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Books By The Bay Event
I’m updating my calendar with another event so I thought I’d best mention it here, too!
On September 21st, I’ll be at the Olympia Golf and Country Club, in Olympia, Washington, to participate in Books by the Bay, a fund raising event for South Sound Reading Foundation. Details can be found on the South Sound Reading Foundation website. The evening event will go from 5 to 7 PM, and feature authors signing books as well as food, wine and conversation, all for the sake of promoting literacy.
For more information, please call 360-412-4499, or email: read2me@nthurston.k12.wa.us
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My Tacoma: Blueberry Park
Many years ago, the City of Tacoma somehow ended up with a blueberry farm. They set it aside to be a park, but somehow, it was overlooked for number of years. The blue berry bushes grew, and those who knew about it descended on it regularly to pick berries. But the Himalayan blackberries invaded it, and the bushes, untended, grew tall and rangy, and homeless people began to camp in the deep brush, along with tweakers. Blueberry Park was close to being lost.
About ten years ago, prompted by local lady Charlotte Valbert, the city remembered the park. First her volunteers stepped in to clear and prune the bushes, and then the city itself. My daughter Ruth and I were among those who came with snips and trash bags to help prune and clean.
There was some talk of clearing the park for ball fields but fortunately wiser heads prevailed. The bushes nearest to street were, by tacit consent, set aside for the elderly and handicapped, while those deeper in the park still remain for the more adventurous. Many of the bushes have been pruned, the areas between the bushes mulched and it is much more accessible now than the first time I braved its depths with a couple of ten year olds to pick berries. But wilder parts of the park remain, and I’m actually glad it’s so. Some of the 20 acres of the park are wetlands to be preserved.
Yesterday I headed out there with my grandchildren. There are several varieties of blueberry bushes in the park, so some are ripe now while other bushes are still full of green berries. We took a big bucket for me, and juice pitchers with lids for the kids. It is inevitable that kids fall when picking berries. Over the years, we have discovered that if you are picking berries and putting them down the spout of a plastic juice pitcher, when you fall you don’t lose them all.
It was a good day to pick, not as hot as our recent days. The bushes are tall enough that telling the kids to stay in sight is not practical. So we use the method of ‘you have to be in range of my normal speaking voice.’ It works well. Periodically, I would say their names, and each kid has to respond right away.
There were a lot of families in the park. I’ve noticed that whenever I do any ‘free harvesting’ activity in Tacoma area, such as fishing or clamming or berry picking, I encounter a lot of our newest arrivals joining me. So as we moved throughout the berry park, which is quite a large area, we encountered several different languages being spoken.
At one point in the distance, I heard a woman singing a Russian song. A short time later, I heard a man’s voice sing out, “A, B,C,D, E, F, G” and then he paused. And from a scattered area around him, I heard little voices sing back, “H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P.” A short time later, I added my call out as I did a role call of my grandkids and they all chimed back. It reminded me of territorial bird calls as various parents sounded off and kids responded.
We came home with half a bucket of blueberries, enough for 2 pies and three containers of berries in the freezer. We’ll go back, of course, over the next few weeks. Who could resist free blueberries and a peaceful time out in the sun.
Only tonight I learned that Charlotte died a few days ago. I did not know her personally, but I personally enjoy the legacy that she saved for all of us. Thank you, Charlotte Valbert.
Robin
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ConClusion, Westercon 65
This comes under the heading of sharing good news way ahead of time.
Seattle has won the bid for Westercon 65 in 2012. That’s the weekend of July 5-8.
And I will be there as guest of honor!
Westercon is always a lively convention, and one I’ve greatly enjoyed in the past. The official title will be ConClusion and we will be celebrating the theme “A Step Out of Time”, which will be not just the end of the world but the beginning of a new one. Thus, the convention will begin with Closing Ceremonies.Online registration will be available soon. Right now, registration is only $45. (A really good deal!)
So, if you’re not booked up yet forJuly 5-8 in 2012, you might want to consider a great weekend in Seattle.
Robin
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Gone Fishing!
I haven’t gone fishing in years. Possibly decades. We fished a lot when we lived on Kodiak. Trout in the streams on the way to town from Chiniak. Dock fishing for halibut, the little ones we called ‘chicken halibut’, 25 pounds or so.
I don’t think I’ve ever fished since we moved to Washington State. But the grandkids wanted to go very badly, so on an impulse I rousted out my ‘little’ brother Steve and cousin Nick. Steve is an avid fisherman, and has about as many fishing poles in his garage as he has children, times about five to allow for the various stages of fishing ability kids go through. So, we loaded the van with first time fishermen, geared up, and went down to Dash Point in Federal Way.
