May 2010
Oh So Slow Progress
I find myself still daunted by the prospect of trying
to write the synopsis for The Final Goodbye.
I've never been good at writing these things and I'm
not feeling much more confident now.
My research has told me that my synopsis can be up to 16 pages long, which is a really good thing to know. That fact alone makes the task seem less frightening: until recently, I had thought the synopsis to be only four pages long and still a full and complete summary of the events in the story. And I've even now made a start at writing it. I'm three paragraphs in and feeling fairly good about what I've produced.
In the meantime, I'm continuing my journey through the novels of Dick Francis. I'm now into the 1980s and the books are becoming longer and more complex. I've read all of them before, at least once, so I often pick up a new novel with some sense of what it's about. What amazes me is how unconsciously resistant I am to continue reading the ones that have particularly violent or nasty plots.
I had to force myself to read Banker, the first novel with what I would consider a truly monstrous villain. In Banker, Francis displays a hard edge, a willingness to kill off characters, even very innocent ones, for the sake of the plot, an interest in moving beyond your regular kinds of mayhem into pure nastiness and evil. Calder Jackson, the villain, is actually willing to poison pregnant brood mares to ensure badly deformed babies and destroy the reputation and value of the stud, a magnificent horse named Sandcastle.
Francis pulls no punches in this book and it is gut-wrenchingly effective.
He is also branching out when it comes to the nature of the romantic interest in the novel. In Banker, the protagonist is in love with the wife of his aging boss, feelings she apparently returns. But both keep their emotions under wraps throughout the book, finding small comfort in stolen moments and social niceties. It's a surprising sign of how far Francis is willing to go at this point in his career, however, when he not only writes of the illicit relationship with approbation throughout the novel but also goes so far as to bring news of the aging boss's death in the last paragraph, promising future happiness for the star-crossed lovers.
Nothing I'm saying here should suggest that Banker is anything but a highly effective, thoroughly entertaining novel. It's truly great. It's just interesting to see Francis pushing so boldly the boundaries of his own successful blueprint.
My research has told me that my synopsis can be up to 16 pages long, which is a really good thing to know. That fact alone makes the task seem less frightening: until recently, I had thought the synopsis to be only four pages long and still a full and complete summary of the events in the story. And I've even now made a start at writing it. I'm three paragraphs in and feeling fairly good about what I've produced.
In the meantime, I'm continuing my journey through the novels of Dick Francis. I'm now into the 1980s and the books are becoming longer and more complex. I've read all of them before, at least once, so I often pick up a new novel with some sense of what it's about. What amazes me is how unconsciously resistant I am to continue reading the ones that have particularly violent or nasty plots.
I had to force myself to read Banker, the first novel with what I would consider a truly monstrous villain. In Banker, Francis displays a hard edge, a willingness to kill off characters, even very innocent ones, for the sake of the plot, an interest in moving beyond your regular kinds of mayhem into pure nastiness and evil. Calder Jackson, the villain, is actually willing to poison pregnant brood mares to ensure badly deformed babies and destroy the reputation and value of the stud, a magnificent horse named Sandcastle.
Francis pulls no punches in this book and it is gut-wrenchingly effective.
He is also branching out when it comes to the nature of the romantic interest in the novel. In Banker, the protagonist is in love with the wife of his aging boss, feelings she apparently returns. But both keep their emotions under wraps throughout the book, finding small comfort in stolen moments and social niceties. It's a surprising sign of how far Francis is willing to go at this point in his career, however, when he not only writes of the illicit relationship with approbation throughout the novel but also goes so far as to bring news of the aging boss's death in the last paragraph, promising future happiness for the star-crossed lovers.
Nothing I'm saying here should suggest that Banker is anything but a highly effective, thoroughly entertaining novel. It's truly great. It's just interesting to see Francis pushing so boldly the boundaries of his own successful blueprint.
Marketing My Novel
27/05/10 22:39 Filed in: Writing
After receiving some lovely, very positive feedback
on The Silent Goodbye from a good friend
back in Hamilton, I'm feeling inspired now to begin
the process of attempting to find a publisher for the
novel. Of course, that means more writing: a cover
letter, a biographical note on myself as well as a
synopsis of the entire book.
