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Attention Jacqui's Room reader(s):

I need your help finding something: July.

Like the whole month. I lost mine, apparently, because it's almost over and I can't remember what I did with it.

I mean, from the looks of this blog, you'd think I hadn't posted in two week, when in fact, I have been posting brilliant and hilarious items TWICE DAILY.*

I looked in my bag of marbles and it turns out most of them are lost too.

It's a household wide problem. Yesterday, I listened to Tink and Destructo have an extended argument entitled "Uno: are we or are we not playing with a full deck?"

In other news, I heard an all too familiar thumping and scratching sound in my attic this weekend.** Is it possible a new generation of flightless pigeons is out to get me?! Did they not read this blog last spring? Or do I now, in addition to everything else, literally have bats in my belfry? I will keep you updated.

* In my head.
** No joke. All three of these things actually happened this week. This is my life.
*** Photo from 826michigan's Liberty Street Robot Supply and Repair Store website. You can buy loose screws there, if you don't have enough already.

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RJinx once rescued me from the Titanic.  True story.

Faceboook, 7:30AM: I have 15 hours stretching ahead of me that require strenuous physical activity, mind-numbing patience, and an endless supply of energy and positive attitude. It's going to be tough, but I can do it. (Right?) Feel free to contribute support, jokes, funny comments, and/or tequila.
                RJinx: Hey, you must be a parent. ;-)
                Look at it like surfing.
                Just ride the wave.
                If you fight against it you will drown yourself
                and keep yourself from getting where you need/want to be.
                If you just ride the wavy and
                let its energy guide you, you will reach the shore....
                namaste, grasshopper.
       

8:50 AM: Pick up Bluejay, a 10-yr-old student who is not my biological child.
8:54 AM: See cop lights flashing quietly behind me.
                ME: Good morning, officer.
                Nice, slightly hot OFFICER: I pulled you over for speeding back there. Um, did you know you were going 53 in a 40 zone? Do you have any reason to need to go that fast?
                ME: Um,  no good reason.
                OFFICER: Well, I'm going to let you off but I will need to see your license, insurance and registration.
                ME: Of course, of course. (rummaging in the Car That Vommited VBS Supplies) Um, I'm afraid I can't find my registration.
                OFFICER: Okay, well, sit tight, let me check this out.
                (minutes pass)
                OFFICER: Well, it seems as though your insurance card isn't current. See here? It says expires 2009.
                ME: Oh, well, that's just the card. The insurance is current.
                OFFICER: Thing is, I do have to give you a ticket for that.
                ME: Of course, I understand.
               (minutes pass)
               OFFICER: Did you realize your driver's license is expir

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We hear all the time about the benefits of reading to your children. The book-loving, library-using establishment wants you to think it's all fun and games. It's NOT. I know from ACTUAL EXPERIENCE. Here are just a few of the possible, disastrous consequences reading to your children, or, indeed, letting them read to themselves, can have on your health and the health of your children.

1. Children may decide it is hilarious, every time they hear the sound of fingers snapping, to strip down to their underwear, don their shirts as capes, and run around wherever you are screaming, "Tra la la!"

2. Children may ponder ingesting worms, fried or otherwise.

3. Head wounds may result from repeatedly opening the doors to and trying to fit inside of a cabinet that resembles a wardrobe.

4. You will be spied upon. And your actions will be recorded in a notebook. Depending on whether the perpetrator is Harriet or Nancy, such records may contain an overabundance of exclamation points.

5. Sever brain atrophy is a definite possibility.

6. Certain books may carry multiple deleterious consequences.

7. Your child may demand, in public, that you outline the geneology of the line of gods and half-gods descended from Cronos. Without Wikipedia.

8. Your child may threaten to punch you in the head.*

9. Child may demand a pet prairie dog.

10. Your child may learn that there are people who are different from her, that sometimes women fall in love with other women, and that the world is not the black and white moral checkerboard she has been led to believe. Also, what a scrotum is.

There is only one solution: ban them all. Ban them all, I say, and let kids engage in safe things like skateboarding and their 1,680 minutes (average) TV watching a week.

Bonus points if you know what books caused all of the above in my children...

* Sorry. So very, very sorry.

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It was on this day, seventy-eight years ago, that Amelia Earhart flew solo across the Atlantic Ocean. She was only the second person, and the first woman, to do so.

Here is what I wonder:

Did Amelia Earhart, when the idea first struck her, think, "Oh, but that would be so much work!" and "I could never..." and "But nobody has..."?

