I'm half-back

Hello again (finally). Guess what I got back. That's right! I know have a working computer with a working internet again. One of my first orders of business was to check out the blog, but the first time I came (and this is slightly embarrassing to admit), I felt like I was intruding on something private. But I want to play with the big kids, too, so I decided to get over it.

Barbara, have the most fabulous of fabulous times in Bonaire! I'm sorry I didn't see you before you went. Bob, I'll be in Florida this Thursday, but cross my heart I'll be at The Attic the Thursday after and I'll stop skipping. And new year, new me: I do believe I'm actually going to write. On that line, my first order of business when I got the computer back was to tighten up some pieces I have sitting around and send them off. Let the rejections start piling up (again), but please also let an acceptance or two slip through!

I have to share an email exchange from today, too. You know how in love I am with McSweeney's, right? Well I finally emailed them about the book I ordered that came without a book jacket (See figure 1).

Dear McSweeney's,

A few months ago I ordered a copy of Brian Greenman's _Superbad_ (Order# 369692), and since I am a horrible procrastinator, I am just getting around to asking this question: The book came without a book jacket, and is it possible for me to get one? I love the craftsmanship of your books, and I particularly like that cover painting. The book, though, was on backorder when I originally ordered it, and now I can't find it in your online store, so I'm wondering if maybe you aren't printing more and I was lucky to get the book proper.

This leads me to my second question. Though I don't remember for sure, I think _Superbad_ was on sale when I ordered it. If indeed it is going out of print, should I worry about the books that are on sale now and snatch them all up while I still can? I tend to save my McSweeney's orders for treats on particularly bad or good days, but I already lost out on the re-released McSweeney's first issue because of that policy, so now I'm a little nervous.

Thanks for your help!

Jenny

And they wrote me back:

Hi Jenny:

Sadly, we had to send out about 5 Superbads without covers because they were the last ones we had (at all!). We will not be re-printing that book, so it is the last really. Sorry about that, I can make it up to you in some way, just name it! As for your question about sales: they do not necessarily mean it is close to going out of stock. In fact, usually sales mean we have overstock of that item. Basic supply-and-demand stuff.

Adam Krefman

McSweeney's

Cherries are now in season!

And they are in motion too!

And I wrote them back:

Dear Adam,

Thanks for your quick response. On the matter of making the lack of book jacket up to me, I will be willing to settle for the satisfaction of the fact that I got one of the last 5 copies, but I would also be willing to upgrade to any of these deal sweeteners (I am fully aware that none of these things may be possible, but my mother always told me to dream big):

1. A signed copy of Sheila Heti's The Middle Stories because she is giftedly twisted.

2. A bottle of 826 Valencia's buxom perfume because I am not, indeed, buxom, but I could smell like I was.

3. A copy of The Circus Journal with an added smattering of random advice, useless trivia, or tasteless doodles by McSweeney's interns because I believe that interns should take every chance they can to celebrate their wisdom and/or their crassness.

Cheers,

Jenny

And here comes the really exciting part, when they wrote me back again:

Hi Jenny:

OK, option 3 it is. Option 1 is difficult for obvious reasons. 2 is not doable because the pirate store is a different animal than McSweeney's; different management, bookkeeping, etc. 3 is awesome because the interns will like it and I think it's fun. One problem: we don't have any more Circus Journals at our office right this second, but we should have more this week, at which point I will have interns write fun things to you in it. Thanks!

Adam Krefman

How cool is that?

Jenny

Bye-bye, Barbara

As I type this, rain is falling, making a racket on the skylight here in the library. Thunder comes booming out of the distance. It's raining in January. Imagine that! Rivers are threatening to crest their banks. And you, on your way to Bonaire. I wish you and Don all the best mornings and the sweetest, most heart-breakingly beautiful sunsets. You really are brave, you know that. You keep saying that you are stubborn, but maybe that's simply how bravery begins. Take care, Barbara. Take care of your characters (but not too much - they need the freedom to make their own perfect mistakes).