I don't mind doing the cover letter, and the biographical note is no big deal, but the synopsis is something of a nightmare. From what I understand, editors and agents want you to give a detailed summary of the entire book, in present tense, in a way that conveys both the excitement of the story and every major incident that takes place. It's no easy task. I've tried to write synopses in the past and have always hated them.
But it's something I have to do if I want to get this novel in front of a publisher so I have to accept that writing a synopsis of The Silent Goodbye is my next writing task.
In the meantime, I'm starting to turn my mind (and my typing fingers) to the job of integrating my short story "Violet" into the original novel, All That Glisters, at the same time as changing both into third-person narration and bringing the writing style more in line with The Silent Goodbye. No easy task. But one I think I'll enjoy, once I get into it.
I am also considering changing the name of the resulting novel. What do you think of The Smell of Blood or The Scent of Blood or A Taste for Blood? My original plan was for all the novels to have titles with the word "Gold" either in them or implied by them (like A Fleck of Gold and All That Glisters [Is Not Gold]). I'm not sure I'm so fond of that idea any more.
From what I've seen, of course, if I ever find a publisher for these books, she'll probably want to change the titles anyway! And, if she wants to publish my novels, quite frankly she can name them whatever she wants.
I don't mind doing the cover letter, and the biographical note is no big deal, but the synopsis is something of a nightmare. From what I understand, editors and agents want you to give a detailed summary of the entire book, in present tense, in a way that conveys both the excitement of the story and every major incident that takes place. It's no easy task. I've tried to write synopses in the past and have always hated them.
But it's something I have to do if I want to get this novel in front of a publisher so I have to accept that writing a synopsis of The Silent Goodbye is my next writing task.
In the meantime, I'm starting to turn my mind (and my typing fingers) to the job of integrating my short story "Violet" into the original novel, All That Glisters, at the same time as changing both into third-person narration and bringing the writing style more in line with The Silent Goodbye. No easy task. But one I think I'll enjoy, once I get into it.
I am also considering changing the name of the resulting novel. What do you think of The Smell of Blood or The Scent of Blood or A Taste for Blood? My original plan was for all the novels to have titles with the word "Gold" either in them or implied by them (like A Fleck of Gold and All That Glisters [Is Not Gold]). I'm not sure I'm so fond of that idea any more.
From what I've seen, of course, if I ever find a publisher for these books, she'll probably want to change the titles anyway! And, if she wants to publish my novels, quite frankly she can name them whatever she wants.
Black Fly Bites
A beautiful Victoria Day weekend here in Nota Bene
has brought with it sunshine, warm temperatures, golf
and black flies. If you're counting, that's three to
the good but one very, very bad.
I had never really dealt with black flies until I arrived here in Freddie two years ago. When I was a kid, friends talked about them after trips to their cottages in the Muskokas and Kawarthas but I had lived a black-fly-free life. I didn't know how lucky I was but now I know the truth: black flies are right little bastards.
I played eighteen holes of golf Saturday morning and ran headlong into the black-fly menace. It was bad enough that I hung up my worst performance of the year with the clubs but coming home to find six serious bites on my arms made the whole experience a nightmare. Literally. For the last three nights, my sleep has been affected and, on this night, I'm awake at 3:30 in the morning, my arms on fire and itching, my head spinning. I also have an itchy eye and, fool that I am, I failed to heed the warning signs in time to get some antihistamines to help me.
Awful awful awful awful.
Holiday Monday turned into a bit of an early-summer scorcher meaning that, but for brief jaunts into the world to exercise the dog, we holed up in our oh-so-cool basement to do laundry and watch movies. The best of the three was Julie & Julia, the Meryl Streep/Amy Adams comedy from a year or so ago. I really enjoyed this movie and was once again blown away by Meryl Streep. This is, by all accounts, a minor little film in her repertoire and yet, there she is, delivering yet another stunning performance. She hits all the right notes as the famous chef, Julia Child, creating a wonderful chemistry with on-screen husband Stanley Tucci. Streep makes this movie worth seeing, her acting performance easily overcoming the weaknesses of the parallel plots.
We also watched a harmless British confection, Confetti, the story of a wedding magazine's search for the most original nuptials. Half mockumentary and half mad-cap comedy, Confetti bounces along fairly well and ends in a surprisingly satisfying way. We were pleasantly surprised to find Martin Freeman popping up again, having first encountered the every-man actor in Love, Actually, then later in the English version of The Office, which we have just gotten around to watching this summer. There were times during our viewing when I found myself wondering why Confetti hadn't done better at the box office (the website Rotten Tomatoes reports that the movie earned merely $145,000) only to be confronted again by a string of completely nude people in one of the three sub-plots. The nudity is so aggressive and in-your-face that it detracts from the entire film.
