A bit late. But it seems like they're trying.
http://www.annarbor.com/business-review/borders-introduces-self-publishing-service-for-e-books/
Friday, October 15, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saline Celtic Fest July 16 & 17
This article explains all the fun that is coming up...
http://www.heritage.com/articles/2010/06/29/saline_reporter/news/doc4c26591145019519203876.txt
http://www.heritage.com/articles/2010/06/29/saline_reporter/news/doc4c26591145019519203876.txt
Friday, June 04, 2010
WNBA website fundraiser
This year we are also in the process of re-designing our website (www.wnba-books.org) to include:
* A blogging platform
* Social networking connections
* New author page with colorful book jackets
* More flexible design to be updated often by WNBA-designated members
The national website is our calling card to every professional who reads, hears, or learns about WNBA. It is the link to chapters and the latest news. Our target for the website re-launch is early 2010. As you can imagine, this significant undertaking requires time and money.
Our hope is that with each member contributing just a small amount, from $10.00-$50.00, we will have the additional funds to complete the launch of the new site and continue offering our grants, awards, and other marketing initiatives to "bookwomen" around the country.
Please send all contributions to Margaret Auer, WNBA National Treasurer, with your chapter notated on your check.
Margaret E. Auer, Dean
University Libraries/Instructional Design Studio
University of Detroit Mercy
4001 W. McNichols Rd.
Detroit, MI 48221-3038
THANK YOU for your continued enthusiasm and support for the Women's National Book Association.
* A blogging platform
* Social networking connections
* New author page with colorful book jackets
* More flexible design to be updated often by WNBA-designated members
The national website is our calling card to every professional who reads, hears, or learns about WNBA. It is the link to chapters and the latest news. Our target for the website re-launch is early 2010. As you can imagine, this significant undertaking requires time and money.
Our hope is that with each member contributing just a small amount, from $10.00-$50.00, we will have the additional funds to complete the launch of the new site and continue offering our grants, awards, and other marketing initiatives to "bookwomen" around the country.
Please send all contributions to Margaret Auer, WNBA National Treasurer, with your chapter notated on your check.
Margaret E. Auer, Dean
University Libraries/Instructional Design Studio
University of Detroit Mercy
4001 W. McNichols Rd.
Detroit, MI 48221-3038
THANK YOU for your continued enthusiasm and support for the Women's National Book Association.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Ta-da!! Here it is!! Please read and comment.
Paul Bunyan
It was a day in March that was unnaturally warm for Massachusetts. The outside thermometer read 58 degrees, so it seemed that there should be tiny green buds on the grayish brown bushes and trees. But there weren’t. The sunshine and blue skies were a temporary respite from the normal dank gray winter sky, and a hard winter that wasn’t over yet. We were enjoying the weather, even thinking that it might last. But we should have figured it was too good to be true.
I was in the kitchen, cleaning. It was Saturday and that was the time I had available to do things like housework, grocery shopping, and homework. I had just started graduate school and it was much more time consuming than I thought it would be. But I had made the commitment, and my part-time job earned me an almost full-time income, allowing me some time during the week to work on projects and assignments. I’d caught up on the homework for the following week’s class so my attention now had to turn to the house and laundry, which had been neglected most of the week.
The breakfast plates were in the dishwasher and the pans were clean and put away. I was wiping down the sink and countertops, making a mental grocery list of things we needed, and looking out at our two-acre side yard. The sink, under a bow window, looked directly east and the morning sun had already cleared the room, spreading its warmth on the floor now instead of the ceiling and walls as it had earlier in the morning.
My brother Pete, who was visiting for the week from the Midwest, was outside with my husband. Pete had been looking forward to some snowboarding in the area, since I’d been hyping it up to him that we’d had almost 6 feet of snow. But with the weather warming every day for the past couple of weeks, most of the snow had melted and Pete didn't have much else to do.
Now that that there was another male around, my husband Brian was taking advantage of that fact to get some things done in the yard. He was a paraplegic and couldn’t do some of the projects around the house that required standing up. Brian used arm crutches to get around sometimes instead of his wheelchair, even though he’d been told to only use them when absolutely necessary. He had hand controls in his truck so he could drive. I hardly ever drove it because the steel pole connecting the steering column to the gas and brake pedals got in my way and if you tried to avoid touching them, you more than likely hit the gas or brake when you didn’t mean to.
He worked at home, in a shop we’d set up on the property for him. It had a ramp, heat, plumbing and electrical, a stackable washer and dryer, air conditioning, and every imaginable tool.
There were two tall, thin trees just outside the door of the shop that he’d wanted to remove since before we put the shop in. The trees, although not very large in circumference, were still 15 to 20 feet in height, and were bowing towards the driveway. He was afraid they were going to come down in a storm and hit the electric or cable wires. I’d successfully kept him from taking the trees down, at least before the weather got bad. My argument was that not only had we already taken down over 150 trees off the property (according to him, trees near a house caused shade and dampness, which then made mold grow on or in the house), he was going to need another person to guide the tree as it came down so it wouldn’t hit the house. And I wasn’t interested in helping.
