Dead Bats and a Review

I’m going to find time to write today. I will not be a writer if I neglect the writing. First, I have to take the dead bat that my cats were all playing with to the Health Department to make sure it doesn’t have rabies. Good jolly morning we’re having here, especially if you’re the poor dead bat.

I’ve been thinking of Gaia’s Hands, and that one of my friends considered it “a fun read”. I never thought of it as a fun read, but I guess in some ways it is. A sentient monster vine, a rampant green thumb, an unlikely romance, a bad folksinger^*, a little snark.

It also has escalating acts of aggression within academia, scientific method^**, a breakup, a menacing presence, and computer espionage.

Ok, honestly, I can see how it would be a fun read. My favorite line in the book is when Josh, the male main character, says “Everyone has to start somewhere” at what might be an inconvenient time. Read it if you want to know how inconvenient a time.

* This is how we kill our exes as authors.

** We write what we know. I know academia.

Today is my 57th birthday.

Today is my 57th birthday. I tend to celebrate birthdays by making observations of the previous year, and this time is no different:

I don’t feel 57. I have the heart of a thirty-year-old. Unfortunately, I have the face and body of a 57-year-old.
Writing-wise:

I still have room to improve especially cover letters.
I have options: I can self-publish if I want.

World events:

I knew we were going to have a pandemic; I didn’t count on being this emotionally settled with it.
It truly seems as if the world I had grown up with: women’s rights, minority rights, gay rights — in other words, true equality — is crumbling. I need to find the right way to fight.

Personal life

I broke a curse that I had lived with all my life. I can’t explain it all here, but the situation had all of the hallmarks of a curse. End result: I accept that I am loveable as I am.
It’s really not bad being in one’s fifties — It makes me nervous that I’m closer to 60 than 50, and I can’t believe my high school graduation was almost 40 years ago.
I’m on a pretty even keel emotions wise, for which I am grateful.

In-between the disruption of COVID and the crimes of this political administration, beyond feeling overwhelmed by the changes in the world, the little crumbs of life are good — laughing with my husband, playing with Chloe the kitten, watching Poirot, interacting with students (as strange as it is with small classrooms and Zoom meetings).

Tonight I will go to dinner at William Coy’s with my husband and contemplate how I can make next year a better one.

Fangirling over TwoSet Violin

Ok. I’m fangirling over TwoSet Violin.

For the people who don’t know, TwoSet Violin is a darling pair of twenty-somethings classically trained in violin, who demystify violin for a non-technical audience (of which I’m one) and entertain in a thoroughly modern zaniness.

They (Brett Yang and Eddie Chen) post videos on YouTube where they highlight virtuoso violinists, roast obviously fake movie footage, throw jokes around about practicing and overly strict Asian moms, explain musical memes, and serenade unappreciative kangaroos.

Their videos are like potato chips — once you’ve had a handful, you crave more of them. Eddy plays straight man to Brett’s mobile expressions and fidgety energy. Their narration is augmented with popular culture in the form of video game noises, memes, and captions.

In a perfect world, I would get to meet the two of them, just to say hi. But that’s what all the fangirls, even the ones thirty years older, say.