Back to work tomorrow and, if the black flies will allow it, back to sleep now.
I had never really dealt with black flies until I arrived here in Freddie two years ago. When I was a kid, friends talked about them after trips to their cottages in the Muskokas and Kawarthas but I had lived a black-fly-free life. I didn't know how lucky I was but now I know the truth: black flies are right little bastards.
I played eighteen holes of golf Saturday morning and ran headlong into the black-fly menace. It was bad enough that I hung up my worst performance of the year with the clubs but coming home to find six serious bites on my arms made the whole experience a nightmare. Literally. For the last three nights, my sleep has been affected and, on this night, I'm awake at 3:30 in the morning, my arms on fire and itching, my head spinning. I also have an itchy eye and, fool that I am, I failed to heed the warning signs in time to get some antihistamines to help me.
Awful awful awful awful.
Holiday Monday turned into a bit of an early-summer scorcher meaning that, but for brief jaunts into the world to exercise the dog, we holed up in our oh-so-cool basement to do laundry and watch movies. The best of the three was Julie & Julia, the Meryl Streep/Amy Adams comedy from a year or so ago. I really enjoyed this movie and was once again blown away by Meryl Streep. This is, by all accounts, a minor little film in her repertoire and yet, there she is, delivering yet another stunning performance. She hits all the right notes as the famous chef, Julia Child, creating a wonderful chemistry with on-screen husband Stanley Tucci. Streep makes this movie worth seeing, her acting performance easily overcoming the weaknesses of the parallel plots.
We also watched a harmless British confection, Confetti, the story of a wedding magazine's search for the most original nuptials. Half mockumentary and half mad-cap comedy, Confetti bounces along fairly well and ends in a surprisingly satisfying way. We were pleasantly surprised to find Martin Freeman popping up again, having first encountered the every-man actor in Love, Actually, then later in the English version of The Office, which we have just gotten around to watching this summer. There were times during our viewing when I found myself wondering why Confetti hadn't done better at the box office (the website Rotten Tomatoes reports that the movie earned merely $145,000) only to be confronted again by a string of completely nude people in one of the three sub-plots. The nudity is so aggressive and in-your-face that it detracts from the entire film.
Back to work tomorrow and, if the black flies will allow it, back to sleep now.
Taming the Jungle
21/05/10 03:23 Filed in: Garden
It would seem that this spring's weather here in Nota
Bene has been perfect for the growth of grass. The
frenzied growth of grass. The out of control, out of
the ordinary growth of tall, thick, luscious,
impenetrable grass.
I came back from Ontario ten days ago to find our backyard had turned into an absolute jungle. So, last Thursday, it was with some relief that I finally got the chance to roll out our electric lawn mower and begin the task of bringing it back under control. Little did I know but the lawn had no intention of going down without a fight. The photograph below shows the lawn (with Marlee) in better, tamer times. Don't be fooled.
I decided to divide the task into smaller,
bite-sized chunks since I knew every square foot of
lawn would require several slow passes of the mower
to get through the sometimes foot-tall grass. I
worked slowly on the southern half of the backyard to
start and everything seemed to be going fine. After
about a half hour, a friend dropped by with her dog
for a visit, giving me a chance to take a break and
the mower a chance to cool down. So far so good.
After the dogs had a nice romp and the friend and her pooch had left, I fearlessly returned to the job, intent on finishing at least the southern half of the yard. All that was left was a particularly thick section of grass but I figured, with patience and perseverance, me and the old Yardworks 12-amp mower would get through. Less than five minutes later, however, I was standing over the mower, watching smoke pour out of its on/off switch box, listening to an ominous electrical crackling from within it. The lawn, it would seem, had gotten the better of the machine.
I'm no handy-person and, I'll be honest, I don't much like messing with electricity in any way, shape or form. I usually know my limits. But, in this case, I unplugged the machine, took apart the little box and found only a little bit of soot and a lot of very normal looking wiring. So I put it all back together, plugged it back in and very carefully switched it on. More smoke, more crackling, more reason to fear. I unplugged the mower, coiled up the extension cord and called it a day.
