This has been the craziest year for Christmas events. In the past weekend, we attended four parties, one of which I coordinated with my friend Melissa Healy, and we hosted the after-Mass fellowship. Further, in addition to the Christmas presents to our-of-towners, I sent out about 20 copies of Leaps of Faith and Infinite Space,Infinite God to contributors and reviewers--and the first royalty checks for ISIG! (Imagine splitting royalties 17 ways--it takes a while to build past pennies.)
At any rate, I have neither the time nor the inclination to decorate the outside of my house. I'd rather use that time to some much needed prayer and playing a game or watching TV with the kids. And maybe mopping my floor...
However, here are some folks with time and inclination. I love to watch these!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
On Tattoos and Good Taste
About twice a year, I hear from my godfather. "Hear" is a loose term; what I get is a copy of his tattoo directory. For 15 years now, he's made a business of publishing a catalog of tattoo parlors and piercing places across the US and the world. He often attends tattoo conventions, and as a former professional photographer, he takes photos.
Frankly, since I already suffer for art every time I get a rejection letter, I have no interest in enduring pain to put someone else's art on my body. However, as a writer, I have had characters get tattoos, from my nurse Sachiko who did it to explore her "wild side" to the nuns of Our Lady of the Rescue, who get wedding rings tattooed when they take final vows. Still, I find it hard to believe some of the "art" that people put on their bodies.
Let's talk basic good taste. There may actually be a place where skulls with large flowery eyes are an attractive decorating idea--but on your kneecaps? Chibi Golem in purple and red? Or what about colorful carp? On the buttocks? I'm telling you: your spouse had better have a sense of humor or your love life is toast--with a fishy spread. Then there was the woman with Our Lady of Guadalupe tattooed into the valley of her chest. I'm not sure the thinking process that goes behind having the Mother of God peeking out of your bra. Even worse, the artist did her with a man face.
On that topic--how about checking the actual talent of the artist? One guy had something tattooed to his eyebrow--I could not tell if it was an ice skate blade or a sideways kite. Do you really want someone's first impression of you to be "What the heck is that?" I saw one photo of a woman with an ugly nurse tattooed on her chest. Is her husband supposed to fantasize that he's having an affair with a disfigured Florence Nightingale?
I did see one that was tasteless, but funny at least: a large, orange Buddha tattooed on the guy's side. Buddhaside! At least, when the guy's belly gets bigger, so does Buddha's. Plan ahead, right?
The piercings can get even more bizarre. I saw one young woman who had eyelets inserted along her back so she could lace it up! Never mind how it looks--how do you ever lean against anything again? How do you sleep on your back?
There's a magazine that advertises in the catalog. It's called Pain. Talk about truth in advertising. Now if there were only one that was called, Pain with Good Taste...
Frankly, since I already suffer for art every time I get a rejection letter, I have no interest in enduring pain to put someone else's art on my body. However, as a writer, I have had characters get tattoos, from my nurse Sachiko who did it to explore her "wild side" to the nuns of Our Lady of the Rescue, who get wedding rings tattooed when they take final vows. Still, I find it hard to believe some of the "art" that people put on their bodies.
Let's talk basic good taste. There may actually be a place where skulls with large flowery eyes are an attractive decorating idea--but on your kneecaps? Chibi Golem in purple and red? Or what about colorful carp? On the buttocks? I'm telling you: your spouse had better have a sense of humor or your love life is toast--with a fishy spread. Then there was the woman with Our Lady of Guadalupe tattooed into the valley of her chest. I'm not sure the thinking process that goes behind having the Mother of God peeking out of your bra. Even worse, the artist did her with a man face.
On that topic--how about checking the actual talent of the artist? One guy had something tattooed to his eyebrow--I could not tell if it was an ice skate blade or a sideways kite. Do you really want someone's first impression of you to be "What the heck is that?" I saw one photo of a woman with an ugly nurse tattooed on her chest. Is her husband supposed to fantasize that he's having an affair with a disfigured Florence Nightingale?