Packed. Not a parking space to be seen for miles, and the beach was covered with people. Huge disappointment.
So, we adjourned to Ruston Way in Tacoma and thence to the docks in front of The Dock.
There was plenty of parking,and the fishing dock was populated, but not crowded. Most folk down there were tossing out crab rings, despite the sign at the top of the ramp that warns everyone, in multiple languages, not to eat any crab, shellfish or bottom fish taken in the area, as they are probably much higher in heavy metals than is good for people. After all, it’s not too far from where the smelter spouted out arsenic and lead for years.
But we had fishing poles and sardines for bait, and cookies and chips and cold drinks. Shady hats, hard boiled eggs, and three very excited small kids. Putting the hooks on the poles and baiting up took a bit of time, as did getting across the idea of casting. And of not standing next to a cousin or sib who was casting. And of not immediately reeling the hook back in and casting again.
We had a great time. The fellow next to us with the crab ring was having regular success with it. Ruth scored points with everyone when she rounded up one of his crabs who was threatening to escape while he was untangling his line. Seems like there are very few language barriers that don’t yield to the mutual concerns of fishing.
Then Alex hooked a little Dolly Varden trout and that was so exciting. Here very first fish, and our first fish of the day. It was probably about 7 inches long. Into a bucket of water it went and we spent quite a bit of time watching it swim around.
Nick managed to catch a sea star, a big orange one with multiple legs, slightly bigger than a dinner plate. But while he was getting it onto the dock for the kids to look at, the tip of my younger grand-daughter’s pole bent and I told her, “I think you’ve got something.” She gave the rod a yank and the tip bent even more. She cranked and cranked and cranked that reel and when the shark came into view she just stopped and stared and then said, “I . . can’t . . . breathe!” Too, too exciting!
We hauled him in and her aunt videotaped it while Nick got the pliers and carefully took the hook out of his mouth. The dogfish was between 18 inches and 2 foot long. He was admired as much as if he were Moby Dick.
We returned him safely to the water, but from that instant on, I knew it was the kids who were really hooked. Her very first fish ever, and it was a SHARK!By five I was ready to call it a day. The familiar pleas of ‘just one more cast’ reminded me too much of my mom. She would have been thrilled to have been there today. Another generation brought into the fishing fold.
After a very short debate, the Dolly Varden was returned to the water. It zipped out of sight the second it was in the water. The cat would have to be happy with cat chow tonight.
And we all went home. A very good day.
Robin
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UK Cover The Inheritance
Cover by Jackie Morris
A picture is definitely worth 10,000 words!
Robin
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Changing of the Guard
I will begin this by saying that the Pi cat is alive and well, or as well as a 19 year old cat can be.
But of late, she has decided that the hike down the stairs to the always cool basement where I work is not to her liking. She spends most of her days snoozing now on her cushion in front of the fireplace, even when there is no fire there. Her greatest joy is when my granddaughters arrive to fuss over her and brush her endlessly and tell her how beautiful she is.
So, for a time now, I have been writing by myself.
I should point out that Pi appointed herself as the writing cat shortly before I began writing Assassin’s Apprentice. She was there when the first Robin Hobb book was created, and has always been on hand (well, on lap) for writing every book since then. She learned to come and sit on my lap for company after her dearest cat friend died. Prior to that, she had little use for me except as a vehicle for serving catfood.
But once she had decided that I would have to do, she took her duties seriously. As soon as she heard the Microsoft chimes when I turned on the computer, she would come running to the office. And when she heard the chimes that announced I was turning off the computer, then she would hop off my lap and head for the bedroom.
A few days ago, I was surprised to find Princess AKA Falcor sitting on my desk chair when I came into the basement. I put her off, and began my night’s work, but she insisted she had to come back up and sit behind me in the chair. Since then, she has shifted to my lap. And now, just as my Pi cat did, she occasionally reaches up to add a letter or space to whatever I’m writing.
So, I believe the torch has been passed. I don’t know how Pi conveyed to her that it was her turn in the barrel, but Princess has been faithful about helping me write each evening. She has not yet learned to follow me through the house yowling when I attempt to take a night off, but I am sure Pi will eventually teach her that duty as well.
I do not know if the change in writing cats will turn up as a change in prose. Pi is a black ‘tuxedo’ cat with an interesting kink in her short tail. Princess is a not really white; she has apricot/Siamese markings, with large blue eyes. And she is a BIG cat, much heavier than Pi.
I have decided that from now on, when I over run my word count, I will give that as a reason. Bigger writing cat= longer books. Seems obvious to me.
She is also a hopeless stoner cat. During sunny days, she can be found absolutely wallowing in the cat nip patch.