With another male around, Brian believed he would get some support for his counter-argument, because there always was one with Brian. (Typically he and I argued about not only the priority of doing certain things around the house, but how to do them as well.) His theory was that there was no possibility either tree could hit anything since they were such thin trees. “Barely even branches.” As long as they were cut properly, they would fall away from the house and the shop anyway.” You worry too much. Trust me.”
My brother stood there listening to this exchange, with an amused smirk, smoking a menthol.
“Do whatever you want then,” I responded irritably, retreating back into the house, my eyes falling on the lawn tractor, an older Craftsman model we’d purchased for cash, which was sitting a couple of feet off the corner of the front porch. It had been covered with a tarp since November. Just the night before, Brian had taken off the rocks that held the tarp on, folded the tarp on the damp ground and opened up the hood of the tractor. He’d cleaned out the mouse nests. Before it could be started up and used, however, the tractor needed an oil change and new spark plugs. Anyone else might have finished this project first. But the chain saw beckoned and the trees were coming down first.
As I swept the floor in the kitchen, the operation began. Brian leaned up against the back end of his GMC Jimmy, which waited about ten feet from the trees. He wound a chain between the trees, about 3 feet up from the ground. He circled his forearms around his arm crutches and stood up wobbily, to stand next to the tallest tree. Then he tied the end of a thin nylon rope to the midsection of the tree, and pulled the tip of the tree towards him. He motioned to my brother to get him something that was sitting on the front step of his shop. Pete retrieved a metal disk and handed it to him.
Brian then wound the rope around the disk, and tied the other end to the hitch of the car. He handed the keys to the truck to Pete and waved an arm, which I assumed detailed whatever instructions he was giving Pete.
The disk, I then realized, was a pulley. He was going to have Pete drive down the driveway slowly, which would pull the top of the tree down. Brian would then cut the tree with the chainsaw, just above the level of the chain that held both trees steady.
I had a bad feeling. So I deliberately did not watch. I turned my back to the front windows and bit my nails.
The next thing I heard – because the windows were open with the nice weather – was a chainsaw starting up, and Brian yelling “OK, GO!” Then I heard my brother hitting the gas… a bit too hard. He wasn’t trying to, but the hand controls must have been in his way. Then I heard more yelling, and I decided I’d better look out the front window quick, to see if there was going to be an emergency room visit in the immediate future.
What I saw could have been in slow motion, or a bad scene in a film, and it wouldn’t have been any more bizarre to watch. As Brian yelled “No, no!” my brother must have heard, “Go, go!” and he kept tiptoeing the gas pedal, which tightened the nylon rope even further. The now-weakened tree, anchored with chain to its brother, squeaked and cracked. The tension on the rope pulled it off the hitch, through the pulley, snapping the tree like a whip. The tree then flipped exactly 90 degrees, and fell towards the front porch, landing with an unnatural thud, squarely on the edge of the tractor’s open hood, flipping the hood closed as it did so. I screamed.
The deep V in the tractor’s hood was almost comical looking, it was so deep. But that wasn’t the only damage. Fortunately the very tip of the tree ended about a foot off the corner of our brand new front porch, but it took the cable and phone wires down with it. The metal plate that held the wires to the house was now dangling a couple of feet off the siding.
I burst out the front door, calling to the guys to see if they were ok. My brother had parked the truck, leaving the driver door open. He stood next to the truck covering his open mouth, ostensibly to hold in his shocked and wildly amused “I don’t want to laugh but I can’t help it” laugh. My husband had the same look on his face and was trying less hard to keep the laughter in.
I was not laughing.
I turned on my heel and went back into the house to get the phone and the phone book to look up the utility company’s number. I got on the phone with a very nice woman in customer service who could tell I was trying really hard not to go ballistic on her. She did some checking and discovered that there was already a crew on our street doing some tree trimming and utility pole repairs. She said she would dispatch them to our place immediately so they could evaluate the damage and try to fix it. She did let me know that this type of damage was usually not covered in our monthly insurance coverage, since it was something we did and not an issue of bad weather.
I was actually seething, I realized, as I was talking and breathing through my clenched teeth. I don’t think I had ever been that angry before or since.
I grabbed my purse and the keys to the truck and walked out the front door. I stalked over to Pete and Brian, who by this point had tears in their eyes, they were laughing so hard.
With my jaw tight, I told Brian I was going shopping, and that I’d be back in about an hour and a half. “You’d better have this f-ing mess cleaned up by the time I get back, and I mean ALL of it.” I didn’t wait for his response and got into the truck and drove away, squealing the tires at the bottom of the driveway as I turned on to the street.
When I got back, the tree was removed and cut up, the wires were back on the house, and there was an epilogue. Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do with the tractor hood, at least in the time that I was gone.
The utility workers drove up in their truck, parked it at the end of the driveway, and walked up to Pete and Brian, who were lounging by the shop drinking Coronas.
“So who’s the Paul Bunyan?” asked one of the utility workers. My brother apparently collapsed into giggles then, just about spitting out his beer, as my husband sheepishly raised one hand off his arm crutch.