I did see one that was tasteless, but funny at least: a large, orange Buddha tattooed on the guy's side. Buddhaside! At least, when the guy's belly gets bigger, so does Buddha's. Plan ahead, right?
The piercings can get even more bizarre. I saw one young woman who had eyelets inserted along her back so she could lace it up! Never mind how it looks--how do you ever lean against anything again? How do you sleep on your back?
There's a magazine that advertises in the catalog. It's called Pain. Talk about truth in advertising. Now if there were only one that was called, Pain with Good Taste...
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Wish Book
It was the most anticipated postal delivery of the year. Starting at the first of September, I would eagerly check the mail each day. "Has it come yet? Has it come yet?" Then would come that joyous day when I would come home and find it, the Wish Book. The Sears Christmas Catalog. I'd grab it, run to the sofa in the living room and snuggle down happily to look at the treasures within. Forget the clothes, the linens and fine china. Ignore the jewelry and electronics. I went straight for the back-- the TOY section.
I'd start at the back cover and work my way through the catalog in reverse order. The dolls were always at the very back and that was the first order of business. I had to look at all the dolls and decide which one was going on my Christmas list. This was a serious decision. I had to look at the pictures, read the descriptions, and compare notes with my sisters because we couldn't ask for the same doll. I would argue the merits of the various possibilities with my friends. "Not Betsy Wetsy!" I would say. "Her body is hard and the liquid goes right through her. I'm asking for Thumbelina! Her body is soft and she moves her arms and legs when you pull the string."
I also had to keep in mind the rules from my parents. My mom thought that dolls that "did things" deprived me of the opportunity to use my imagination, so when my friends were oohing and ahing over Baby Tender Love, I'd pull the string on my Thumbelina doll and say dismissively-- "I wouldn't want a doll that does too much! Baby Tender Love doesn't leave anything for me to do." Secretly, I would have died for a talking doll, but Mom wouldn't go for it. There was one year when my sister told me that Mom was actually thinking of buying a talking doll because she had seen it in the catalog and liked the looks of it. Alas, it was not to be. When Mom took a closer look at it, she found it had a cloth body and for some reason she didn't like that.
It was the most important decision of the year because whatever doll I got for Christmas would be the doll that I would play with for the entire year to come, so I had better choose wisely. I would love to have had a boy doll because I didn't want my doll family to be all girls, but alas, I was much too old for dolls when Archie Bunker's grandson doll was released in the mid 70's. However, never one to lack imagination (thanks to my mother's refusal to buy me a Baby Tender Love) I had some stuffed animals with tails and those worked fine for the little boys of the family. The tails made a dandy "anatomically correct" appendage, if you ignored the fact that
it was in the back instead of the front.
When I was 7, my mother made up for everything by allowing me to ask for Cheerful Tearful on my letter to Santa. Cheerful was a hard-body baby doll that CRIED REAL TEARS, wet her diaper, smiled and whimpered. Of course, she only smiled when her arm was held up high in the world but I didn't care. I wanted her so badly I had dreams about her. Sara (as I renamed her because what self respecting doll mother is going to call one of her babies "Cheerful Tearful?") was always just out of my reach, but on Christmas morning, there she was.
The next year Sears had a completely new offering, beautiful fashion dolls by Furja of Italy. I fell in love with Simona, a platinum blonde with a beauty mark on her face that I tried to scrape off, thinking it was a speck of dirt. My mother made a complete wardrobe for her, and Simona became my favorite doll. I still have her, tucked in a corner of my closet. I thought my daughters might want her one day, but neither of them really played much with the larger-sized dolls. My older daughter most played with her Barbie dolls and my younger daughter played with her plush animals and My Little Pony dolls.
When I was 9, I went the fashion doll route again, although I didn't want the doll I asked for, another platinum blonde named Christina. It was my sister who wanted her, but at 13, she was considered too old for dolls, so I asked for her as a favor to my sister. I never really cared for Christina-- she was bigger than Simona so I cast her in the role of the mean, fat, ugly sister with Simona being the noble, brave, beautiful abused child who took care of Sara and the other babies.