So, any lack of coherence in the books on her watch can be easily explained also.
Please welcome Princess aboard. And drink a toast to Pi’s well earned retirement.
Robin
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National Night Out
August 3, tonight, was National Night Out.
In Tacoma, there are organized block parties and gatherings at places like the Boys and Girls clubs. The idea is that if people know their neighbors and own their streets, crime goes down.
Neighborhoods seem to run in cycles here. Young couples with babies or little kids move in, the kids go to school, grow up, leave for college and the older couple moves out and is replace by a young couple with kids.
My youngest daughter and her pals across the street are college age now. My grandkids come to my house almost every day, to ride bikes, chalk on the sidewalk, play games out side and the usual summer stuff.
Over the course of my lifetime, I’ve seen neighborhoods change radically. I as a child of the 50’s with stay-at-home moms, bread vans and milk delivery and the Fuller Brush Man, ice cream trucks and lots and lots of neighborhood kids. We walked to school together, we went to scout or campfire girl meetings after school, walked home through neighborhoods we knew and played until dark. Those were my California days, up to the time I was ten.
When we moved to Tacoma about 15 years ago, I thought we’d find that sort of a neighborhood. We didn’t so much. Kids are driven to school or catch a bus, they go to daycare after school, do organized sports and come home to eat dinner and go to bed. We were incredibly lucky to find a like-minded family across the street, and kids that wanted to play flash-light hide and go seek on summer nights, ride bikes, go to the zoo, and just hang out and play legos or Playmobil at my house.
My grandkids haven’t been so lucky in finding neighborhood friends. So my grand-daughter made up flyers and rode around on her bike, putting them under doormats or insides screen doors. “National Night Out. Go for a Walk and Meet your Neighbors. Come by the corner of N.28th and Mullen for cookies in our yard. Kids welcome!”
And tonight, we set up a card table in the front yard, and put out jump ropes and sidewalk chalk and bubble stuff and wands. We baked brownies and chocolate chip cookies and snickerdoodles. We set out the plates and sat down on our front steps to wait. We’d said we’d be there from 6 to 8.
People jogged past. Someone walked their dog past. We had our chalkboard out with a sign that said National Night Out and Cookies! But no one stopped and at 6:15 I was having a very bad feeling.
But then people with kids started to arrive. And it was great! Some we knew but had schedules that didn’t jive with ours. Others were strangers, from just half a block away, kids we had never seen! We met older couples whose kids had grown up, and a couple of near babies with their moms. Kids stayed and played. Bubbles everywhere and someone bought a Nerf gun, and bikes and scooters were racing on the sidewalk. It was great. Then we hit the jackpot, with a girl just up the street that we hadn’t met because she wasn’t supposed to cross the street alone.
Unless, of course, she is coming to our house now! A new friend who is home most of the summer! Perfect!
I think this is the best thing we’ve done all summer. And I think that even the kids who have really busy schedules may find some time to wander down and play here. And I now know quite a few more of my neighbors, so that worked out well for me as well.
Happy National Night Out! I hope you did something great in your neighborhood too.
Robin
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Painful but Necessary
There comes a time when one must admit that one does not need to own every book in the whole world. When the books are shoved sideways on top of paperbacks that are already two rows deep, well, it is time for some serious soul searching. And a thinning of the library.
First to go are the books where somehow I have an ARC, a hardback and then a paperback. Hardback stays, the other two can fly. Then there are the books I bought, tried to read and could not finish. Sorry, guys, you did not make the cut. Then the books I’ve read but cannot imagine ever wanting to read again. Time to let you fly off and find a more appreciative home.
As I am doing this, I am fighting guilt. “I paid money for this book. I should read it.” or “This book got great reviews. Everyone talks about it to this day. I should make myself read it.” Then I open the book, start in on the first paragraph, and within a page or two, I suddenly realize that, “No, my first impression was correct. This book is not talking to me.”
Old textbooks? How did these get saved all these years? Spanish workbooks, health textbooks, basic geometry. Off they go. Then I start encountering the ‘required reading’ books. How many copies of Three Theban Plays does any home library need? How many paperback copies of MacBeth, highlighted and Post-it-Noted to within an inch of its binding? Poor things, off you go to find a home with some high school student. I nearly saved the copy of The Great Gatsby just for the seven sentence outline that one of my offspring wrote in the front. Hm. They did not appear to enjoy this story much!
There are other kinds of chance encounters on the book shelves. Books I don’t recall buying, but suddenly find intriguing. And other books, books I can’t imagine that I ever paid money for that go into the toss box without another thought. Let them go off to the library used book shelf and with their sale bring some badly needed money into the library.
