation.

Or... Let's say that you are meeting an author you've always wanted to meet, and you see her speak and she's dynamic and vibrant and all sorts of exciting, but when you actually chat with her later she's much more withdrawn. It's a strange feeling.

Believe me, though, I've worked in the Arts long enough to understand the differences between public and private personas. I know that probably 80% of people in the Arts (be they authors or actors or singers or painters or whatever) would really rather spend their down time alone. And the other 20% tend to be really out there and "on" at all times (based on his social media presence, I would suspect John Barrowman falls into that latter category, for instance).

What I'm trying to say is that I really enjoyed meeting all the people I met. And I took a number of those meetings with a grain of salt. (And I hereby vow that if I'm ever the one sitting on the other side of that table, I'll do my best to lean more toward the gregarious side - for better or worse.)

Now, how about a little "Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder" versus "Out of Sight is Out of Mind"?

You see, I graduated from college in 1989 - 25 years ago. At the time, I graduated with degrees in English and French. As some of you know, I see one of my French professors a few times every year, and we've kept in touch pretty well. On the other hand, I've really never kept in touch with my English professors. I read about them in the college newsletters, and I tell stories about them (either reminiscing with old friends or just boring Christopher), but even though they've stayed on my mind, I haven't seen them in years.

Well... This weekend I ran into three of my professors from back in the day. I got a fairly solid look of "I have no idea who you are, but keep talking and I'll see if anything clicks" from two of them. The third was incredibly charming and openly admitted that she had no idea who I was, and asked a few questions, to one of which I responded "No, I wasn't in that course track, but my sister took one of your classes, although she was in Engineering Physics..." To which she replied, "OH. Sure. I remember her! Tell her I say hello..."

Bubble. Burst. Ka-blooie. >sigh<

Finally, there was the "Are you sure you're not...?" person I ran into in the middle of the second day. (Yes, I know that's not an old adage, but it is kind of a "meet-n-greet" cliche to have someone come up to you and say that they're sure they know you, because you're supposed to be... Even when they don't, because you're not.)

So, I was walking through the main exhibitors' hall on Saturday, looking at the different small publishers' tables, and authors' displays, and the SD Poetry Society table, and the South Dakota Graduate Women in Science table, and the woman sitting behind a table of books gave me a very familiar "Hi! How is your day going?" Good, thanks. Yours? "It's going okay. How was your session, today? Did it go well?" I'm actually not a presenter. But I've been having a good time. "You're not? I was sure you were... I must have you confused with someone else."

It was fairly uncomfortable. Not gonna lie. But - with my vow to be more gregarious in mind - I replied with Oh. Yes. My presentation. It was great. Everyone loved it. Except there was this one guy in the back who kept coughing. But he eventually quieted down. Not sure if he got up to get a drink or if he just keeled over, but either way the rest of the talk went great. She laughed. I laughed. I moved along to the next table.

What does this mean we've learned about the SD Festival of Books, today? If you want to, you can meet a lot of people - who may or may not be exactly who you expect them to be. You can run into people you've known for years, and you can become fast friends with people you've just met (who also may or may not be exactly who you expect them to be). 

Tune in next time for what it's like to be a Fanboy at a very non-Fanboy kind of event.

Work(s) In Progress

Having spent Friday and Saturday at the SD Festival of Books in Sioux Falls, I feel like I should be writing a whole bunch about the experience.

In fact, in my mind, there is this whole set of blog posts about what I did during the 28 hours that I was at the Festival. You know... Seeing people. Listening to cool talks. Learnin' stuff.

And I will. Over the next few days, I'll go into all of that. I'll get all fanboy geeky about meeting a couple of people, and try to explain an epiphany or two that I had.

Right now, though, I kinda want to just absorb it for a bit longer.

It's weird, you know. I work with books every day. I see manuscripts come in, and I see real books go out. And, yes, I also spend time working with authors. Not as much as working with their books, but it kind of stands to reason that every manuscript has an author (and many have more than one author), so working with one means I'm working with the other.

But being at the book festival, with all kinds of authors - published and unpublished - and all kinds of readers - academic, casual, professional, and even beginning - was really fun. It reminded me of why I like to work with books. And why I (usually - not always, but usually) enjoy working with other people who like to work with books.

So I guess this is your fair warning that I'm going to be blogging about the book festival for a few days. Don't worry. I'll be changing a few names to protect some of the innocent, and I'll keep some stories to myself to protect some egos (mine, included). I suspect that only Christopher will get all the unexpurgated stories. (Whether he wants them or not... Sorry, hon.) The rest of you will just have to deal with my usual level of "being private in public" storytelling. (Or we'll at least have to go out for drinks, first...)

