Scarlett Letters

I have so many things I want to write about, but I need to acknowledge a cool thing. Today is the official release day of The Kobold Guide to Combat, edited by yours truly. The book examines combat in role-playing games and, to a lesser extent, in fiction. I'm pretty pleased with this project. It features work by a lot of terrific writers whom I respect and admire and just really dig as people. Every one of these writers is a rock star in their own right in their fields and I'm delighted they're in the book. You can get it directly from Kobold Press at the link above in print and PDF, or from your preferred store (Barnes & Noble | Amazon).

It also turns out that our publisher (and contributor) Wolfgang Baur was interviewed for The Tome Show, talking about the book. You can hear that podcast here. Wolf starts talking about 00:50.

And if you're in the Seattle area tomorrow night (Wednesday, 11/5/14), you should drop by University Bookstore. I'll be joined by six of the contributors for a panel discussion and book signing at at 7 PM.



Here's the complete table of contents:

Entering the Fray by Janna Silverstein

THE BIG PICTURE
Why We Fight: Combat as Communication by Jeff Grubb
Tactics for Tyrants by Chris Pramas
Military Systems at War by Steve Winter
The Importance of Tension and Raising the Stakes by Diana Pharaoh Francis
Gaming the Novel by Keith R.A. DeCandido
Speed of Combat by Wolfgang Baur
Scratching the Surface: 10 Things Fiction and Film Get Wrong about Violence by Rory Miller

ENVIRONMENTS
Fighting in a Real Fantasy World by Ed Greenwood
Through the Looking Glass by Colin McComb
Tossing Kegs and Smashing Chairs: How to Stage a Great Barroom Brawl by Steven Robert

ARM YOURSELF
A Note on Anatomy by Richard Pett
Combining Magic and Arms in the Field by Aaron Rosenberg
Taking Aim: The Role of Archery in Gaming by Miranda Horner
Siege Engines and War Machines in Fantasy by Wolfgang Baur
Inspiring Words: A Warlord’s Field Guide to Battle Cries by Mario Podeschi

THE RIGHT CHARACTER FOR THE JOB
Reconnaissance and Scouting by John A. Pitts and Ken Scholes
Combat from the Shadows by Carlos Ovalle
Healing Heroes: Combat Medicine and Magic by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough
Monsters: The Pointy End of Fun by Rob Heinsoo
On Being the Target by Wolfgang Baur

ONE MORE THING
The Illusion of Conflict: Spoiler-Alerts & Combo-Moves by Clinton J. Boomer

PS--I can't think of a better use for my "blood, love and rhetoric" icon than with this post. Truly, it applies here more literally than many other icons I could use.

I recently noted that I ought to be posting about the more pleasant things I've been doing lately, so here's a quick overview of some of my recent passtimes:

Book-It Rep production of "Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus": For those unfamiliar with Book-It Repertory Theater, it's a local company that specializes in book adaptations for the stage. Shortly after I came to Seattle they won my heart with their production of "Jane Eyre" (material about which I am notorious hard to please), and became my favorite local company. Their works never disappoint. If I dislike what I see (which is rare), at least it's always interesting and thought-provoking. If you follow my theater tag below, you'll see reviews of their other productions. Anyway, the production of Frankenstein that I saw last Friday night falls under the "liked it well enough with quibbles" category. The adaptation was very faithful to Mary Shelley's novel, presented as Victor's recollections told to a sea captain who finds him stranded in the Arctic. The play is graphic and was presented with some lovely stage magic to portray severed limbs being reanimated with electricity, as well as the autopsy of a body on stage. All the performances were good ones, especially Connor Toms (whom I saw in Seattle Rep's production of "Red") as Victor, and Frank Lawler (who was my supervisor more than a decade ago at Microsoft/Expedia) as Walton, the sea captain. I disliked the lurid make-up applied to the actor who played the creature; and I really disliked the director's choice to hide a male nude body in full silhouette but to pointedly display a female body fully lit later. That particular choice really angered me because the moments were analogous to each other; the inequity pissed me off, and when I received Book-It's survey asking me about my experience, I made a point to mention it. That said, however, it was a good show--not the best of theirs, but I was satisfied and entertained.