A week later, after a great deal of research
and some consultation with those more knowledgeable
than us, we finally bought a replacement for our dead
soldier: a new Craftsman gas mower from Sears. It's
got a Briggs & Stratton "Platinum Edition"
engine, 190 cubic centimeters, delivering 9.0
foot-pounds of gross torque (whatever that means). If
this thing doesn't have the power to tame our lawn,
nothing will. It'll mulch, throw the cuttings into a
rear (dust resistant) bag or simply fire them out the
side of its body and into the world. I'm so excited
to give it a try I can't sleep. That's why I'm
sitting here writing this blog entry at 3:45 in the
morning.
I have to get through a full day of work before I get the chance to gas it up and go. But I'm stoked. Look out grass; you've met your mulch!
I came back from Ontario ten days ago to find our backyard had turned into an absolute jungle. So, last Thursday, it was with some relief that I finally got the chance to roll out our electric lawn mower and begin the task of bringing it back under control. Little did I know but the lawn had no intention of going down without a fight. The photograph below shows the lawn (with Marlee) in better, tamer times. Don't be fooled.
After the dogs had a nice romp and the friend and her pooch had left, I fearlessly returned to the job, intent on finishing at least the southern half of the yard. All that was left was a particularly thick section of grass but I figured, with patience and perseverance, me and the old Yardworks 12-amp mower would get through. Less than five minutes later, however, I was standing over the mower, watching smoke pour out of its on/off switch box, listening to an ominous electrical crackling from within it. The lawn, it would seem, had gotten the better of the machine.
I'm no handy-person and, I'll be honest, I don't much like messing with electricity in any way, shape or form. I usually know my limits. But, in this case, I unplugged the machine, took apart the little box and found only a little bit of soot and a lot of very normal looking wiring. So I put it all back together, plugged it back in and very carefully switched it on. More smoke, more crackling, more reason to fear. I unplugged the mower, coiled up the extension cord and called it a day.
I have to get through a full day of work before I get the chance to gas it up and go. But I'm stoked. Look out grass; you've met your mulch!
Catching Up On Francis
18/05/10 21:12 Filed in: Reading
My recent trip to Ontario provided me with ample
opportunities to read: I read during the airport
waits and on the flights themselves; I enjoyed my
books while traveling in and around Toronto/Hamilton
on the trains and buses of the Ontario GO Transit
system; and I also found myself with time to kill in
various coffee shops and on park benches in Hamilton.
I guess it shouldn't surprise me, then, that I read not only the Artemis Fowl book but also three novels by my favourite, Dick Francis. First up was Whip Hand, the fantastic second novel featuring Sid Halley as the protagonist. This is a great book and, in my mind, represents the true coming of age of Francis' writing. Whip Hand offers both a more complex plot (or series of inter-woven plots), more cruel and devious villains as well as a deeper exploration of the main character. I think a poll of Francis fans would identify this novel as one of the top three in his entire collection.
Then came Reflex, which is at or near the top of my personal list of Francis novels. I'm not sure why I like this book so much but it really resonates with me. The main character, Philip Nore, is a young jump jockey with a passion for photography and a murky past. Even as he gets drawn into a deadly mystery left behind by a deceased professional photographer, his estranged maternal grandmother manipulates him into searching for the half-sister he never knew. It's a wonderful blending of the two main story lines and Nore himself is a fascinating character. I always launch into reading this novel with great pleasure and, despite having read it several times in the past, I am never disappointed.
Twice Shy is a less effective story, told in two parts. In the first half, teacher Jonathan Derry finds himself the target of a murderous father-and-son team, desperate to get their hands on a computer program that captures the magic of the only successful betting system for horse races ever created. Fifteen years later, Jonathan's younger brother William becomes the new target of the bullying son, fresh out of prison. William too must find a way to stifle the killer and keep his loved ones safe. It's an inventive structure and an interesting premise but I just don't feel it's entirely successful. I do, however, find it interesting to read about early programming practices for the first personal computers.
I even got a start on Banker before arriving home but I've been so busy since my return that I'm only just getting to the heart of it. Again, I don't think it's the best he's ever written but Francis does do a nice job of creating an interesting platonic relationship between the main character and his boss' wife. The villain, horse healer Calder Jackson, is also a wonderful creation.
