I dreamed amazingly detailed, narrative-filled dreams during the past two nights…but that’s all I can remember of them. All plot is completely gone from my brain. I lived intense adventures! I want those back! I wish I could unlock all of my dream memories. I would have fodder for stories for the rest of my life.

Oylaloy, you silly internets, look what you’ve been up to:
I think this is the first time I’ve ever linked to a dog food commercial, but it’s worth it.
Swarms of pink bunnies tap dance on the line between creepy and cute.
Pleix Piu (whatever that is) flirts with the same line, I think. Aerodynamically impossible birds are watching you do your laundry!
DFTBA. Darling, fetch the battle axe, and don’t forget to be awesome.
Ok Go decided to do another music video to their song “This Too Shall Pass,” and it’s very nearly as cool as the first one.
NOOOOOOO!!!
Small lamb runs around house. Sounds like a yoga pose.
Birds playing the electric guitar as part of an art exhibit. (Why yes I have been spending time on cuteoverload.com. Don’t you dare judge me!)
The Power (and Peril) of Praising Your Kids. Fascinating!


Work is dead dead deader than a dead and decaying thing, which is bad in some ways and good in others. It’s very excellent for my book-devouring! Justice Hall persisted in being good but not great, sadly. I hit another dud with Mad Merlin by J. Robert King. “But Stephanie,” you say, “with a title like that, what were you expecting?” (At least, that’s what it sounded like you said. Really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.) Anyway, I kind of like giving Arthurian-based fiction a shot, just in case it’s awesome (and it sometimes is). This was not one of those times. The cover said the author was doing a brilliant retelling, weaving in the ideas of Joseph Campbell. Um. If by “weaving” you mean hauling out a generic myth and braining the reader over the head with it, sandwiched in between gore and slapstick silliness, then you’d be right. I suppose it wasn’t as bad as I’m making it out to be; it’s just that I’m protective of my myths, y’know? Treat them with respect and don’t trivialize them by shoddy portrayals, bent to your whim.

Er…so where was I. Oh yes! I read Iqbal by Francesco D’Adamo one day, which is a young adult novel about child workers in Pakistan. It was quite good, for what it was, and I wasn’t really familiar with that particular cause so it was interesting. Then I ate up Summer Morning, Summer Night by Ray Bradbury. Look, I know I gush about Bradbury in every other entry here, but seriously, his stories are exquisite. If you haven’t read any of his short stories, do yourself a favor and try some immediately. It doesn’t even matter what collection; they’re all great. Bradbury’s stories ARE the seasons. I can’t think of summer without thinking of Dandelion Wine, and I can’t think of fall without thinking of the autumn people in Something Wicked This Way Comes. I’m convinced that Bradbury lives inside of summer nine months out of the year; how else could he describe the feel of it so perfectly? No other writer is like him.

Right now I’m almost done with Taliesin by Stephen Lawhead, which is another vaguely Arthurian tale I’ve been meaning to give a go. It succeeds where Mad Merlin failed so spectacularly: Lawhead actually *does* weave mythology into the story seamlessly. However, he’s not so great with the characters. They feel rather…forgettable. In a year I’ll have forgotten their names, and in two years I won’t remember anything about them. He’s got the framework, he’s just not a detail man, maybe. I also wish he wouldn’t bring Christianity in quite so stridently. Yes yes, okay dear, we get the idea, but you’re not the next C.S. Lewis. (My my, I’m judgmental today, aren’t I?) Still, I’m enjoying the book, and I’ll probably check out the rest of his Pendragon cycle.

Speaking of reading, I read my baby book last weekend. Mom wrote down all those little things moms write down, I guess, and some of them were pretty cool. When I was three, I saw The Wizard of Oz and was absolutely nuts about it and wanted Dorothy to be my friend and come sing me a lullaby. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I need one of my favorite characters to come sing me to sleep some night.

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