When she sat there in Newfoundland, everything packed, about to take off, did she look out at the darkening sky and think, "What am I doing?!" Did her throat close in panic? Did she sweat?

Did she wish for a moment that she were at home with a cup of tea and a fantasy, instead of belted into a steel trap with a plan to defy logic and gravity and social convention?

Then, when gasoline leaked into her cockpit, when her plane suddenly dropped 10,000 feet, when fire shot out her exhaust pipe and the altimeter and the steering and EVERYTHING broke, did Amelia Earhart cry? Did she think, "I can't do this!" and want to curl up or collapse or call for Superman?

And if she did, if it turns out she wasn't as confident or as fearless or as much like "Amelia Earhart" as we think she was, if Amelia Earhart cried,

Then what does that say to the rest of us?

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From SPACE.com:

Chile Earthquake May Have Shortened Days on Earth

Apparently, the recent earthquake in Chile actually moved the Earth's mass vertically, changing our rotation and shortening the length of a day by 1.26 milliseconds.

Unfortunately, scientists report the quake had no measurable effects on the length of my daily to do list.

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I had so many things to tell you while I was in Argentina. Turns out I CAN go ten days with no internet, no cell phone, no email, and no day care. What I CANNOT do is stop thinking of things about which to write. But, one of my new year's resolutions is to live in the present, so I'm not going to try to recapture the inspiration. Here's what you missed:

1. If You're Gonna Have Family Drama, There Might As Well Be Actual Wild Monkeys Around

2. The Power of Words: A lengthy discussion of how we trick ourselves into thinking the word we use for thing are somehow infused with the essence of that thing so that someone who does not speak our language at all should somehow understand anyway if we just say the word loudly and expressively enough. Punctuated by examples from Tinkerbell and others and involving a joke about monkey bars.

3. Dear Guaraní People, So Sorry Your New Year's Day Purifying Dip in the Iguazú Falls Was Ruined By the Shrieks of My Son And If You Find the Piece of My Husband's Chin That He Bit Off, That's Okay, You Can Keep It.

4. Dulce de Leche, Nectar of the Gods. Includes references to Proust and the parallels between his experience with the madeleines and my tasting this caramel-like goodness for the first time since childhood. Also: elaborate fantasy involving dulce de leche crepes.

5. Why You Can Never Check Anything Off Your Parental To Do List/The Un-Power of Words. In which I have to explain the concept of death the Destructo for the fourth time in two months because he has heard that "going to find Grandpa's dada's grave" as "going to find Grandpa's dada and bring him home with us." And other deep thoughts on family history, childhood, the random migration of people and families, and Brooklyn.

And, my favorite,

6. What Will Happen If Immigration Thinks You Are Accidentally Smuggling Diseased Horse Poop Into the U.S.

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I love me a good snow day. We didn't get more than an inch here in Michigan, but it's still lovely.

In New York City, where you'd think people would be maximally cynical about the magic of a ton of snow, instead, there's this.

That made my day. Points to NYC.

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It's December! Which means one thing.

Well, yeah, it means I have to do all those things I blew off because November was so busy. But that's not what I mean.

Well, yeah, it means Michigan winter is here and Destructo's teachers are strongly suggesting he bring "proper winter attire," which apparently does not mean a sweatshirt, some old cowboy boots of his sisters and a foam tiara. But that's not what I mean either.

Well, yeah, it means the already glacially slow publishing world grinds to a frozen and frustrating halt. But who wants to think about that?!

Because it's December. And that means snow and frost and holidays that are all about lighting sparkly lights and singing songs and presents. And top ten lists and best book of the year lists and auld lang syne and, well, hurrah hurrah hurrah!

Stick around. I've decided it: December is going to rock.

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Apparently, according to YahooNews, researchers seeking the best possible place to locate a space observatory have pinpointed the coldest, driest, calmest place on Earth. Ridge A, 13, 297 feet up on the Antarctic Plateau, averages temperatures of minus 94˚F. But it's dry cold, and it boasts "very little atmospheric turbulence." As a bonus, no human has ever set foot there.

In related news, scientists have also pinpointed the warmest, moistest, least calm place on Earth and it is my son at bedtime.

Needless to say, I am dreaming of a weekend trip to Ridge A.

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...and while not necessarily better than ever, I am definitely better than before a week at the beach.

Highlights have to include hours of swimming in the ocean and daily ice cream. I did catch Tinkerbell demanding money back from the hotel manager because our room was haunted and, failing a refund, offering her services as child detective to solve the mystery. Which I love, of course.

But the best part may have finding Edgartown Books, my new favorite bookstore. Why are they my favorite? Well, look what Captain Destructo found while trolling the picture book shelves!

