Tone

Most of the mail I get from D-news readers is friendly, but occasionally I do tick off people who respond by writing something nasty to me. The rare exception is that letter (or e-mail) I received the other day. A woman was concerned that I used the word "crap" in a column. She was distressed by my crude language and told me so. But she was very polite about it and offered both praise and encouragement along the way.

Now the honest truth is that I'll probably not stop using the word "crap" because I have liked that word ever since I discovered it in the fifth grade. But I genuinely appreciated the tone of the reader's e-mail and felt kindly disposed toward her and her posterity.

I had a fudge malt at Hires last night--probably the last I'll have in a while since it's supposed to be turning into winter tomorrow night. Bleh. Winter.

Another column I probably won't write

If you are experiencing any of the following symptoms . . .
1. weakness
2. dizziness
3. disorientation
4. numbness in hands and arms
5. profuse sweating (to the point where it appears you've been running through the sprinklers in your suit)
6. extreme clamminess
7. Drop in body temperature
8. Profound nausea

. . . PLEASE CALL 911 AND GET AN AMBULANCE instead of making your secretary call your wife who cannot run red lights with you strapped into the front seat. Even though she wants to.

Okay. Now that we have that out of the way, may I just say I am so very, very, very happy that after observing him closely for 1 1/2 days in the hospital, everyone there is pretty sure that my husband didn't have a heart attack. LDS hospital's staff is the greatest. Meanwhile, we are very grateful to family and friends who have been sending prayers and all best wishes our way.

Husband looks great, feels great, and is doing great. Not sure what caused the "incident" or "episode" (hospital talk), but right now he has a clean bill of health on the cardiac front and that's fabulous news.

The best thing about St. George . . .

. . . is that my girl Emma and her husband (Jason) and baby (Haley) live here. We met them for dinner at Cafe Rio and the pork taco, my friends, did NOT disappoint.

After seeing Emma and Jason, Ken and I gave the Miata a bath, then returned to the condo here to watch the first two episodes of LIFE ON MARS (the British edition). Mystery Girl recommended the series to me after I told her how much I loved the American version and WOW! Was she ever right! Smart, creepy, darkly funny, it's pretty much catnip.

Goin' south

My husband and I have decided to make a little impromptu trip to St. George tonight to stash his girlfriend (i.e. the green miata convertible) for the winter. This means the possibility of burgers from In n' Out looms on the horizon.

Had a conversation last night with writer friends about what we want. Fame? Money? And here's what we concluded. That someone wants to buy our next book. That there can even BE a next book. Far from being supremely confident beings, most of us semi-pro writers exist in a semi-fearful survival mode, I think.

Thanks for your input this week. Feel free to post more. I love hearing from you guys.

And oh btw it turns out I have a natural appitude for the air guitar. I nailed about a dozen songs on my first try yesterday.

If you don't want to get Alzheimer's . . .

Then you should eat blueberries and learn a new skill. That's what an article by Elaine Jarvik in the D-news the other day said. Which is why I have decided to take up the air guitar. I've been practicing riffs by the Black Keys all morning. Yes! I know! I'm amazing!

In other irrelevant news, I ate a steak salad at the Tin Angel for lunch. It wasn't as good as the life-changing steak salad I ate at the ESPN Zone this summer, but dude. A steak salad is a steak salad is a steak salad, and all of them make my life worth living.

Now onto the real business of the day. I appreciate your posts about boys and readings. Am looking for further enlightenment, so if you haven't contributed, please do. Meanwhile, I have another question. Am currently reading a collection called PARIS STORIES by Mavis Gallant, which I think a certain friend of mine would ADORE. But I hesitate giving it to her for this reason--do books as gifts feel like burdens? Or not?

I realize this is a strange question for a former bookseller to be asking, but it has occurred to me that when people give me books, I always feel obligated to read them and guilty when I don't. At the same time, I would have never read one of my favorite books--THE LOST GARDEN by Helen Humphreys--if Betsy hadn't given it to me one year for Christmas. So I am double-minded on the subject.

Your thoughts?

Boyz

Yes! I love spelling "boys" that way. It makes me feel so gangsta.

Anyway. I may have posted on a smiliar topic months ago, but I've forgotten if I did, and I hope you did, too. I'm speaking in a few weeks about "boys" and "books," and I'd appreciate any input you can give me by answering any of the questions that follow.

1. What books have the boys in your life liked (titles and ages would be helpful).
2. Why did/do your boys like those books?
3. What kind of books do your boys not like? Feel free to share dealbreakers here.
4. Why is the market for children and YA (this is a true stat) 80% female? In other words, why do girls appear to like reading more than boys?
5. Any tips for getting boys to read?

Thank you, readers. I love you.

This Week's Column

So, once again, this is Ann's fourth son providing a link to this week's column, since she hasn't decided to take 34 seconds and learn how to do it herself. Geeze, I wonder if people from her era are even able to do stuff like that on the computer. One of the world's great wonders...

A request for vous

Did you like the "vous" part? That's because I still have France-ness on the brain.

ANYWAY. Thanks all for reminding me that there are good movies and bad movies, just like there are good books and bad books.

So now here comes the request part--would you share a fave movie or two here on my blog-a-matic? There will be no judment on my part. How could there be judgment from someone who subscribes to (and faithfully reads!) STAR magazine?

BTW I did see 500 DAYS OF SUMMER and liked it a lot.

What I did a week ago on my way home from France

I watched a movie, which I rarely do these days, although there was a time (remember those days, Lisa B.?) when I could beat ANYBODY in the movie edition of Trivial Pursuit. I don't know what happened. I got ADHD and couldn't sit still for two hours. I got old. I stopped caring. Whatever. Anyway.

But since I was trapped thousands of feet above the ground, breathing recycled air and listening to strangers snore while I was eating peanuts, I thought what the hell. Might as well do SOMETHING. So I watched the film offering which was HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

And? It reminded me of why I stopped going to movies. It was lame, lame, lame. The women were all needy and the men were all dirtbags and really, who could even believe the Ginnifer Goodwin character FOR A SINGLE SECOND?

It's sad that I don't care for movies anymore, though. I hope this is not what getting older means--that the things you've loved stop giving you pleasure.

What Kerry said

Take a look at the third comment under my previous post. It comes from Miss Provo's sister, aka Kerry.

This brings up an interesting point for discussion. When should you tell as opposed to show when writing fiction?