I took a break when I was 10, because I desperately wanted a watch. My mother gave me a choice-- a watch or a doll-- and I went for the watch, but at age 11, for my final doll I went for the only non-blonde doll I ever received: Beautiful Crissy with hair that actually grows. Yes, surprisingly, my mother once again broke her rule about gimmicky dolls and allowed me to get one that actually DID something.
Crissy fit in well with my doll family-- she was the rich relative who befriended Simona and tried to help her. Christina was still the outcast as I just never did like her. I know I still have the Christina doll, and I had the Crissy doll for a long time but I don't think I do anymore.
When I go through the toy stores now, I am pleased to see that a substantial portion of shelf space is still given over to dolls. Barbie dolls and baby dolls, action figures and gimmicky dolls. Many of the dolls I grew up with have been re-released- I've seen cheerful Tearful and Crissy come around in various incarnations a few times and I've also seen several variations of Thumbelina. I've even heard that Sears is thinking of bringing back the Wish Book in a somewhat abbreviated form. I hope they do because the kids of today need all the help they can get in writing their Christmas lists!
I'd start at the back cover and work my way through the catalog in reverse order. The dolls were always at the very back and that was the first order of business. I had to look at all the dolls and decide which one was going on my Christmas list. This was a serious decision. I had to look at the pictures, read the descriptions, and compare notes with my sisters because we couldn't ask for the same doll. I would argue the merits of the various possibilities with my friends. "Not Betsy Wetsy!" I would say. "Her body is hard and the liquid goes right through her. I'm asking for Thumbelina! Her body is soft and she moves her arms and legs when you pull the string."
I also had to keep in mind the rules from my parents. My mom thought that dolls that "did things" deprived me of the opportunity to use my imagination, so when my friends were oohing and ahing over Baby Tender Love, I'd pull the string on my Thumbelina doll and say dismissively-- "I wouldn't want a doll that does too much! Baby Tender Love doesn't leave anything for me to do." Secretly, I would have died for a talking doll, but Mom wouldn't go for it. There was one year when my sister told me that Mom was actually thinking of buying a talking doll because she had seen it in the catalog and liked the looks of it. Alas, it was not to be. When Mom took a closer look at it, she found it had a cloth body and for some reason she didn't like that.It was the most important decision of the year because whatever doll I got for Christmas would be the doll that I would play with for the entire year to come, so I had better choose wisely. I would love to have had a boy doll because I didn't want my doll family to be all girls, but alas, I was much too old for dolls when Archie Bunker's grandson doll was released in the mid 70's. However, never one to lack imagination (thanks to my mother's refusal to buy me a Baby Tender Love) I had some stuffed animals with tails and those worked fine for the little boys of the family. The tails made a dandy "anatomically correct" appendage, if you ignored the fact that
it was in the back instead of the front.When I was 7, my mother made up for everything by allowing me to ask for Cheerful Tearful on my letter to Santa. Cheerful was a hard-body baby doll that CRIED REAL TEARS, wet her diaper, smiled and whimpered. Of course, she only smiled when her arm was held up high in the world but I didn't care. I wanted her so badly I had dreams about her. Sara (as I renamed her because what self respecting doll mother is going to call one of her babies "Cheerful Tearful?") was always just out of my reach, but on Christmas morning, there she was.
The next year Sears had a completely new offering, beautiful fashion dolls by Furja of Italy. I fell in love with Simona, a platinum blonde with a beauty mark on her face that I tried to scrape off, thinking it was a speck of dirt. My mother made a complete wardrobe for her, and Simona became my favorite doll. I still have her, tucked in a corner of my closet. I thought my daughters might want her one day, but neither of them really played much with the larger-sized dolls. My older daughter most played with her Barbie dolls and my younger daughter played with her plush animals and My Little Pony dolls.When I was 9, I went the fashion doll route again, although I didn't want the doll I asked for, another platinum blonde named Christina. It was my sister who wanted her, but at 13, she was considered too old for dolls, so I asked for her as a favor to my sister. I never really cared for Christina-- she was bigger than Simona so I cast her in the role of the mean, fat, ugly sister with Simona being the noble, brave, beautiful abused child who took care of Sara and the other babies.