Okay, really I took this picture later, after I'd shrieked with glee and gone to the register to introduce myself and offer to sign them. The folks there were incredibly nice, even let Tink put the "autographed copy" stickers on, and congratulated me on not being an author who annoys booksellers. Which felt good, of course.


And now it turns out things were Going On while I was gone. Wanna see what I look like? Lee Wind (with whom I fell in heart at SCBWI this month) posted a video of me talking about my Jacqui Reads her Children Books Other People Think Are Bad For Them experience with The Rabbits' Wedding. While you are there, you should read the rest of his blog which is wonderful and good for the world. Meanwhile, Banned Books Week is September 26 - October 3 this year and "Jacqui Reads Her Children Books Other People Think Are Bad For Them, Part 2!" will kick off the first of September with my favorite challenged book ever -- my own! Yes, apparently it is very dangerous to read your kids The New Girl...And Me. I'll explain on the first.

And Ann Finkelstein nominated Jacqui's Room for the Kreativ Blogger award. Ann wrote:

The entire world should enjoy life as much as Jacqui Robbins.

Which makes me happy because I think it means I made someone smile. And also because I can't be nearly as ranty and grumpy as I feel half the time. So thank you, Ann! I know I have homework to do with this honor too, but my "to blog" list is miles long, so is it weak to give a rain check???

It's good to be back.

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10. Live mannequin
9. Jockey*
8. Dog walker**
7. Leader of Twebinars
6. the lady behind the counter at Dunkin' Donuts***
5. Minister of Magic, or other "everything that goes wrong is my problem" political figure
4. Make-up artist
3. Baby fur seal clubber
2. One of those monks who takes vow of silence****
1. Asterisk Minimalist

* Reference the whole "hates horses, almost six feet tall" thing.
** My one and only dog walking effort ended when the Siberian Husky I was walking (my grandma's) got barked at by a Rottweiler. I hucked the handful of Lucky Charms I was holding at the dogs, dropped the leash, and ran, leaving my 8 year-old cousin behind.
*** "Um, Mr. Donut chef? I'm sorry. We're all out of glazed. Yes, again. No, there's nothing on my chin. No, that's not sugar on my shirt. Just make some more, okay? Don't make me get all 450 pounds of me off this stool and sit on you."
**** "Psst! Brother Franklin! Are we really supposed -- Oh. We are? All the time? Okay. Psst! That reminds me of a story..."

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I've been continuing to think about undiscovered gyrl.  My comparison of Burnett to Salinger was less than specific.  I meant to say that I think that Burnett's undiscovered gyrl will elicit responses similar to those of Salinger's Catcher in the Rye.

Still, I'm amazed at how many of the reviewers of undiscovered gyrl still think the story is actually about Katie.  Imagine my surprise, as I researched for the Shadowed Summer review, that Saundra Mitchell was key in cracking open the Kaycee Nicole hoax.  How much more do we adore Mitchell - and question Burnett - now?

Linkspam For Writers

• Chris plays with the concept of "just this once." 
• Patrick offers an example query.  About pumpkins.
• Also: Queries for Dummies from my girly Sex Scenes at Starbucks.
• I Heart Monster lists the words being added to the dictionary.  Frenemy? Really?
• This is why beth is a real writer and I'm a wannabe-author-blogger.
  

Linkspam For Readers

• stargirlreads has a new blog: Not Your Typical Book Girl.  Guest Appearance by Buzz Lightyear.
  

• Win these books:

Classifieds
I'm having issues with my blog redesign.  I decided to hire someone to help, but the only people I'm finding are uber-experienced professionals who charge an arm & a leg.  If CSS and XML don't scare you, and you have a little design background, would you email me?  Or make a referral?  aerinblogs AT aol DOT com  Thanks!!

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I've never been a particularly patriotic, especially since I realized (sometime in my late teens) that the United States is one of the countries that still bestows the death penalty.  I'm aware of the great things about my country and of the (many) skeletons in our closet.  With the election of Barack Obama, I find myself hopeful that the United States reclaims its potential.

On Wednesday night, at the Celtic Woman concert, there were two songs about the United States.  All I could find online were fan-videos taken live, but you should still watch (at least) the first one.  (The second one is pretty but the lyrics are...repetitive, which reminds me a little too much of wartime propaganda.)

Happy Independence Day!