A shameful secret? There are three books in the box that I actually read and enjoyed. And then real life encounters with the authors cooled my appreciation for their work. Very petty, I know. But if there are three books that I am parting with on those terms, there are several dozen books I am keeping, in spite of feeling luke warm or even negative about the creators. There is some sort of a moral there, that if you write a good enough book, I’ll keep liking your story even if you personally make a horrifying impression on me!
This is also an opportunity to reorder my library. To put all the Scarborough in one place, to get all the deLint together, to find all the various volumes of Joe Lansdale and gather them into one glittering hoard of gems. Time to clear some space to put the Evanovich in numerical order.
My daughter wandered through as I was sorting the Lansdale. “Hey, that’s my copy!”
I take insufferable joy in opening it and pointing out that it’s signed to ME! Ha-ha!
I do not point out to her that the one that is three volumes over is signed to her!!! Later. She will look for it and find it. But for now, I will hoard it for her.
So, despite the fact that I will part with four cardboard boxes of books today, at the end of the day I will actually feel richer for rediscovered treasures, for moments spent dusting off old friends and for those lost moments when I actually dared to open an old favorite and once more fall into the depths of a story.
Oh, my books. Somehow, I don’t think seeing a file title on a hand-held screen could ever be quite the same as sorting through my own library.
Robin
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My Recent Reads
Let’s start with Blue Eyed Devils by Robert Parker. This is the most recent and alas, last installment that we will get about Everett Hitch and his partner Virgil Cole. It has been a long time since I have so enjoyed a Western novel, and I am sure I will re-read the books and more than once. Parker was best known for detective stories that featured Spenser. His death is still recent and I am still mourning that there are now definitely a finite number of Robert Parker books for me to find and devour. The Virgil and Everett story is one that I highly recommend; start with Appaloosa.
I am midway through Hard Eight, by Janet Evanovich. This is the eighth installment in the Stephanie Plum books, and I am still enjoying her New Jersey bounty hunter! These books not only make me laugh out loud, they are my best resource for calming those middle of the night anxiety attacks that occasionally plague me. Give up trying to sleep, turn on the light, pick up the book and leave my own reality for a time. I am very much enjoying this series and recommend them.
My first forays into reading SF came as a result of my mom bringing home digest sized magazines from the second hand store. I think it was probably her first experience, too, but it quickly led us both into a paperback habit that neither of us ever shook. In the final years of her life, we shared all sorts of SF and fantasy, from Cook’s Black Company books to Gaiman and Pratchett’s Good Omens. Half my pleasure in discovering a new author or great book was looking forward to passing it on to my Mom. It’s something I still miss.
But the SF magazine habit is still with me, expanded now to include the fantasy that often graces those pages. My enduring favorites, through several editorships, are The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine. They come, and I read. I’ve always felt that shorter works are some of our brightest gems in SF and fantasy in that everything excess is sheared away and what is left is pure story telling. The magazines are also where I have first experienced writers who went on to become favorites with me for their novels. It’s a great way to sample writers. And I’ve always enjoyed the magazines as my companions when waiting at the doctor’s office or during soccer practice. Sometimes I just want a whole story that I can read in less than an hour.
From the May/June edition of Fantasy and SF, I’ll call your attention to “Seven Sins for Seven Dwarves” by Hilary Goldstein and “The Gypsy’s Boy” by Lokiko Hall. And “Forever” by Rachel Pollack. And in Asimov’s, September 2010 (yes, the editors have developed time travel to whisk us to stories for months that haven’t happened yet!), I very much enjoyed “For Want Of A Nail” by Mary Robinette Kowal.
Does that mean I didn’t enjoy the other stories? No, only that those are the ones I devoured most recently. If your fantasy and SF reading has been limited to full length books, then perhaps you don’t know what you’ve been missing. Poe may have invented the American short story, but these magazines are certainly letting it evolve in a time when short fiction has disappeared from so many other magazines.
Happy Reading.
Robin
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Work In Progress Another Rain Wilds Book
I’ve posted about this before, but I keep receiving queries, so I’ll mention it again.
I am currently at work on another Rain Wilds book. It does not yet have a title. It does pick up the tale of the Tarman Expedition, but also touches on some events in Cassarick and Bingtown.
And that is as much as I’m saying about it right now!
Robin
Upcoming Appearances
- 09/21/10 in in Olympia, WA at
Olympia Golf and Country Club - 04/22/11 - 04/24/11 in in Mons, Belgium at
Trolls & Legendes - 05/26/11 - 05/29/11 in in Epinal, France at
Imaginales - 06/11/11 - 06/13/11 in in Saint-Malo, France at
Etonnants Voyageurs - 07/05/12 - 06/08/12 in in Seattle, WA at
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