(By the way... if you're reading my blog for the first time, you might want to know that I post ever-other day. So the next installment will be on Tuesday. See you then!)

Friday Food - A Nut Job

Remember how I told you that I had all of those cashews, which is part of why I ended up making the pesto with cashews?

Yeah... so... We're talking Costco-sized container of cashews. So I needed to do more with them. And I opted to go for some spiced nuts from a recipe that showed up in my inbox right in the middle of all of that debating.

Yeah... This is the recipe. 

Not gonna lie, the fact that it took 4 cups of nuts (I used 3 cups of cashews and 1 cup of almonds - all the leftovers from the pesto project) was a big plus for me. I had a fun time setting up the various bowls. I don't think it was just because I was going to be taking a photo of them, but it might have been.

Check out the pretty colors in the sugar/spice mix. Pretty, right?

Ooo... Cool close-up of the sugars and spices on top of the nuts. 

Not quite as cool non-close-up of the nuts. 

Parchment paper on the pan; eggy, spicy nuts on top.

Almost done baking.

There aren't actually any photos of it when it was "done." Basically, it looked just the same, but in a bowl, though, so you've got a pretty good idea.

The taste wasn't as "addictive" as the recipe might imply, but they were definitely tasty. Just the right amount of crunch. A nice amount of spice and sugar that carmelized. 

A put them in an air-tight container and they stayed good for a week or so. I'll definitely try them again, modifying the spices as I go until I find a slightly more addictive - or at least intriguing - blend. 

Wednesday Worknight

I don't really know why it happened, but I seem to have worked my way through this entire evening.

Okay. Not really work worked, but work, nonetheless.

I did some baking, which I admit is usually pretty fun, but I did a larger-than-usual cookie batch, and by the time I was done (after having gotten home and walked and fed the dog), it was already after 7. Luckily, I had been cleaning as I went along, so there weren't any dishes left to do - until I made dinner...

Then I did some actual work work. Freelance work work, to be more precise. I've been doing a lot of smallish pieces for one of my clients this week because they have a HUGE event coming up this weekend. I like them a lot, though, so it's not drudgery, but it is work.

I topped it all off by trying to set up some new personal/freelance business cards using templates on my computer. I've used the same templates before, and I've liked the results. But I just don't like how they're turning out this time. (Sad part: I think the reason why I don't like them any more is that - when I used them the last time - I wasn't trying to include things like online networking profiles, which just don't fit in the templates.) So I started searching for some templates online and found a really generic one. Which I worked on for a bit and forced Christopher to give me thumbs-up or thumbs-down on.

And then it got to be 10 o'clock, and I realized that it has been way too long a day for me to be dealing with this stuff.

Maybe tomorrow night it will seem more like fun, and less like work...

Movie-ish Monday - with Special Guest Shirley Jones

Sorry. No. Shirley Jones isn't going to be writing this blog post. And she's not actually here at the moment. But I did see her last weekend. Oh... But not in a movie. Live. On stage. Which means, of course, that the title of this post is way off. Perhaps I should back up a bit...

I have a friend who goes to concerts with her dad. They apparently go to a bunch of rock concerts - or things of that type - where there is the definite chance that the band won't be doing another tour again. Ever. Due to age-related mortality.

I know. Morbid. But kind of creative and funny, too. And it's a good way to kind of force yourself to go out and see shows that you might never see, if you really think about it.

So, a month or so ago I heard an ad on the radio for "The Music Man in Concert, starring Shirley Jones and Patrick Cassidy." And I fully admit that I almost immediately thought "I wonder if she'd like to go to that."

She did. So we did. We even got "box seats" for us - and her new boyfriend - right in the middle of the theater. (Christopher didn't think it sounded so interesting, so we left him at home.)

I wasn't really sure what to expect of the show. Or, rather, I do know what I expected. I expected her to kind of stand on stage and tell stories about filming the movie and the two of them to do a few songs and maybe a dance or two.

She looked like this in the show. She wasn't wearing the wig and hat from the website photos. But, then, the show is scaled down from what you see on the website, too. 

What we got was... well... a little of that. What we mainly got during the first act was kind of a strange semi-pro staged concert of "The Music Man" with black and white images from the movie projected on a screen (not sure why they were in black and white, since the movie was in color). They did about 80% of the songs, with Shirley Jones playing Mrs. Paroo, Patrick Cassidy playing Harold Hill, and about 10 other people playing all the other roles, along with a small orchestra, and about 10 people at the back of the stage singing the chorus parts.