The song "Isle of Hope" is about Ellis Island, in New York Harbour, where Irish Immigrants and others were processed.
image from http://bhuvi.sweetcircles.com/
The first Immigrant to be processed there was Annie Moore, from County Cork.
She arrived with her brothers on 1/1/1892, her fifteenth birthday.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annie_Moore

The statue of Annie and her brothers in Cobh, Cork:


Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears
Lyrics By : Brendan Graham


On the first day on January,
Eighteen ninety-two,
They opened Ellis Island and they let
The people through.
And the first to cross that threshold
Of that isle of hope and tears,
Was Annie Moore from Ireland
Was all of fifteen years.

CHORUS:
Isle of hope, isle of tears,
Isle of freedom, isle of fears,
But it's not the isle you left behind.
That isle of hunger, isle of pain,
Isle you'll never see again
But the isle of home is always on your mind.

In her little bag she carried
All her past and history,
And her dreams for the future
In the land of liberty.
And courage is the passport
When your old world disappears
But there's no future in the past
When you're fifteen years

Chorus

When they closed down Ellis Island
In nineteen forty-three,
Seventeen million people
Had come there for sanctuary.
And in Springtime when I came here
And I stepped onto its piers,
I thought of how it must have been
When you're fifteen years.

Chorus






O, America
Music: William Joseph
Words: Brendan Graham

O, America you’re calling,
I can hear you calling me:
You are calling me to be true to thee,
True to thee… I will be.

O, America no weeping,
Let me heal your wounded heart:
I will keep you in my keeping,
Till there be… a new start.

And I will answer you, and I will take your hand,
And lead you… to the sun:
And I will stand by you…do all that I can do,
And we will be… as one.

O, America I hear you,
From your prairies to the sea,
From your mountains grand, and all through this land,
You are beautiful to me.

And… O, America you’re calling,
I can hear you calling me:
You are calling me to be true to thee,
True to thee… I will be.

And I will answer you, and I will take your hand,
And lead you… to the sun:
And I will stand by you… do all that I can do,
And we will be…as one.

O, America you’re calling…
I will ever answer thee.

O, America! by Brendan Graham and William Joseph (C) 2008 by Peermusic (UK) Ltd. (PRS), Songs of Peer, Ltd.(ASCAP) and Paybill Publishing (ASCAP) All Rights on behalf of Peermusic (UK) Ltd. Controlled and Administered by Peermusic III, Ltd.(BMI). All Rights of behalf of Paybill Publishing Controlled and Administered by Songs of Peer, Ltd. All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.

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For those of you who don't follow me on Twitter (hey, why don't you?), you might not know that I have strep.  Again.  Second time in four weeks.  The Bug had it twice within a month, too, and Mr. Aerin had it worst of all, but only once.  The Bear's the only one who hadn't had strep, but Mr. Aerin dragged him to the pediatrician anyway.  Said the doctor: "Fastest positive I've ever seen."  In other words, the Bear has had strep for at least a month.  His heart is okay, thank goodness, but not only do I feel like crap, I feel like a crappy mom.

Mommies don't get a break (even when their spouses think they're giving the sick wifeys a break, they're still letting dishes pile up and kids jump into bed with the sleeping sicky).  Still, I think the worst part of being sick is that my brain gets fuzzy.  I can't read because reading gives me a headache; I can't write because the muse tends to get her uber-bitch on.

So.  I'm trying to catch up, which means pointing out to you some places and people I think you might like.  Or, as bethie (I nicknamed her bethie, poor thing) would say, linkspam!

• Inkygirl, aka Debbie Ridpath Ohi, has been running a fantastic series of posts about authors and their histories with rejection.  Dr. Seuss was rejected 27 times before his first book was picked up; John Grisham was rejected 28 times before selling his first novel; Louis L'amour received over 200 rejections before his first sale.
  

• In addition, Debbie is running the 1000/500 words a day challenge.  I'm only informally participating.

• Natasha put up a vlog about why you should read book bloggers....one of the three bloggers featured is My Favorite Person Hero of ALL Time, Trish (she lent me her SIGNED ARC of Kristin Cashore's FIRE even before she herself read it!)
  

• When writing SF or fantasy, sequels are for villains and world-building is essential.  (More about world-building at "Enchanted Inkpot."

• Steph interviewed Zoe Marriott, Tabitha interviewed E. Lockhart, and in honor of her own birthday month, drey is interviewing gazillions of people!

• My boss, the Co-Dictator of the Entire Universe, sent me the link to an article about the changes in YA fiction: It Was, Like, All Dark and Stormy.

Finally (and I have said this before) if you have not made the acquaintance of Loren and b., you really must do so.  These guys are hilarious, intelligent, insightful, talented, and sort of frighteningly complementary to one another.    They're like the little brothers I never had - wait, I do have little brothers - okay, they're the brothers I never had that it was okay for me to crush on.