The utility guy grinned. “We’ll get you fixed up. Just don’t do it again, ok?”
It was a day in March that was unnaturally warm for Massachusetts. The outside thermometer read 58 degrees, so it seemed that there should be tiny green buds on the grayish brown bushes and trees. But there weren’t. The sunshine and blue skies were a temporary respite from the normal dank gray winter sky, and a hard winter that wasn’t over yet. We were enjoying the weather, even thinking that it might last. But we should have figured it was too good to be true.
I was in the kitchen, cleaning. It was Saturday and that was the time I had available to do things like housework, grocery shopping, and homework. I had just started graduate school and it was much more time consuming than I thought it would be. But I had made the commitment, and my part-time job earned me an almost full-time income, allowing me some time during the week to work on projects and assignments. I’d caught up on the homework for the following week’s class so my attention now had to turn to the house and laundry, which had been neglected most of the week.
The breakfast plates were in the dishwasher and the pans were clean and put away. I was wiping down the sink and countertops, making a mental grocery list of things we needed, and looking out at our two-acre side yard. The sink, under a bow window, looked directly east and the morning sun had already cleared the room, spreading its warmth on the floor now instead of the ceiling and walls as it had earlier in the morning.
My brother Pete, who was visiting for the week from the Midwest, was outside with my husband. Pete had been looking forward to some snowboarding in the area, since I’d been hyping it up to him that we’d had almost 6 feet of snow. But with the weather warming every day for the past couple of weeks, most of the snow had melted and Pete didn't have much else to do.
Now that that there was another male around, my husband Brian was taking advantage of that fact to get some things done in the yard. He was a paraplegic and couldn’t do some of the projects around the house that required standing up. Brian used arm crutches to get around sometimes instead of his wheelchair, even though he’d been told to only use them when absolutely necessary. He had hand controls in his truck so he could drive. I hardly ever drove it because the steel pole connecting the steering column to the gas and brake pedals got in my way and if you tried to avoid touching them, you more than likely hit the gas or brake when you didn’t mean to.
He worked at home, in a shop we’d set up on the property for him. It had a ramp, heat, plumbing and electrical, a stackable washer and dryer, air conditioning, and every imaginable tool.
There were two tall, thin trees just outside the door of the shop that he’d wanted to remove since before we put the shop in. The trees, although not very large in circumference, were still 15 to 20 feet in height, and were bowing towards the driveway. He was afraid they were going to come down in a storm and hit the electric or cable wires. I’d successfully kept him from taking the trees down, at least before the weather got bad. My argument was that not only had we already taken down over 150 trees off the property (according to him, trees near a house caused shade and dampness, which then made mold grow on or in the house), he was going to need another person to guide the tree as it came down so it wouldn’t hit the house. And I wasn’t interested in helping.
With another male around, Brian believed he would get some support for his counter-argument, because there always was one with Brian. (Typically he and I argued about not only the priority of doing certain things around the house, but how to do them as well.) His theory was that there was no possibility either tree could hit anything since they were such thin trees. “Barely even branches.” As long as they were cut properly, they would fall away from the house and the shop anyway.” You worry too much. Trust me.”
My brother stood there listening to this exchange, with an amused smirk, smoking a menthol.
“Do whatever you want then,” I responded irritably, retreating back into the house, my eyes falling on the lawn tractor, an older Craftsman model we’d purchased for cash, which was sitting a couple of feet off the corner of the front porch. It had been covered with a tarp since November. Just the night before, Brian had taken off the rocks that held the tarp on, folded the tarp on the damp ground and opened up the hood of the tractor. He’d cleaned out the mouse nests. Before it could be started up and used, however, the tractor needed an oil change and new spark plugs. Anyone else might have finished this project first. But the chain saw beckoned and the trees were coming down first.
As I swept the floor in the kitchen, the operation began. Brian leaned up against the back end of his GMC Jimmy, which waited about ten feet from the trees. He wound a chain between the trees, about 3 feet up from the ground. He circled his forearms around his arm crutches and stood up wobbily, to stand next to the tallest tree. Then he tied the end of a thin nylon rope to the midsection of the tree, and pulled the tip of the tree towards him. He motioned to my brother to get him something that was sitting on the front step of his shop. Pete retrieved a metal disk and handed it to him.
Brian then wound the rope around the disk, and tied the other end to the hitch of the car. He handed the keys to the truck to Pete and waved an arm, which I assumed detailed whatever instructions he was giving Pete.
The disk, I then realized, was a pulley. He was going to have Pete drive down the driveway slowly, which would pull the top of the tree down. Brian would then cut the tree with the chainsaw, just above the level of the chain that held both trees steady.
I had a bad feeling. So I deliberately did not watch. I turned my back to the front windows and bit my nails.
The next thing I heard – because the windows were open with the nice weather – was a chainsaw starting up, and Brian yelling “OK, GO!” Then I heard my brother hitting the gas… a bit too hard. He wasn’t trying to, but the hand controls must have been in his way. Then I heard more yelling, and I decided I’d better look out the front window quick, to see if there was going to be an emergency room visit in the immediate future.