I took a break when I was 10, because I desperately wanted a watch. My mother gave me a choice-- a watch or a doll-- and I went for the watch, but at age 11, for my final doll I went for the only non-blonde doll I ever received: Beautiful Crissy with hair that actually grows. Yes, surprisingly, my mother once again broke her rule about gimmicky dolls and allowed me to get one that actually DID something.
Crissy fit in well with my doll family-- she was the rich relative who befriended Simona and tried to help her. Christina was still the outcast as I just never did like her. I know I still have the Christina doll, and I had the Crissy doll for a long time but I don't think I do anymore.When I go through the toy stores now, I am pleased to see that a substantial portion of shelf space is still given over to dolls. Barbie dolls and baby dolls, action figures and gimmicky dolls. Many of the dolls I grew up with have been re-released- I've seen cheerful Tearful and Crissy come around in various incarnations a few times and I've also seen several variations of Thumbelina. I've even heard that Sears is thinking of bringing back the Wish Book in a somewhat abbreviated form. I hope they do because the kids of today need all the help they can get in writing their Christmas lists!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Like fantasy, mystery and humor? Have I got an offer for you!
Hi, everyone,
I'm doing a special deal on my DragonEye, PI website in anticipation of the first novels coming out in 2009. If you register on the website before December 1, you will get a free DragonEye, PI story, plus a special offer on "Christmas Spirits," a DragonEye, PI holiday mystery.
What's DragonEye, PI? It's fantasy mystery in a noir style starring a cynical dragon detective, Vern, and his partner the Church mage Sister Grace. Mysteries solved. Lost treasures found. Universes saves...you get the picture. Their cases range from the deadly serious to the wildly ridiculous, sometimes at the same time, and Vern's unique POV makes it fun to read. (Think Dresden Files meets Myth Adventures.)
In addition, you'll be subscribed to the Dragon's Eye View, an every-other-month newsletter with Faerie Facts, a note from Vern the Dragon Detective, and news on upcoming publishing and story deals from Karina Fabian.
It's easy to do! Just go to www.dragoneyepi.net and register (look under the blindfolded smiley or where it says REGISTER on the top center column. Follow the directions, and you're in!
Blessings,
Karina Fabian
I'm doing a special deal on my DragonEye, PI website in anticipation of the first novels coming out in 2009. If you register on the website before December 1, you will get a free DragonEye, PI story, plus a special offer on "Christmas Spirits," a DragonEye, PI holiday mystery.
What's DragonEye, PI? It's fantasy mystery in a noir style starring a cynical dragon detective, Vern, and his partner the Church mage Sister Grace. Mysteries solved. Lost treasures found. Universes saves...you get the picture. Their cases range from the deadly serious to the wildly ridiculous, sometimes at the same time, and Vern's unique POV makes it fun to read. (Think Dresden Files meets Myth Adventures.)
In addition, you'll be subscribed to the Dragon's Eye View, an every-other-month newsletter with Faerie Facts, a note from Vern the Dragon Detective, and news on upcoming publishing and story deals from Karina Fabian.
It's easy to do! Just go to www.dragoneyepi.net and register (look under the blindfolded smiley or where it says REGISTER on the top center column. Follow the directions, and you're in!
Blessings,
Karina Fabian
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Unleash Your Story for Cystic Fibrosis Foundation
I’m participating in an event to benefit the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. Please join me and help raise funds for investment in vital CF programs to support research, care and education. During the month of September, I commit to writing 15,000 words and I'm hoping to raise at least $150 for CFF. Cystic fibrosis (CF) is a devastating genetic disease that affects the lungs and digestive system. More than ten million Americans are symptomless carriers of the defective CF gene. Advances continue to be made in finding a cure, but your help is needed now-more than ever-to help keep up the momentum of this life-saving research. To learn more about CF and the CF Foundation, visit www.cff.org. Together, we can make a difference in the lives of those with cystic fibrosis. Thank you for supporting the mission of the CF Foundation!