Cosmos: Watched the first episode of Neil deGrasse Tyson's reboot of "Cosmos" and enjoyed it quite a bit. I remember Sagan's portrayal of our cosmic address, and it was fun to see this update. I'm looking forward to more episodes.

Smashed pennies: I don't remember whether or not I mentioned it, but I find myself once again on the Board of Directors of The Elongated Collectors. One of my roles is to administer the annual coin design challenge, in which we choose a theme and challenge the club membership to submit coin designs based upon it. This year's theme celebrated space exploration and science fiction. Of course, being the administrator, I couldn't submit a design! But I was delighted to receive the entries and run the Board's vote for the winner. We chose a pretty nice design, I think, and I've written the newsletter article to announce the winner. From here on out, my role on the board will be to cast votes and voice my opinion as needed; no further hard work required. I'm OK with that. This was fun enough.

H.M.S. Surprise by Patrick O'Brian: Just completed this book, the third in the Aubrey/Maturin series and am completely hooked. It's all ironymaiden's fault! While I'm searching for a copy of book 4, I must figure out what to read in the meanwhile.

Knitting: I mentioned last week that I've taken up knitting and I recently finished my second piece, a charcoal-gray infinity scarf with metallic thread running through it. I'm pretty pleased with the result and I learned quite a bit while doing it. My next project will probably be a hat, mostly to learn more techniques rather than because I really want to make a hat. In the meanwhile, here's a picture of the completed piece:

I realize that I don't post quite as often as I used to, so here are five things that are going on around here to catch you up a bit.

1) New light fixture: Since about a year after I moved into my condo (and this is a long time ago now), the light fixture in my great room has been broken--not smashed-broken, just non-functional broken. I finally decided a couple of weeks ago to do something about it. A neighbor of mine does electrical work, so I had him come in to look at the thing; it was definitely time for it to go. (I thought there might be a wiring problem in the wall, but it was the fixture itself.) Last weekend, I went light fixture shopping and purchased this really cool pendant light (except mine won't have the yellow stripe in the catalog shot) that I think will look great up there. I'll probably end up buying a couple more to replace the light in the kitchen and in the main downstairs room (though that second one will require more work than a mere replacement). Very excited for its arrival and installation.

2) New glasses frames: I recently had an eye exam and my prescription has changed--as my prescription is wont to do. It amazes me that my vision could get any worse than it has been, but there it is. New glasses frames--a serious departure from what I have now--are on order. I promise pictures where they arrive.

3) Rainforest Writers Village and writing: On Wednesday, I depart for my annual retreat to the rainforest. I'm looking forward to it for many reasons, but I also go with some trepidation. I've had increasing trouble writing fiction, wound up with feelings of inadequacy, despair about success (a self-fulfilling prophecy when one doesn't submit, I admit), poor discipline and so on. I'm looking forward to some concentrated time to not only write, but to evaluate what I want and what makes sense in terms of my energy and effort. So much of my self-image is wrapped up in writing and editing. I need to examine it all much more closely than I have lately. I don't know if it's a signal of my trepidation about it all, but I've been having trouble even cleaning the house in preparation for my absence.

4) Knitting: I continue my experiment in loom knitting by working on an infinity scarf, a how-to which I found in, of all places, a cooking blog. I know I've already made a scarf, but this one teaches me a new stitch on the loom as well as requiring me to learn how to do a different kind of cast off and how to flat seam a piece together--three new techniques in one project, so a second scarf project is justified. There will be pictures at some point.

5) Reading: I have been a restless reader lately. I abandoned the Jenny Lawson memoir "Let's Pretend This Never Happened"--I found the voice just repetitive and obnoxious after a while--and have moved on to the third Aubrey/Maturin novel, "H.M.S. Surprise," which I'm enjoying just as much as I did the first two. After a string of unfinished reading, this one I may complete. I've picked up so many new books lately that I'm actually a little cowed by deciding what comes next. Something surely will come next, however. Surely.

Time for another book round-up. Every single book in this round-up is part of a series. It seems to have been a trend for me in the last four months. Hm.