What I saw could have been in slow motion, or a bad scene in a film, and it wouldn’t have been any more bizarre to watch. As Brian yelled “No, no!” my brother must have heard, “Go, go!” and he kept tiptoeing the gas pedal, which tightened the nylon rope even further. The now-weakened tree, anchored with chain to its brother, squeaked and cracked. The tension on the rope pulled it off the hitch, through the pulley, snapping the tree like a whip. The tree then flipped exactly 90 degrees, and fell towards the front porch, landing with an unnatural thud, squarely on the edge of the tractor’s open hood, flipping the hood closed as it did so. I screamed.
The deep V in the tractor’s hood was almost comical looking, it was so deep. But that wasn’t the only damage. Fortunately the very tip of the tree ended about a foot off the corner of our brand new front porch, but it took the cable and phone wires down with it. The metal plate that held the wires to the house was now dangling a couple of feet off the siding.
I burst out the front door, calling to the guys to see if they were ok. My brother had parked the truck, leaving the driver door open. He stood next to the truck covering his open mouth, ostensibly to hold in his shocked and wildly amused “I don’t want to laugh but I can’t help it” laugh. My husband had the same look on his face and was trying less hard to keep the laughter in.
I was not laughing.
I turned on my heel and went back into the house to get the phone and the phone book to look up the utility company’s number. I got on the phone with a very nice woman in customer service who could tell I was trying really hard not to go ballistic on her. She did some checking and discovered that there was already a crew on our street doing some tree trimming and utility pole repairs. She said she would dispatch them to our place immediately so they could evaluate the damage and try to fix it. She did let me know that this type of damage was usually not covered in our monthly insurance coverage, since it was something we did and not an issue of bad weather.
I was actually seething, I realized, as I was talking and breathing through my clenched teeth. I don’t think I had ever been that angry before or since.
I grabbed my purse and the keys to the truck and walked out the front door. I stalked over to Pete and Brian, who by this point had tears in their eyes, they were laughing so hard.
With my jaw tight, I told Brian I was going shopping, and that I’d be back in about an hour and a half. “You’d better have this f-ing mess cleaned up by the time I get back, and I mean ALL of it.” I didn’t wait for his response and got into the truck and drove away, squealing the tires at the bottom of the driveway as I turned on to the street.
When I got back, the tree was removed and cut up, the wires were back on the house, and there was an epilogue. Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do with the tractor hood, at least in the time that I was gone.
The utility workers drove up in their truck, parked it at the end of the driveway, and walked up to Pete and Brian, who were lounging by the shop drinking Coronas.
“So who’s the Paul Bunyan?” asked one of the utility workers. My brother apparently collapsed into giggles then, just about spitting out his beer, as my husband sheepishly raised one hand off his arm crutch.
The utility guy grinned. “We’ll get you fixed up. Just don’t do it again, ok?”
So it's been a month since I "promised" something
Yeah ... that. Just finished up the quarterly newsletter for the WNBA (www.wnba-books.org) and have also started some research on converting print books into ebooks... so I can't say I didn't have the time to write. I've been making time for other things, however. And I have now come up with quite a few more "incidents" to write about, including the many hospital stays of my ex. Wonder how those never made it into the "idea list" yet; I guess I was blocking them :/
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I know, I promised...
But I haven't had much of a chance to flesh out my story. I've certainly added to the idea list, however, which is now 7 pages long. Every day I seem to remember something else that I hadn't thought of in years... last night there was a piece on sled hockey on the evening news, and I watched it closely to see if Rick Middleton was still coaching. The piece was about a group of players who are Iraq war vets, though, so it wasn't the Paralympic team. Just weird stuff like that. So I promise: a real post with a chapter next week!
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
The writing... yeah.. that.
So with multiple people in our house getting the stomach flu this week... the writing has gone by the wayside. So I'm at least one page behind. I added some more detail to my chronological outline today, so now I have 5 pages. Amazing how when I am laying in bed at night, what new memories come flooding back, even when they're not summoned.
Next week, the goal is to finish up the first "incident" story about the trees getting chopped down and get it posted here for your perusal and commentary. Slow but sure finishes the book.
Next week, the goal is to finish up the first "incident" story about the trees getting chopped down and get it posted here for your perusal and commentary. Slow but sure finishes the book.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Writing the novel - week 2
So far so good. A page and half of single spaced text--a short chapter, now in progress. Probably one of the only humorous parts of the book, too. It's the story I have told over and over as an example of how moronic my ex was. It's visual and has a lot of detail. It's the story that sticks with me, and easy for me to tell since it's one of the only instances that is not frought with heavy emotion. A good starting point. I'll post it here when it's ready to be seen.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Something's getting written tomorrow!
So today I was supposed to start yoga. Only when I called the gym yesterday to make the commitment, they told me there wasn't enough interest in the 2x/week class so it would just be a Tues. only class and I'd have to be a drop-in. So that's a little more expensive but not bad.