| |||
| Thanks to everyone for your support! | |||
| Click Here to donate. In other news, both of my non-fiction booklets, Made Up Mayhem and Adapting Your Novel for Film have released. Stop by my website for details! Perilously yours, Pauline |
Monday, July 28, 2008
What I Did on My Summer Vacation
I earned serious cool points while on vacation with my 23-year-old daughter this year. She and I went to Roswell, NM, for the annual UFO Festival, which we went to under the misconception that everyone should attend it once in their lives. After having been there, let me clear this up for anyone who still labors under this misconception-- unless you REALLY believe in UFO's and alien visitations, and I do mean REALLY believe in them, you don't need to go to Roswell.
After the festival was over, Jaala and I decided to drive out to the landing site. The only thing is, there are at least 11 alleged landing sites for the Roswell UFO crash. We picked the one that seemed to be the closest. Getting there involved driving for an hour on this back country road and then going off road. The directions were absolutely awful-- Jaala and I were constantly confused as to whether that rock up ahead was the one mentioned in the directions or whether that tree was really the one we were supposed to see at this particular odometer reading.
However, the real key thing here is that we were off road. I had rented an SUV for our trip so no worries, right? How was I to know that some SUV's don't have 4-wheel drive? Now I've been on some awful roads before, but this was by far the most awful road I have been on in my life. I had to drive around (and sometimes over) boulders, holes and saplings. It was also dark, and we were out in the middle of nowhere-- no wonder the aliens picked that place to crash. I'm just amazed that anyone ever noticed them!
I was driving along at about 1 mph, swearing with just about every other word that came out of my mouth when suddenly my world tipped. My side of the car was up in the air and I was looking down at Jaala's half of the car. Our tires were all still touching the earth-- I think-- but we weren't on the same plane.
I didn't move anything. My mind raced furiously as I tried to figure out what to do. If I went forward, I was doubtless going to flip the car. I decided that would not be a good thing. There was nothing else to do so I very slowly switched the car into Reverse and slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly, crept backward until I couldn't go any further. Then back into forward, turning the wheel sharply to avoid the escarpment I had just been hung up on. Backwards and forwards I rocked the car until we were level. However now we had a new problem-- we were stuck. I'd backed us right into a ditch. So I floored it, and we roared out of the ditch and back onto the pitiful excuse for a road. Then I stopped, and for a good 5 minutes Jaala and I just sat there and heaved gulping sighs of relief.
Later, when we were back home safe and sound, we told my husband about our trip. "It was the coolest!" Jaala enthused. "We went off road to find the crash site, and we nearly flipped the SUV!" Bill looked at me, "You what?!!!!" "Not really, dear," I tried to say but Jaala went on. "If you'd been with us we'd never have done that! You'd never have taken us off road like that!" "That's because I have more sense than your mother,"Bill muttered, looking at me darkly.
On the way back from New Mexico, Jaala and I laughed many times about how we had nearly flipped the SUV. From there, our conversation went on to memories of other trips-- the time the girls and I went camping at Big Bend and got caught in a dust storm and then had to drive 50 miles up a steep, unpaved hill while the canoe tied to the roof of our van threatened to fly off into the gorge to the left of us at any second. Or the time on the same trip when Jaala's best friend who was with us scared her with tales of an axe murderer hiding in the back of the van, causing me to threaten to leave him on the side of the road. Or the trip to Illinois when my husband spilled orange juice all over the breakfast table. Or the trip to Dublin when we had a tour guide who hated Bill just because Bill was from Texas, which was the same place George Bush was from. Somehow it escaped this tour guide that the girls and I were also from Texas because he was unfailingly gracious, charming and polite to us while at the same time he was so blatantly rude to Bill that Bill nearly refused to go on the next day's tour with him.
Family vacations are a wonderful way to broaden children's horizons and expose them to history, geography and other cultures, but when it comes right down to it, I think the most important benefit of family vacations is the way they bring the members of the family together. My memories of the trips Bill and I took with the girls are not of the wonderful places we saw but of the things that made us laugh. Long after Jaala and I have forgotten what the UFO landing site in Roswell looked at, we will be able to laugh about how we nearly flipped the SUV. And Jaala will always remember that, on that trip at least, her mom was the coolest mom in the world.