London Falling by Paul Cornell: I was looking forward to this dark urban fantasy by Paul Cornell. I've been such a fan of his Doctor Who work, and he was perfectly delightful when I saw him at WorldCon a few years ago. This novel is set, predictably, in London. The story starts with the peculiar death of a local mobster. In the course of investigating his death, a group of British police come into contact with an artifact that gives them The Sight, the ability to see the supernatural around them, which reveals the true evil lurking in London's core. As they track down a series of murders and disappearances that all appear connected to a British soccer team, a mysterious old woman, and one of England's most famous royals, they uncover a larger story that spans English history and threatens all of their lives. While I enjoyed the book overall, something about it felt a little strained to me, as if the author was stretching for that one last bit of ain't-it-cool. The flavor of the book is unmistakably English and therefore rather delicious. At the same time, that sense of trying a little too hard just never left me. It seems to me that Cornell is setting the stage for a series with this book; I don't know whether or not I'll give another volume in this particular series a try.

Changeless, Blameless and Timeless all by Gail Carriger: The last three books in the 5-book Parasol Protectorate series are all terribly clever--light entertainment from start to finish. If you haven't read them, they follow the adventures of one Alexia Tarrabotti, her werewolf husband Lord Conall Maccon, and their entertaining set of associates in a Victorian London where the society of werewolves and vampires is part of the social fabric. Alexia is a preternatural--that is, her touch can turn supernatural people into humans for its duration--and over the course of the series of books, she becomes embroiled in both English and supernatural politics, while also following the mystery of her father's life and death. I thought the first, second and fifth books the strongest in a series that is pretty entertaining over all--light, funny, and yet intriguing all at once. My favorite creations of Carriger's are the aforementioned Maccon, a gruff, thoughtful, sexy werewolf, Lord Akeldama, an ancient and flamboyant vampire of uncertain origin, outrageous taste, and distinctly fabulous proclivities, and Madame Genevieve Lefoux, inventor, charmer, and general troublemaker. I thought I might just recycle these books to my local used bookstore, but I may keep the books and read the series through again when I need light entertainment. I enjoyed them hugely. Carriger's work is witty, inventive, and recommended.

Libriomancer by Jim Hines: I've been following jimhines here on LJ for a while now and have been impressed by his thoughtful posts and general good humor. I finally decided I ought to dip into his books and see what he had to offer. Libriomancer seemed like a natural place to start, with Isaac, its magic-weilding librarian, whose power to pull weapons and artifacts out of books gets him into pretty enormous trouble. I wasn't disappointed. Along with Isaac himself--a libriomancer no longer allowed to use his powers--Hines' fast-moving narrative introduces Isaac's sword-weilding dryad love interest Lena and his delightful little fire spider Smudge as they navigate a mystery that threatens Die Zwelf Portenaere, a league of magic users whose job it is to protect the world from supernatural threats. I love Hines' magic system--as a lifelong reader, how could I not?--and enjoyed learning about the arcane history and backstory he's created for his world. Libriomancer was a fun and satisfying read, and I need to pick up volume 2, Codex Born, to see where all this goes.

Heart of Briar by Laura Anne Gilman suricattus: Jan, a New York City computer programmer, finds herself accosted by supernatural creatures when her QA tester boyfriend Tyler disappears. He's been kidnapped, and Jan's being enlisted to find him by a kelpie, a werewolf, and a whole cast of supernatural characters. Tyler's abduction is the latest of a series of incursions into our world by elves who have a larger, rather sinister agenda. To her dismay, Jan learns about the supernatural society she's never seen before and parallel worlds she's never heard of through a series of pretty terrifying encounters. Her mission takes her into a dangerous dimension and she has to rely on her unreliable new friends to help her get Tyler back. I liked the portrayal of Jan as an inhaler-dependent, slightly ADD woman, capable yet unsure, determined, occasionally prickly, but always on target toward her goal. I also liked the portrayal of the elves: supremely weird, supremely remote, and utterly unconcerned with human business. I was a little distracted by things that would only distract me--details about Jan and Tyler's work that someone like me who's worked in tech for years would notice, things that didn't quite ring true--but they were minor distractions to the larger story, which was intriguing enough for me to want to read the second volume in this urban fantasy duology. I'm genuinely curious about how things will wrap up.