I got a call from day care yesterday that Ethan had a fever and some stomach upset... so back to the dr. again. Only the regular doctor this time instead of an urgent care. The end result was that he was put on some allergy meds, hopefully that will dry him out once and for all. And he's been put on another antibiotic, because his ear infection is not only not healed up yet but it's back in the right ear again too. So I had to leave work early, pick him up, go to the doc, go to CVS for the prescription... then get home.
Scott got up this morning to leave extra early for work and realized he had a flat tire. So he had to take my car and I stayed home w/the kids. Thank God for a flexible employer!
Which means... no yoga, *and* no writing today. But the writing will happen tomorrow, and I will go to yoga next Tuesday.
Sheesh.
I got a call from day care yesterday that Ethan had a fever and some stomach upset... so back to the dr. again. Only the regular doctor this time instead of an urgent care. The end result was that he was put on some allergy meds, hopefully that will dry him out once and for all. And he's been put on another antibiotic, because his ear infection is not only not healed up yet but it's back in the right ear again too. So I had to leave work early, pick him up, go to the doc, go to CVS for the prescription... then get home.
Scott got up this morning to leave extra early for work and realized he had a flat tire. So he had to take my car and I stayed home w/the kids. Thank God for a flexible employer!
Which means... no yoga, *and* no writing today. But the writing will happen tomorrow, and I will go to yoga next Tuesday.
Sheesh.
Monday, February 08, 2010
So much for Tuesdays
Another 2010 goal of mine is to get back to yoga... I've been saying it now for 2 years and haven't done it. Now, an opportunity for Yogalates class has just presented itself. Not only is it cheap, but it's offered in 1/2 hour increments at my lunch hour across the street from where I work! And a couple of girls from the office are going too. It's a no-brainer.
The only problem? It's Tuesdays and Thursdays! So I'm switching up my "writing day" to Wednesdays now. Which leaves only 2 lunch hours a week to run errands... but I truly need to get some exercise again. I felt so much better overall, and slept better, when I was doing that regularly. I even felt sharper mentally.
Could it be that I get a novel done *and* get myself in shape, all in one year...? Stay tuned.
The only problem? It's Tuesdays and Thursdays! So I'm switching up my "writing day" to Wednesdays now. Which leaves only 2 lunch hours a week to run errands... but I truly need to get some exercise again. I felt so much better overall, and slept better, when I was doing that regularly. I even felt sharper mentally.
Could it be that I get a novel done *and* get myself in shape, all in one year...? Stay tuned.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Writing the novel - Day 1
Today I was able to crank out 4 ds pages of ideas for chapters/stories/situations for the characters. It was all just remembering the crazy stuff that happened. I thought I wouldn't remember much but it was flowing pretty well. One thing led to another, and another. I even was remembering people's names which never happens. So I think it was a pretty successful first day. Baby steps, baby steps. Next week: fleshing out one of the ideas into a page or two of narrative.
I'm realizing today, this is going to be a LONG book.
I'm realizing today, this is going to be a LONG book.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Back to writing
And not just on here either. I've now designated each Tuesday's lunch hour to writing, so I can finally start on that book that's been in my head for years. I'm hoping that it will be therapeutic for me, and maybe some good writing will show up while I'm purging years of frustration & annoyance from my brain (left over from my previous life). I'm going to monitor my progress via Facebook status updates and on here, so come along with me while I venture down The Memory Highway of Hell and try to tell the story of what happened in my life between 1999 and 2005.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Yes it's sort of cheating to copy & paste something here, but it's cool
Book promotion requires mix of old and new
June 19, 2009
As book coverage in newspapers and magazines shrinks, but hundreds of thousands of new books continue to be published a year, book publicists have an increasingly challenging job. These publicists use a mix of traditional outreach and social media in an attempt to not only spread the word about new books, but also build up the reputation of an author.
"What sets book publicity apart is that we're promoting the books, but we're also promoting the author's career," says Tracy van Straaten, VP of publicity for Scholastic Trade Book Publishing.
Traditional tactics of in-person author events, trade shows like BookExpo America, and SMTs are still popular with publishers, who mostly handle publicity in-house. Publishers get galleys, or advanced reader copies, to send to both print and online reviewers, long-lead media outlets, and other influencers within book publicity, looking to build buzz, get reviews, and set up author interviews.
"We've worked with everyone from Oprah to all of the morning shows to all of the evening talk shows, to general interest magazines to hard-core book reviewers," says Dee Dee DeBartlo, senior director of publicity for William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins.
DeBartlo explains that all publicity for a book leads up to the on-sale date, but publicists should start building buzz well in advance of the publication.
Technology, though, continues to change old habits, including the way publishers send out review copies of books. "As the Kindle and other e-book readers proliferate, we're going to see more e-galleys," DeBartlo says.
"Start building a community for your book long before it comes out, up until it does, and even beyond that," adds Susannah Greenberg, president of Susannah Greenberg PR, who works only within the book publishing industry. She mentions several tactics that have increased in popularity in recent years, including creating book videos—sort of like movie trailers, but for books—and blog talk radio.