After the festival was over, Jaala and I decided to drive out to the landing site. The only thing is, there are at least 11 alleged landing sites for the Roswell UFO crash. We picked the one that seemed to be the closest. Getting there involved driving for an hour on this back country road and then going off road. The directions were absolutely awful-- Jaala and I were constantly confused as to whether that rock up ahead was the one mentioned in the directions or whether that tree was really the one we were supposed to see at this particular odometer reading.
However, the real key thing here is that we were off road. I had rented an SUV for our trip so no worries, right? How was I to know that some SUV's don't have 4-wheel drive? Now I've been on some awful roads before, but this was by far the most awful road I have been on in my life. I had to drive around (and sometimes over) boulders, holes and saplings. It was also dark, and we were out in the middle of nowhere-- no wonder the aliens picked that place to crash. I'm just amazed that anyone ever noticed them!
I was driving along at about 1 mph, swearing with just about every other word that came out of my mouth when suddenly my world tipped. My side of the car was up in the air and I was looking down at Jaala's half of the car. Our tires were all still touching the earth-- I think-- but we weren't on the same plane.
I didn't move anything. My mind raced furiously as I tried to figure out what to do. If I went forward, I was doubtless going to flip the car. I decided that would not be a good thing. There was nothing else to do so I very slowly switched the car into Reverse and slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly, crept backward until I couldn't go any further. Then back into forward, turning the wheel sharply to avoid the escarpment I had just been hung up on. Backwards and forwards I rocked the car until we were level. However now we had a new problem-- we were stuck. I'd backed us right into a ditch. So I floored it, and we roared out of the ditch and back onto the pitiful excuse for a road. Then I stopped, and for a good 5 minutes Jaala and I just sat there and heaved gulping sighs of relief.
Later, when we were back home safe and sound, we told my husband about our trip. "It was the coolest!" Jaala enthused. "We went off road to find the crash site, and we nearly flipped the SUV!" Bill looked at me, "You what?!!!!" "Not really, dear," I tried to say but Jaala went on. "If you'd been with us we'd never have done that! You'd never have taken us off road like that!" "That's because I have more sense than your mother,"Bill muttered, looking at me darkly.
On the way back from New Mexico, Jaala and I laughed many times about how we had nearly flipped the SUV. From there, our conversation went on to memories of other trips-- the time the girls and I went camping at Big Bend and got caught in a dust storm and then had to drive 50 miles up a steep, unpaved hill while the canoe tied to the roof of our van threatened to fly off into the gorge to the left of us at any second. Or the time on the same trip when Jaala's best friend who was with us scared her with tales of an axe murderer hiding in the back of the van, causing me to threaten to leave him on the side of the road. Or the trip to Illinois when my husband spilled orange juice all over the breakfast table. Or the trip to Dublin when we had a tour guide who hated Bill just because Bill was from Texas, which was the same place George Bush was from. Somehow it escaped this tour guide that the girls and I were also from Texas because he was unfailingly gracious, charming and polite to us while at the same time he was so blatantly rude to Bill that Bill nearly refused to go on the next day's tour with him.
Family vacations are a wonderful way to broaden children's horizons and expose them to history, geography and other cultures, but when it comes right down to it, I think the most important benefit of family vacations is the way they bring the members of the family together. My memories of the trips Bill and I took with the girls are not of the wonderful places we saw but of the things that made us laugh. Long after Jaala and I have forgotten what the UFO landing site in Roswell looked at, we will be able to laugh about how we nearly flipped the SUV. And Jaala will always remember that, on that trip at least, her mom was the coolest mom in the world.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Thank You Troops and their Families
Since the July topic hasn't posted yet, let me
take a moment to thank the men and women who defend and protect our liberty. And I'd also like to thank their families, who sacrifice so very much!
THANK YOU!!!
Perilously yours,
Pauline
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