Master and Commander by Patrick O'Brian: I adored the film based on O'Brian's series of books, and after years of encouragement from ironymaiden I finally decided to pick up the first book in this series about Captain Jack Aubrey and Dr. Stephen Maturin and their adventures on the high seas during the Napoleonic era. There was a great deal to enjoy about this book--the complete immersion into the world of the British Navy and life on a sailing vessel, the interplay between Aubrey and Maturin, the pure adventure of it all. I didn't expect some of what I got--which is that the book isn't really an end-to-end story so much as a chronicle of Aubrey's first command. It's a series of adventures linked together by the Aubrey/Maturin relationship and Jack's development as a man and a commander. I certainly enjoyed it and will continue to pick up the volumes, but I'm not compulsively compelled to read them all as I know others have been. It was an interesting read and truly beautifully written, with a voice perfect for the era that just carries you effortlessly along. Well worth my time, this book and, I'm sure, those to come.

Captain America: Man Out of Time by Mark Waid, Jorge Molina, and Jack Kirby: I picked up this compilation volume on the strength of a recommendation by a friend whose taste in comics has never steered me wrong. The volume follows Steve Rogers' introduction to the 21st century and the conflict he faces about going back in time to save a friend's life. I had been prepared for a powerhouse experience, and while the narrative and illustrations are certainly good, I wasn't blown away, as I had been hyped to be. I enjoyed the reading and the illustrations were terrific, full of energy and emotion. Was I overwhelmed? No. It was worth the time, but I found it no more remarkable than many of the comics compilations I've read.

Half A Crown by Jo Walton papersky: I finally read the last volume of Jo Walton's Small Change trilogy set in an alternate, Fascist Britain. (See my thoughts about Farthing [in among other reviews from earlier this year] and Ha'Penny.) It's 1960, and Inspector Carmichael is now Commander of the Watch, firmly under the thumb of the Prime Minister, caretaker of his late police partner's teenage daughter Elvira, and trying to navigate his precarious position as both enforcer and covert force for good. When Elvira, raised as a lady and about to be a debutante, attends a Fascist rally, she is swept up with other attendees by the police, and finds herself suspected of anti-Crown activities. Proposed to by a politically suspect Lord, she is doubly suspected. Carmichael is drawn into what becomes a breaking point in the Fascist regime's hold on Britain, and he must make choices that could compromise everything he's tried to do for good, not to mention the safety of both his lover and his ward. Though perhaps not as strong as the first book in the series, Half a Crown still brings on the power of Walton's alternate world vision, and Carmichael is still an engaging character. Harder for me to identify with was Elvira, raised in the Fascist environment with upper-class privilege and oblivious to the darkness around her. She tries to do the right thing and eventually gets it, but I kept wanting to smack her. Ultimately, that's what her experiences do and it was satisfying--though occasionally harrowing--to watch her finally figure things out. The end felt a little rushed to me. It all winds up rather quickly. For all that, however, I enjoyed traveling with Carmichael one last time and seeing how all this history turns out. Walton's prose is strong and lovely. Well done and recommended.

1) Non-binding Reading Poll: The results are in. In a tie for first place was The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and Ha'penny. The latter won my attention and I started it on the bus this morning. Quite enjoying it so far.

2) Entertainments: In the last couple of weeks, I've taken a tour of the historic Paramount Theater here in Seattle (fascinating and moving), visited EMP for the "Fantasy: Worlds of Myth and Magic" exhibit which I thoroughly enjoyed, had a fabulous weekend on the Olympic Peninsula in Quilcene and Port Townsend, and took a marvelous tour of historic homes in Portland. It's been a good, busy time.

3) Uncommitted: Monday, Tuesday, and tonight are the first uncommitted evenings I've had in weeks, and it feels like an absolutely luxury. I have an appointment tomorrow evening (hair cut and color), and then the weekend is pretty loose--and I'm working hard to have it remain so. I need the time, mostly to decompress and find myself a little bit again.

4) Sophie bit my nose: I was sitting here on the computer and I started whistling. Both Sophie and Zeke started meowing. Sophie jumped up and settled on my lap. I continued to whistle ("I Feel Pretty," to be specific). Then she got up, perched her front paws on my chest, opened her mouth, tilted her head and chomped the bridge of my nose! She didn't break the skin, but she bit hard enough for me to get the message that she didn't like my whistling. Which makes me sad. I love to whistle. Ow. Maybe she just doesn't like Leonard Bernstein but I am not inclined to experiment to find out, if a chomp on the nose is the consequence. Ow.