"Grassroots with books is really important because sometimes you want to go from the inside out and social media is a very large component right now," says Heidi Krupp-Lisiten,CEO of Krupp Kommunications, which started as a strictly book publicity agency and is now a full-service PR firm.
Stuart Applebaum, EVP and spokesman for Random House, encourages publicists to work with the editors of a book, to keep up with the status of the unpublished book and plan ahead with creative ideas.
"Editors keep our publicists well-informed," he says, "so [they] are ready to go with thought-out, constructive ideas utilizing both traditional and new communications tools."
Do
- Start early by building up a community of fans prior to publication, which will help spread the word
- Mix both traditional book publicity strategies, like reviews and author tours, with social media and online tactics
Don't
- Don't confine outreach to book review pages. Look to other sections of the newspaper and position the author and book in ways to attract non-book coverage.
- Don't stop outreach after the on-sale date. Continue to build up the author as a personality or expert, which could pay off for future books and projects.
Kimberly Maul, Reporter
PRWeek http://www.prweek.com
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Prank or a real crime?
From Yahoo News this morning:
So far in 2008, Baby Jesus has appeared in several police reports.
At First United Methodist Church in Kittanning, Pa., a baby Jesus was stolen and replaced with a pumpkin. In Eureka Springs, Ark., someone who absconded with a plastic baby Jesus from a public display last week also took the concrete block and chain that was supposed to act as a deterrent.
Previously, stolen Jesus figurines have also been defaced with profanity or Satanic symbols.
The incidents raise a question: Is stealing Baby Jesus harmless juvenile fun, or anti-Christian?
"I suspect most of it is childish pranks," said attorney Mike Johnson of the Alliance Defense Fund, a conservative Christian legal group. "Clearly, there are adults with an agenda to remove Christ from Christmas. But they tend to occupy themselves with the courts and courtroom of public opinion."
Stephen Nissenbaum, a retired history professor at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and author of "The Battle for Christmas," views the thefts as neither innocent vandalism nor religious hate crimes.
"What it means is that it's OK to go around violating even pretty important norms, as long as real human harm isn't being done," he said. "It could be Christian kids doing it — and on Jan. 2 they become good Christians again."
------------------------------------------------
This is part of an article about how churches are using GPS devices implanted in their baby Jesus figurines, and other parts of large outdoor nativities, in order to track down the criminals/pranksters who take them year after year. Here's an idea--just chain all the figurines together. And/or permanently fix Baby Jesus into his manger in some way. Ideas for that include Super Glue, 4" galvanized deck screws, lag bolts.
Or just attach an anvil to each figurine; you can order them from ACME. That's what Wile E. Coyote, Genius, would do.
So far in 2008, Baby Jesus has appeared in several police reports.
At First United Methodist Church in Kittanning, Pa., a baby Jesus was stolen and replaced with a pumpkin. In Eureka Springs, Ark., someone who absconded with a plastic baby Jesus from a public display last week also took the concrete block and chain that was supposed to act as a deterrent.
Previously, stolen Jesus figurines have also been defaced with profanity or Satanic symbols.
The incidents raise a question: Is stealing Baby Jesus harmless juvenile fun, or anti-Christian?
"I suspect most of it is childish pranks," said attorney Mike Johnson of the Alliance Defense Fund, a conservative Christian legal group. "Clearly, there are adults with an agenda to remove Christ from Christmas. But they tend to occupy themselves with the courts and courtroom of public opinion."
Stephen Nissenbaum, a retired history professor at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and author of "The Battle for Christmas," views the thefts as neither innocent vandalism nor religious hate crimes.
"What it means is that it's OK to go around violating even pretty important norms, as long as real human harm isn't being done," he said. "It could be Christian kids doing it — and on Jan. 2 they become good Christians again."
------------------------------------------------
This is part of an article about how churches are using GPS devices implanted in their baby Jesus figurines, and other parts of large outdoor nativities, in order to track down the criminals/pranksters who take them year after year. Here's an idea--just chain all the figurines together. And/or permanently fix Baby Jesus into his manger in some way. Ideas for that include Super Glue, 4" galvanized deck screws, lag bolts.
Or just attach an anvil to each figurine; you can order them from ACME. That's what Wile E. Coyote, Genius, would do.
Friday, December 05, 2008
The waste is just incredible
Detroit Police to burn 572 guns
BY TAMMY STABLES BATTAGLIA
December 5, 2008
In another shot at crime, the Detroit Police Department is burning 572 guns today, part of the more than 4,520 firearms confiscated from the hands of criminals during 2008.
Officers expect to display the guns for the media in the Detroit Police Department's Precinct 1 garage downtown at 8 a.m., then take the weapons to an undisclosed location to burn them.
The burn will be the last one of the year. The remaining weapons will be used as evidence to prosecute those who might have used them.
----------------------------------------------------------
Good grief. The least they could do is reuse the metal to build a homeless shelter... or recycle it into steel beams to build a house for Habitat.