I have found this process of reading Francis' novels in order, in such a tight time line, highly instructive. I'm able to see how his writing style has developed, how approaches he tests in early novels are perfected in later ones, and how he gained confidence in his ability to create increasingly complex plots, often involving a weaving together of complementary sub-plots.
So it's been a worthwhile exercise for me, from both an enjoyment and a learning perspective.
I guess it shouldn't surprise me, then, that I read not only the Artemis Fowl book but also three novels by my favourite, Dick Francis. First up was Whip Hand, the fantastic second novel featuring Sid Halley as the protagonist. This is a great book and, in my mind, represents the true coming of age of Francis' writing. Whip Hand offers both a more complex plot (or series of inter-woven plots), more cruel and devious villains as well as a deeper exploration of the main character. I think a poll of Francis fans would identify this novel as one of the top three in his entire collection.
Then came Reflex, which is at or near the top of my personal list of Francis novels. I'm not sure why I like this book so much but it really resonates with me. The main character, Philip Nore, is a young jump jockey with a passion for photography and a murky past. Even as he gets drawn into a deadly mystery left behind by a deceased professional photographer, his estranged maternal grandmother manipulates him into searching for the half-sister he never knew. It's a wonderful blending of the two main story lines and Nore himself is a fascinating character. I always launch into reading this novel with great pleasure and, despite having read it several times in the past, I am never disappointed.
Twice Shy is a less effective story, told in two parts. In the first half, teacher Jonathan Derry finds himself the target of a murderous father-and-son team, desperate to get their hands on a computer program that captures the magic of the only successful betting system for horse races ever created. Fifteen years later, Jonathan's younger brother William becomes the new target of the bullying son, fresh out of prison. William too must find a way to stifle the killer and keep his loved ones safe. It's an inventive structure and an interesting premise but I just don't feel it's entirely successful. I do, however, find it interesting to read about early programming practices for the first personal computers.
I even got a start on Banker before arriving home but I've been so busy since my return that I'm only just getting to the heart of it. Again, I don't think it's the best he's ever written but Francis does do a nice job of creating an interesting platonic relationship between the main character and his boss' wife. The villain, horse healer Calder Jackson, is also a wonderful creation.
I have found this process of reading Francis' novels in order, in such a tight time line, highly instructive. I'm able to see how his writing style has developed, how approaches he tests in early novels are perfected in later ones, and how he gained confidence in his ability to create increasingly complex plots, often involving a weaving together of complementary sub-plots.
So it's been a worthwhile exercise for me, from both an enjoyment and a learning perspective.
Fowl and Potter
13/05/10 08:13 Filed in: Reading
An Open Letter to Emily and Clare,
Hi Emily and Clare,
I want to start by thanking you for introducing me to Artemis Fowl, the 12-year-old criminal mastermind created by Eoin Colfer. After our discussion at the dinner table last Sunday night, during which you told me that you and your friends are involved in a big debate over who is better, Harry Potter or Artemis Fowl, I decided I should go and check this Fowl guy out. As you know, I had a really hard time remember the little villain's name; I ended up reducing him (as suggested by your dad) to "Greek Duck". I did indeed manage to find a copy of the first Artemis Fowl book at the Bookworm in Westdale.
I then read this entire first book, titled perhaps predictably Artemis Fowl, before I got on the plane to fly back to Fredericton the next day.
I really enjoyed it. It's fun and witty and involves a playful third-person narrator who likes to talk to the reader directly. The "fairy world" is vividly created and the characters of Artemis Fowl, Holly Short, and Butler are well-drawn and interesting. I can't say the plot itself made me do cartwheels but it was certainly workable and moved at a nice pace.
But does it compete with Harry Potter? No way! Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone is a work of art. It is both subtle and clever and the idea of introducing the main character (and, with him, the reader) slowly into the magical world is brilliant. We feel awe as Harry arrives, for the first time, at Diagon Alley, at Gringott's, and finally at Hogwarts, as he discovers the powers within him and the friends (and enemies) who surround him. The plot is intricate and scary and the weaving together of the magical and muggle worlds makes the book memorable.
I think Artemis Fowl is very good, no doubt, but you can tell all your friends, from me, that comparing Fowl to Potter is about as fair as comparing your local police officer with James Bond. Harry Potter wins out, easily and with an abundance of class!
Thank you for giving me the chance to contribute to the ongoing debate.