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The real life peanut gallery thinks I've been a bummer this week. The real life peanut gallery should clean my kitchen if they want to cheer me up. But to placate them, I bring you this list of five things that make me smile.

1. The Writer's Almanac, a short daily broadcast of some thoughts on writing, writers, and a daily poem, all in the soothing and inspiring voice of Garrison Keillor. Just listening to it calms my day and makes me want to write. This is the internet at its best.

2. When we bought our house, we had to have the main water line replaced. Our little front lawn got torn up entirely, leaving a dirt mound which settled and rose funny until by Halloween it looked like a giant grave. This spring, sparse grass and huge weeds grew on it. Then a monstrous maple branch fell on it. It's not pretty. Last week (while avoiding my book), I hired a landscaper to come and level it and lay sod. Rainy weather has kept him away, but he put up his sign. So now, when you drive down my street, it looks like Todd's Services is advertising their responsibility for this:














3. Irony

4. This week, people have ended up in Jacqui's Room by Googling "rigging a rubber chicken," "bad mayo food poisoning," and "fun clinical destructo." The last one is my favorite; what was she looking for?!

5. Serendipitous fan mail. Someone came by Jacqui's Room this week looking for a book by another author...and not only stayed, but wrote to tell me how much her kids liked The New Girl...And Me. Now that cheered me much more than a clean kitchen could. Not that you should cancel your trip, if you were coming, maidly fairies.

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All right, my lovelies, I've been spending a lot of time on the book-part of my blog, so I'm going to be taking some time to work on my writing.

I have, however, managed my Koala Kounts for the past few days. I've written some really bad poetry and a really good sermon. If you are interested in reading (and/or listening, to the sermon, anyway), send me an email and I'll give you the link.

Otherwise, I've kept that site private since - well, you can never be too certain. You might get people like this hounding you.

Stay tuned - tomorrow, Mr. Gorgeous, Mr. Dreamy-Irish-Hunk himself, Stuart Neville!!

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... that almost rhyme with "Steve from AT&T"

1. no serendipity
2. my computer hates me
3. eternity *
4. Steve: bum. plays D&D.
5. I should have stuck with Comcast**

... that almost rhyme with U-Verse
1. perverse
2. Converse high tops***
3. Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse
4. from bad to worse
5. curse****

* as in how long it takes to load every page
** okay, that doesn't even almost rhyme, but it's the same thing, minus the mysterious "Your broadband connection is interrupted please contact your service provider" messages I am getting every ten minutes. I don't WANT to contact my service provider. I HATE that evil seductress of other people's fake boyfriends.
*** as in "I want to stomp my AT&T box while wearing Converse high-tops"
**** as in "Excuse me. I have to go yell inappropriate things at the little AT&T box now."

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Jacqui is offline.
Jacqui is trying to sleep.
Jacqui's son posted a note: "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!"
Jacqui is turning off the baby monitor.
Jacqui's cats have sent her a "pawful of litter to the face."
Jacqui is fine I'm up okay?!
Jacqui blocked the application "Morning Breath."
Jacqui is trying to pour milk into a sippy cup without opening her eyes.
Jacqui is reading Richard Scarry's THINGS THAT MOVE. Again.
Jacqui is no longer part of the group "People Who Shower Daily."
Jacqui is a fan of caffeine.
Jacqui wonders if kids can OD on frozen waffles.
Jacqui is even if they're organic?
Jacqui is no longer a fan of winter.
Jacqui refuses to accept responsibility for the fact that it's freezing and you have to wear a coat.
Jacqui's daughter posted the note: "25 Random Things I Have to Touch When I Am Supposed To Be Brushing My Teeth."
Jacqui should have left ten minutes ago.
Jacqui's children are no longer members of the group "People To Whom Jacqui Is Speaking Nicely."
Jacqui is pulling her son out of the driver's seat.
Jacqui's daughter is not attending the event "First Five Minutes of School."
Jacqui is snabblefrug.
Jacqui is a fan of day care.
Jacqui is wracked with guilt over that snabblefrug.
Jacqui is practicing deep breathing.
Jacqui should be writing.
Jacqui is the Queen of Text Twist.
Jacqui just has to do this one more thing.
Jacqui is staring at the blank page.
Jacqui has nothing to say.
Jacqui is no longer a fan of her novel.
Jacqui is fine just write something already you loser.
Jacqui wrote a whole page.
Jacqui wrote three more.
Jacqui is writing.

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