Or, here's an idea suggested by another reader via comments on this story: sell each gun to a registered user (a non-criminal) for $500 and make over $2 million for the city! That would help the schools, the libraries... hell, it would pay for 25% of what Kwame spent on shutting up the policemen he fired. I just hope the next mayor of Detroit is not as embrassingly loose with taxpayer money and can at least clean up the mess. Anything more than that would be a true miracle.
BY TAMMY STABLES BATTAGLIA
December 5, 2008
In another shot at crime, the Detroit Police Department is burning 572 guns today, part of the more than 4,520 firearms confiscated from the hands of criminals during 2008.
Officers expect to display the guns for the media in the Detroit Police Department's Precinct 1 garage downtown at 8 a.m., then take the weapons to an undisclosed location to burn them.
The burn will be the last one of the year. The remaining weapons will be used as evidence to prosecute those who might have used them.
----------------------------------------------------------
Good grief. The least they could do is reuse the metal to build a homeless shelter... or recycle it into steel beams to build a house for Habitat.
Or, here's an idea suggested by another reader via comments on this story: sell each gun to a registered user (a non-criminal) for $500 and make over $2 million for the city! That would help the schools, the libraries... hell, it would pay for 25% of what Kwame spent on shutting up the policemen he fired. I just hope the next mayor of Detroit is not as embrassingly loose with taxpayer money and can at least clean up the mess. Anything more than that would be a true miracle.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Ethan update
I've been remiss on keeping any updates going on this blog about our little guy.
Last weekend the two teeth that have been bothering him finally cut through - bottom lower, in the center. He looks cute with teeth. (OK, he looks cute anyway. :) ) He has taken to chewing on just about everything: his highchair tray, clothing, blankets, stuffed animals, the side of his binky, a finger, your hair... essentially anything he can get his hands on. He reaches out now - mostly with the right hand - to grab things with all four fingers and sort of scratch them toward himself. He's also started sleeping on his side and rolling to his side to play. He still won't sit up by himself but that's only because he wants to stand up instead.
He's also getting more protein now, with Gerber and Beech Nut turkey and chicken "dinners." He doesn't like them alone so I heat them up a little, mix them with any vegetable and then he chows. His eating has been off lately, sometimes he eats so much it's sort of freaky and other times he only wants formula. We've been trying the sippy cup here and there, with apple juice, and he seems to like playing with it. He does get some juice out of it, but not much. So far he's not had any reactions to any foods, which is a relief. He started on barley cereal a couple of days ago and seems to really like it.
He is telling big long stories now, with a lot of "blah blah blah" noises and sometimes singing "lalalalala." Occasionally we can get him laughing REALLY hard, but it's never when the video camera is on, of course. When the camera comes out, he notices it and seems to act differently. Hm, wonder where he got that??
We've had to elevate his head while he sleeps at night because he has been really congested (alternating with a runny nose too). With the mattress elevated, it comes right up to the edge of the crib rail (we keep it down). I think we'll be lowering the crib before the weekend; he'll be pulling himself up soon and don't want any mishaps.
I'm still sorting out some of the 3-6 month clothes, which don't fit, that keep surfacing in the laundry... I've got a huge tub in the basement just about full. He's definitely wearing 6 mo. stuff but there are a couple of 9 mo. size pieces he can wear. Everyone comments about how long he is now. Maybe just because he's so much bigger than he used to be! He and Katie are about the same weight but he is taller. Crazy!
Last weekend the two teeth that have been bothering him finally cut through - bottom lower, in the center. He looks cute with teeth. (OK, he looks cute anyway. :) ) He has taken to chewing on just about everything: his highchair tray, clothing, blankets, stuffed animals, the side of his binky, a finger, your hair... essentially anything he can get his hands on. He reaches out now - mostly with the right hand - to grab things with all four fingers and sort of scratch them toward himself. He's also started sleeping on his side and rolling to his side to play. He still won't sit up by himself but that's only because he wants to stand up instead.
He's also getting more protein now, with Gerber and Beech Nut turkey and chicken "dinners." He doesn't like them alone so I heat them up a little, mix them with any vegetable and then he chows. His eating has been off lately, sometimes he eats so much it's sort of freaky and other times he only wants formula. We've been trying the sippy cup here and there, with apple juice, and he seems to like playing with it. He does get some juice out of it, but not much. So far he's not had any reactions to any foods, which is a relief. He started on barley cereal a couple of days ago and seems to really like it.
He is telling big long stories now, with a lot of "blah blah blah" noises and sometimes singing "lalalalala." Occasionally we can get him laughing REALLY hard, but it's never when the video camera is on, of course. When the camera comes out, he notices it and seems to act differently. Hm, wonder where he got that??
We've had to elevate his head while he sleeps at night because he has been really congested (alternating with a runny nose too). With the mattress elevated, it comes right up to the edge of the crib rail (we keep it down). I think we'll be lowering the crib before the weekend; he'll be pulling himself up soon and don't want any mishaps.