Sincerely,
Uncle Mark
Hi Emily and Clare,
I want to start by thanking you for introducing me to Artemis Fowl, the 12-year-old criminal mastermind created by Eoin Colfer. After our discussion at the dinner table last Sunday night, during which you told me that you and your friends are involved in a big debate over who is better, Harry Potter or Artemis Fowl, I decided I should go and check this Fowl guy out. As you know, I had a really hard time remember the little villain's name; I ended up reducing him (as suggested by your dad) to "Greek Duck". I did indeed manage to find a copy of the first Artemis Fowl book at the Bookworm in Westdale.
I then read this entire first book, titled perhaps predictably Artemis Fowl, before I got on the plane to fly back to Fredericton the next day.
I really enjoyed it. It's fun and witty and involves a playful third-person narrator who likes to talk to the reader directly. The "fairy world" is vividly created and the characters of Artemis Fowl, Holly Short, and Butler are well-drawn and interesting. I can't say the plot itself made me do cartwheels but it was certainly workable and moved at a nice pace.
But does it compete with Harry Potter? No way! Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone is a work of art. It is both subtle and clever and the idea of introducing the main character (and, with him, the reader) slowly into the magical world is brilliant. We feel awe as Harry arrives, for the first time, at Diagon Alley, at Gringott's, and finally at Hogwarts, as he discovers the powers within him and the friends (and enemies) who surround him. The plot is intricate and scary and the weaving together of the magical and muggle worlds makes the book memorable.
I think Artemis Fowl is very good, no doubt, but you can tell all your friends, from me, that comparing Fowl to Potter is about as fair as comparing your local police officer with James Bond. Harry Potter wins out, easily and with an abundance of class!
Thank you for giving me the chance to contribute to the ongoing debate.
Sincerely,
Uncle Mark
Of Plane Trees and Beautiful Birds
12/05/10 20:40 Filed in: Birds
The main reason for making the trip back to Ontario was to work with my sister to arrange an appropriate memorial for our beloved mother with the Royal Botanical Gardens in Burlington. I'm pleased to say we have now arranged to have a lovely London Plane Tree planted near the Lilac Dell in the Arboretum in her memory, with an appropriate sign in front. It may take some time for the tree to be planted but, if you're in Burlington in the fall, please do take a walk in the Arboretum and look for it.
It started on the way to the Fredericton Airport, when we spotted a male bald eagle sitting proudly in a tree, gazing down on us as we passed on the Lincoln Road. Then, when my sister Lynn and I drove up to the Arboretum the next day, another male bald eagle soared above the entrance. After taking care of business, Lynn and I went for a walk on the path at Princess Point and saw a wide variety of birds, including goslings (see photo), swans, yellow warblers and a number of other species.
I'm not the most spiritual person in the world but I can't help but feel like it's no coincidence that, during this trip intended to memorialise my mother, most of her favourite bird species made an appearance. Their presence made a potentially melancholy task a joyous experience.
Back in Freddie
I'm just back from a week in Ontario where I took
care of some personal business and visited with
family and friends. It was a great trip, if a bit
emotional, and I'm afraid I didn't get the chance to
see everyone I had hoped to see. I did, however, get
a lot of reading done and delivered copies of the
second draft of my latest Phillip Gold novel, The
Silent Goodbye, to my next round of readers.
I'll be posting blogs on a number of topics over the next couple of days, including the three Dick Francis novels I read on my trip, Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer (a book recommended strongly to me by Emily and Clare, who even suggested that some of their friends feel Colfer's book is better than Harry Potter), birds I saw on the trip and even perhaps a commentary on the state of my garden here in Nota Bene. We've had a warm, wet spring and the jungle in my backyard is threatening to overwhelm us.
Right now, however, my energy is at a low ebb so I won't be blogging more tonight, just posting a promise new entries soon. Good night!
I'll be posting blogs on a number of topics over the next couple of days, including the three Dick Francis novels I read on my trip, Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer (a book recommended strongly to me by Emily and Clare, who even suggested that some of their friends feel Colfer's book is better than Harry Potter), birds I saw on the trip and even perhaps a commentary on the state of my garden here in Nota Bene. We've had a warm, wet spring and the jungle in my backyard is threatening to overwhelm us.
Right now, however, my energy is at a low ebb so I won't be blogging more tonight, just posting a promise new entries soon. Good night!