At the start of intermission, I turned to my friend and said - with absolutely no malice - "It's incredibly mediocre. It's wonderful!"

The second act was much more interesting - for me, at least. There was more of Shirley Jones talking about the show. There was more interaction between Shirley and Patrick. There was a local high school band at the appropriate climactic moment. And, at the end, there was a short Q&A, where we got to see how much people really love them and... ya know... get reminded of why we were there.

It really was wonderful. Shirley looks wonderful. She and Patrick shipoopied well together. She was funny and I would have happily sat and listened to her tell stories for another hour.

Was it the best show I've ever seen? No. Would I go to it again? Definitely.

(Check the website link to see where they'll be performing in the near future. Seriously. Do it. It's totally worth it.)

You Know It's An Odd Day When...

I took my car in to the shop last night to get the tires rotated and balanced. I've been getting some odd road noise, lately, and I figured that should fix it. Since I bought them all at the same shop, they do this for free - along with an alignment. So I was all set for that.

This morning, they called and suggested I add an oil change to the list (I was about due, so I figured why not...), and they offered to (finally) fix one of my brake lights that has been a problem for a while (the bulb isn't the problem, the connection is, which put that out of my wheelhouse).

So I was set to have Christopher drive me over to the shop this morning, run a couple of errands, and then come home. Notice that I expected Christopher to drop me off before the errands - he's not a big fan of them.

But he offered to actually run errands with me, which made for a fun late morning/early afternoon. We finally signed up for a membership at the new food Co-op near us (I'm definitely taking my Mom there the next time my folks are in town), we went to the post office and the bank, and then we split up for a bit to tackle the grocery store (me) and the liquor store and pet food store (Christopher). After a quick lunch, we were finally at the shop to pick up my car.

(This is where the title of the post comes in.)

I walked in with my cup of soda in one hand, and an old "flapper" from my toilet tank in the other. As I went to hand over my credit card, I set them both on the counter. The guy just looked at me, and then at the stuff on the counter.

"Looks like you're having an interesting day."

"Yeah. You know it's going to be an odd day when you walk out of the house with part of your toilet in your hand."

"At least it's something small."

"True. But when you're reaching back there to pull it out of the tank - even though your mind tells you the water is perfectly clear - it's still one of those things..."

The guy at the counter and the guy behind him both laughed, then wished me good luck as I walked out to claim my car.

(For the record, the local Ace hardware had the replacement piece I needed and I had it all swapped out within minutes of getting home. Now we just need to get the chain length sorted out so that it falls correctly and seals the valve every time...)

Feeling Unplugged

I'm working on a book right now that is about child rearing and how to spot if your child is having difficulties, or might be outside the "normal" ranges and in need of therapy. It's a bit one-sided (as you might expect, since the author is only one person - so of course she has her opinion), but some of the info is actually kind of interesting.

What struck me today, though, is that a lot of what she talks about for infants and small children about how they learn and learn to interact is also applicable to adults.

I just finished a section all about how very young children shouldn't be over-exposed to computers/tablets/smart phones because they can become - in essence - addicted to the stimulation. Over time, they stop being interested in the world around them and will only focus on the screens, or other things with instant sensory gratification.

What struck me as odd about that, today, is that on the radio this morning they were talking about some city in China which is (supposedly, at least) creating "tech lanes" on the sidewalks. Basically, these are areas where people who are using their technology can walk, while people who are not using tech can walk in other areas.

I'm not entirely sure whether these lanes are supposed to protect the people with their heads down who are totally oblivious to the world, or if they're supposed to protect the rest of the world from getting run into by those people with their heads down.

I found myself having the same reaction that one of the people on the radio had. He said "Or maybe people could just turn off their phones for long enough to walk outside and actually interact with the world."

As I was leaving work, today, the twenty-something husband of a co-worker was walking to the garage with us. He had dropped his smart phone and the screen had cracked, and he was kind of giving the "that's the way of the world" response. So I held up my flip phone, which I've dropped enough that the back has popped off and the battery has come out, but which still works. His response was "You don't ride the bus. I'd be so bored for 45 minutes without it!"

Whatever happened to people reading books? Or listening to the world instead of having earbuds in all the time? When did small children have to be stimulated and entertained at every waking moment? When did it become impossible to enjoy a quiet bus ride as a time to just calm down and not be connected? Why do I suddenly want to go live in the middle of a no-wireless-service zone?

And who wants to come with me?