5) Gardening: I have harvested several salads from the lettuce I planted on the balcony earlier this summer, and it's been delightful to have fresh salad right at my fingertips. I'm looking forward to the carrots getting large enough to pick. I hope they succeed. I suspect they will be kind of small, given my balcony, its exposure and so on, but it was worth a try. We Shall See.

Post-script: The unrepentant beast:

Ironskin by Tina Connolly: Short version: Jane Eyre with magic. Connolly creates a Gothic romantic fantasy set in the Eyre era, positing a world where human and fey fought a war, leaving whole populations of humans scarred with fey magic. Jane Elliot is one such woman, wearing an iron mask over half her face to contain the fey magic that has infected her. She accepts a job to be governess to a little human girl with fey heritage, hired by the mysterious Mr. Rochart, a man whose strange work studio and the parade of beautiful women through his home poses questions that Jane cannot help but investigate. Being a Jane Eyre enthusiast since I was a child, I was excited to read this novel. Much as I wanted to like it--and much as I admired the ambition and worldbuilding ideas behind it--I found the construction a little awkward. The novel hews so closely to Bronte's original that one cannot help drawing comparisons and it was hard for me to separate this reading experience from that of reading a book I've adored since I was a tween. I was bound to find Ironskin wanting, even given its strengths. On the one hand, as I said, I loved this idea of an England recovering from the violent tumult of a magical war and the way the populace deals with the (almost literal) fallout. On the other hand, I found myself feeling a little unmoored in the narrative, unclear on when exactly the story was supposed to be taking place, feeling as though some of Jane's thoughts and reactions weren't always consistent with her experience. I sometimes felt as though she was doing things more because the author needed her to do them than because they made sense in terms of character or action. Overall, it was a challenging read for me.

Soulless by Gail Carrigar: Alexia Tarrabotti lives in a Victorian London where vampires and werewolves are part of society both high and low. She herself is supernatual as well, a spinster of Italian extraction who is without a soul (which gives her the ability to touch vampires and werewolves and make them human again, at least for the duration of her touch), and becomes embroiled in mysteries laid on top of mysteries when she accidentally kills a vampire. This book (and its sequel Changeless) is an absolute delight: funny, intriguing, with a charming romance in the mix. I've already got the last three books in the Parasol Protectorate series on order, and am looking forward to reading them all.

Fuzzy Nation by John Scalzi: You don't go to Scalzi for literary reflection or densely written prose. You read Scalzi for action, clever storytelling, and insight where you don't expect it. That was my experience with Fuzzy Nation, a riff on H. Beam Piper's classic novel Little Fuzzy. Written with a smart, snarky narrative voice and a classic SF feel, the book follows the trials of prospector Jack Holloway. While investigating a planet for mineable resources, Holloway discovers that said planet may have an indigenous sentient population--something that could push his employers off the planet and cost them billions. Holloway must navigate the politics and science of a touchy, legally fraught terrain, and find his way out without getting killed and without getting the fuzzies exterminated in the process. This book was so much fun. If you haven't read it already, please do.

Dervish House by Ian McDonald. I attempted this book with great anticipation. It is magnificently, densely written, evoking the city of Istanbul as a character, as much as the eponymous house--and I only got a third of the way through because I realized that it required more focus and concentration than I had to devote to it at the time. I put it down, but I will come back to it. Ian's work deserves the attention it requires. His prose is rich, textured--just astonishing. (And now I want to go to Istanbul more than ever.)

A Fire Upon the Deep by Vernor Vinge: A classic, large-scale space adventure with an unusual first-contact story--terrific alien races and a smart, likeable group of protagnostics at its heart. This was another book that required focus and attention, and it paid me back with ambitious, amazing worldbuilding on a galactic scale. It's so big that it's hard to describe the plot. It earned the Hugo Award that it won, and there's every possibility that I'll read it again at some point.

Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill: I've heard so much about Joe Hill over the last year or so that I had to pick up this first novel. It centers on retired heavy metal musician Judas Coyne who, in a moment of curiosity, buys what is advertised as a ghost on eBay. What arrives is an old man's suit in a heart-shaped box. Mayhem ensues. In the course of reading this book, I discovered two things: 1) Hill is as good a writer as everyone says and well worth reading, and 2) I don't have the heart for reading horror anymore. I got about halfway through and realized that I don't need existential terror right now or the kind of disturbing imagery that Hill's able prose evokes. Recommended for horror readers and lovers of rock'n'roll.

Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell: Six stories that span the depth of centuries form what is ultimately a braided science fiction novel about how souls migrate through time and how human stories transcend their circumstances. I was awed by Mitchell's abilities to switch genres and voices in such an effortless way, and enjoyed the differences I found between the book and its filmed counterpart. His characters are rich and well drawn. Excellent read. Just excellent.

I'm currently reading Reading Lolita in Tehran about which I'll have something to say about when I'm done. I don't want to post my half-realized thoughts about it, even though I'm tempted to. What I'll say for now is that I don't usually read memoir and it's an interesting experience.

1) I just finished reading Christopher Moore's Sacre Bleu, which was recommended to me by skidspoppe and I am here to tell you that it's not only a good book, it's a good fantasy, and that if you read genre you must read it. Seriously. (And if you are interested in art or history you should read it, too.) It's set mainly in Paris in the 1890s, mostly on Montmartre, the story provoked by Vincent van Gogh's death, and centered around the love affair between one Lucien Lessard, an artist and baker, and a beautiful, enigmatic woman named Juliette, and the color blue. Also around Lessard's friendship with Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, who is probably my favorite character in the book. Moore builds a wonderful history/mystery around the whole community of Impressionists, their work, and Juliette and her peculiar companion, the Colorman. The story hops between time periods, going back thousands of years and forward to 2012. I thought it was terrific, slyly (and sometimes broadly) funny. And it was great fun to read now that I've been to Paris and have seen so many of the locations mentioned. Well worth the read.

2) I leave at lunch time for Portland, there to work in my company's headquarters for a day, and to visit with davidlevine, kateyule, jaylake and anyone else I'm fortunate enough to run into while I'm there.

3) Spring has sprung in Seattle, with sunny skies and temps in the mid-60s. Given my decades of experience in the region, I know the sunshine won't last, but I'm going to enjoy it while it's here.

4) I bought myself a pretty tote/computer bag that is seasonally appropriate--all pink-and-white paisley and waterproof (more or less)--and I am ridiculously happy with it.

5) Zeke is growing up to be extremely opinionated about pretty much everything, but especially about the fact that he thinks I don't spend nearly enough time playing with him and far too much time sitting at my computer. Meow meow meow all day long, with the occasional whine thrown in for good measure. I don't think I taught him that last habit, but I feel like it confirms my worst fears about myself: whine whine whine. ::sigh:: Our children learn what we teach them whether or not we mean to.

1) The Bus and Books: With the new commute--a bus and the streetcar into downtown Seattle, and then a bus home--I'm getting a lot of reading done. And my reading pattern is becoming more what it was like back in New York, which is to say that I have a commuting book and a bedtime book--back to reading two at a time. I feel more like myself. My last two books were Redshirts by John Scalzi and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. My current two books are Murder in the Marais by Cara Black and Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. (Yes, I'm preparing for the release of "Catching Fire" in the theaters this summer. We're all allowed our lighter fare.) In the background, I'm still reading, a couple of pages at a time, Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin. It's so dense and delicious that I need to parse it out, which means it's going to take forever to read. I don't care. John Adams took forever to read (except when I'd devote entire Saturdays to making substantial headway) and I enjoyed every moment of it. Same thing with the Goodwin. I read slower than I used to, probably because I'm using bifocals now, so there's no insanely impressive reading list as I've seen on some of my friends' LJs--but a bit at a time is still progress and pleasure. Good enough for me.

2) The New Job: The new job is going pretty well. I'm getting along well with my coworkers and I'm beginning to receive more challenging assignments and more responsibility. I'm having to learn more quickly and, also, having to be patient when someone assumes I don't know something that I know very well. It's a balancing act. But it's good. I wish I enjoyed the commute more. Even with the reading, I'm not entirely happy with walking to the bus in the pouring-down rain. Must take advantage of telecommuting a little more.