Bob;-)

Socking Fever

But I must confess it's a self-inflicted case. There I was minding my own business happily knitting fingerless and regular mitts when I asked DD to show me how to knit a sock before she went back to Kentucky last weekend. I've been reading the Yarn Harlot's blog and books and am fascinated by how quickly she turns out socks. When I read through the Harlot's blog archives I was boggled by all the first socks people show her and the sheer volume of socks she cranks out. I cast on a sock in Wool-Ease just for practice, to play with, not for serious sock making. I intended to find some cotton to knit into dishcloths and maybe some other something to knit in cotton to take to Bonaire for a month. I mean, who wants to knit wool while they're sitting on a Caribbean island? Not me. Well, there's cotton and acrylic and polyester yarn, and it's worsted weight and you can make socks out of it. Did you know that? I found Berroco's Love it Colors and had to buy the colorway called Monday Monday, soft and variegated. Three balls so I'll have enough (I have big feet). Then I was looking around to see what other sock yarn was on the shelves and found Filatura di Crosa's Maxime print in the festively named #5048. Yummy colors, but it's merino and DK weight so it's staying home and will have to wait. I've been knitting sock when I should have been finishing packing so I can calm down and be ready to leave without having a nervous breakdown. But see how pretty? The packing's nearly done and our flight isn't until 6:15 PM tomorrow. I can make it.

Packing Insanity

You say I'm brave, Bob, but I think I'm just stubborn, which actually may masquerade as bravery. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with the packing and preparation (as if I haven't done it many times before) so my writing has come to a short halt while I tear out my hair and make piles of things around the house. I promise to resume blogging once I am ensconced in the orange bungalow. Cross my heart. Take care, keep writing, and I'll see you the first Thursday after Feb. 8.

--Barbara

Willemstoren Lighthouse

Oh, Bob, there's no doubt in my mind that I am in love with Bonaire. It's my happy place, where my mind takes me when things get bad or boring. It's the geography that feeds my fantasies, partly because it's so far away and kind of tricky to get to, and partly because I can romanticise it to my heart's content. Few know when I play fast and loose with the facts of the place. Wacky questions mean your mind's still working and your eyes are looking at things from a different angle. It's a good thing.

"Looks like a giant albino penis sticking up all lonely at this end of the island." Edward turned to stare at Louise. "What?" She pointed. "There's a lighthouse over there. See?" "Of course, I see it. It's the only building for a mile in any direction." He pulled the camera out of the bag between them on the seat and stepped out of the rental truck to take a picture. He stood in the middle of the road to take it. Theirs was the only vehicle to be seen. It was just after noon and everyone with any sense was either lying in the shade having a siesta or underwater. Not Edward. He was going to wring every moment out of his vacation even if he courted sunstroke. Even if he drove Louise mad with his constant movement.

I'm coming to like Louise and Edward and their antics on the island. This little scribble makes me think that Edward was the guy who came to lying by the lighthouse. That if I'd written for five more minutes last night that Louise would have bopped him with a rock and driven off!

Two more days, okay two and a half, then we fly away. Whoopie! I spent yesterday zooming around doing errands and on the phone making sure everything is all arranged and getting the dive gear packed and trying on clothes. *pant, pant* There's a pile of clothes lying on the floor and tumbling into a suitcase in the basement. Tonight's the dive shop Christmas party (ooh, broasted pork chops and kneecaps. Yum.) and I intend to finalize the packing today so I can spend tomorrow in regal sloth conserving energy for our 2-day airport marathon. Grrr for changing schedules.
--Barbara

Can it Be?

Thank you, Barbara, for a terrific writers' group last night. I knew you had feelings for Bonaire, but as you were going over the features of the place, it occurred to me that it has a profound pull on your heart. Now my question is this: Can a place be a mystic lover? It's a crazy question, I know, but I had to ask. I'm full of crazy questions these days.

Bob;-)

Flamingo

Brrr!

The sunset on Gotomeer painted the water a luminous shade of orange touched with purple gray shadows. Edward steered the rental car along the road that skirted the lake. "Why every time we go out we end up trapped on this damned one-way road I do not know." His knuckles were white with frustration and his generous lips thinned as he spoke. "It amazes me that on an island this small you manage to get us lost." He cut a glance at his wife, Louise, beside him holding a guidebook and staring out the windshield at the wheeling gulls out over the wake of a passing fishing boat. She didn't look at her husband or offer an argument to his outrageous statement. "Of course," Edward said into the strained silence, "if you would quit giving me the wrong directions this wouldn't happen." Still not speaking, Louise rolled down her window letting in the hot, humid breeze generated by the car's movement, tossed the guidebook out, and rolled the window back up. Edward took his foot off the gas and stomped on the brake, forgetting to depress the clutch, causing the engine to stall. He turned to look at her. "Why the hell did you do that?" Louise turned her expressionless face to meet his reddening one and said, "Well, if I keep getting us lost the map must be faulty. It couldn't be your driving." She calmly faced forward again.

See you tonight unless we all freeze solid before then.
--Barbara