3) Zeke: Getting bigger; almost as big as Sophie, but still lean and rangy in an adolescent-cat sort of way. Plays fetch at his own instigation. Hasn't broken anything lately. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

4) Good company on Pi Day: Had a wonderful sushi dinner last night with markferrari and calendula_witch at Chiso in downtown Fremont. Lovely atmosphere, and with only one exception, everything was superior, from drinks to dessert. (And the exception wasn't dramatic; it was still delicious, just not up to the standards of the rest of the meal.) Highly recommended. Of course, it was Pi Day, and so we walked across the street to a tiny bakery called "Pie" where we hoped to observe the day's required ritual. Alas, a sign in the window said, "Due to the craziness of Pi Day, Pie will be closing early, at 8 PM." And sure enough, the doors were locked. We went away heartsore and yearning for sweetness. Mark consoled himself with ice cream. Shannon and I suffered in silence. ::sigh:: But dinner itself? Delicious. And the company was quite, quite fine.

5) Another carless weekend: And so begins a second carless weekend. I'm actually looking forward to it. Learning to be resourceful about my transportation is good for me, I think, and I'm getting a lot of walking done. I'm still waiting for my ZipCar card to arrive, and now more so than ever since I need to take Sophie to the vet. But like all things in life, it will come with time. One way or another.

1) There's a big, handsome Steller's Jay on the neighbor's roof pecking at moss. Of which we have a lot in the Pacific Northwest.

2) Ezekiel woke me at 3:30 this morning. I fought him off, drowsed, was awakened again by him and Sophie playing tag on the bed, and ultimately got up because some nights sleep is a lost cause. I am tired.

3) Ezekiel's been about nothing but "Pay attention to me" today. I don't think he's getting quite the kind of attention he hoped for.

4) Last night's release party for L.A. Kornetsky's (a.k.a. suricattus) new novel "Collared" was great fun, and I'm sorry more people didn't show. The cake was to die for.

5) Sophie is sleeping more regularly with me again. I'm so glad.

When in Amsterdam, I visited Anne Frank House as one does, and while I was there I picked up a copy of the book. Astonishingly, I'd never actually read the book, though I knew the story and have seen the play. It seemed like it was time. What I picked up was "Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl--The Definitive Edition," so called because up until the late 1980s, the diary had never been published in its entirety. (In 1989, an authoritative and scholarly edition called "The Critical Edition" was published by Bantam in the U.S.--a large volume in hardcover that compared Anne's two versions along with Otto Frank's edited version, footnoted and including a variety of related studies and reports.) Otto, with the discretion of a father and the scruples of an earlier era, chose to edit out some of the more intimate or sexually explicit content for a general audience. This volume is a version that Frank and a translator/editor put together that contains the complete contents of the diary based on everything that Anne left.

It most definitely is the diary of a teenaged girl, with all the emotional upheaval one would expect: dramatic statements of independence from her parents, stark declarations of hatred of her mother, heartfelt longings for boys. But it also contains impressively mature observations about the people with whom she was in hiding: perceptive dissections of the characters of each, thoughts about the world, notes about the helpers who got her and her family through their two years of hiding. And then there are the day-to-day details of what it was like hiding from the Nazis with both its joys and privations: days and days with nothing but potatoes and lettuce, oftentimes rotten, oftentimes without even any spice to make it more palatable; growing out of clothes and shoes; the inability to get away from anyone else even for a moment; and, of course, the terror of being discovered. It's clear that Anne was smart and that she matured quickly in such a situation. Obviously, the book's a testament to courage in adversity.

I think it's also a prime example of the difference between our internal and external lives as we grow up. Anne was who she was long before she got to what we typically think of as adulthood; I suspect this is true of most of us, though few people have the capacity to express it the way she did (though I suspect my hyperliterary and hyperliterate social circle is an obvious exception to this observation). Otto Frank himself said that reading the diary was a revelation, that he felt as though he was discovering a whole different Anne than the one he knew. When kids insist that their parents don't really know them, it's probably a far truer thing than adults credit it with being.

Overall the book is a quick read. Anne's style (or at least, her translator's style) is breezy and accessible. I did have moments of an adult's impatience with a teenager's perspective, yet tempered with the knowledge that she was living in an extraordinary situation. It's one thing for a privileged middle-class kid in the US to whine about not being able to go out; it's another thing entirely for a girl hiding for her life in NAZI-occupied Holland to complain in the same words about the same thing--very, very different. So the book turns all those things we think of as typically teenage on its head. It shakes you up and makes you pay attention--and I think that's an important part of Anne's message.