I'm still sorting out some of the 3-6 month clothes, which don't fit, that keep surfacing in the laundry... I've got a huge tub in the basement just about full. He's definitely wearing 6 mo. stuff but there are a couple of 9 mo. size pieces he can wear. Everyone comments about how long he is now. Maybe just because he's so much bigger than he used to be! He and Katie are about the same weight but he is taller. Crazy!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Ben Stein says, don't panic (a year ago)
Reprinted from Fortune.com... Note the date. I bet Ben Stein would say some of the same things today.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"STUPID" INVESTORS, REJOICE!
Ben Stein. Fortune. New York: Sep 3, 2007. Vol. 156, Iss. 5; pg. 59
Copyright (c) 2007 Time Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this material may be duplicated or redisseminated without permission.
No one is too stupid to make money in the stock market. But there are many who are too smart to make money.
To make money, at least in the postwar world, all you have to do is buy the broad indexes domestically--both in the emerging world and in the developed world--and, to throw in a little certainty about your old age, maybe buy some annuities.
To lose money, pretend you're really, really clever, and that by reading financial journalism and watching CNBC, you can outguess the market day by day. Along with that, you must have absolutely no sense of proportion about money and the world at large.
For example, right now we are stewing over what everyone calls "the subprime mess" and going crazy, mourning all day and into the night--falling over ourselves to get all of the misery right, to paraphrase Evita. I'm writing this on Aug. 13, 2007, and in the past four or five weeks, the markets of the U.S. have lost some 7% of their value, or about $1 trillion.
But read on: The subprime mortgage world is about 15% of all mortgages, or $1.5 trillion worth, very roughly. About 10%--approximately $150 billion--is in arrears. Of that, something like half is in default and will likely be seized in foreclosure and sold. That comes to about $75 billion. Roughly half to two-thirds of that will be realized on liquidation, leaving a loss of maybe $37 billion. Not chump change by any means--but one-thirtieth, more or less, of what has been knocked off the stock market.
The "smart" investor nevertheless reads the papers, bails out, heads for the hills, and stocks up on canned foods. He gets a really big charge out of reading in the press that there are also problems in the mergers and acquisitions market and that some deals will not go through because there are problems raising the funds for the deal. He does not see that the total value of the U.S. major stock markets (the Wilshire 5000) is roughly $18 trillion. The value of the deals that have failed in the private equity world is in the tens of billions or less. The loss to investors--what the merger price was compared with the normalized premerger price--is in the billions. It's real money, and I could buy my wife some nice jewelry with it, but it's pennies in the national or global systems.
The "smart" investor also reads that the Fed has injected, say, $100 billion into the banking system in the last week or ten days, and says, "Aha! The whole country is vaporizing. Look how desperate the system is for money!" What he does not see is that the Fed is always either adding or subtracting liquidity and that recent moves are tiny in the context of a nation with a money supply in the range of $12 trillion. No, the "smart" investor is far too busy looking for reasons to run for cover and thinks he can outsmart long-term trends.
The stupid investor knows only a few basic facts: The economy has not had one real depression since 1941, a span of an amazing 66 years. In the roughly 60 rolling-ten-year periods since the end of World War II, the S&P 500's total return has exceeded the return on "risk-free" Treasury long-term bonds in all but four ten-year periods--the ones ending in 1974, 1977, 1978, and 2002. The first three of these were times of seriously flawed monetary policy that allowed stagflation, and the last one was on the heels of the tech crash and the worst peacetime terrorist attack in the history of the Western world.
The inert, lazy, couch potato investor (to use a phrase from my guru, Phil DeMuth, investment manager and friend par excellence) knows that despite wars, inflation, recession, gasoline shortages, housing crashes in various parts of the nation, riots in the streets, and wage-price controls, the S&P 500, with dividends reinvested, has yielded an average ten-year return of 243%, vs. 86% for the highest-grade bonds. That sounds pretty good to him.
The "smart" investor, in a bunker in the Montana wilderness, keeps his money in gold bullion. After all, he's heard that home prices are falling slightly nationwide and a lot in some areas (he ignores areas of rising prices like San Francisco and New York City). He says that this will discourage the consumer and lead to a severe, bottomless recession. He even has bald people on TV telling him he's right to worry.
The stupid investor, the guy who just lies on his couch, knows that the consumer is always about to stop buying and never quite does. Maybe someone in his bowling club has told him there has only been one year since 1959 when consumer spending fell--and that was barely, in 1980. Somehow, if the consumer could keep spending after the bursting of the tech bubble wiped out $7 trillion or so of wealth, maybe the consumer can keep spending even if the subprime "mess" wipes out roughly half of 1% of that tech-bubble loss and the stock market has a fit. And maybe he knows that, even if there is a recession, recessions rarely last more than two quarters, and the economy and the stock market revive mightily after that--and that buying stocks in a recession is a good idea, not a bad idea.
Now, the alert reader may at this point be saying, "Hey, that 'stupid' guy who's really smart is a long-term investor. That's why he's doing so well." Correctamundo, alert reader. There used to be a saying: "Bulls make money and bears make money, but hogs get slaughtered." I am not sure that was ever true, but it sure ain't now. The real story is that long-term investors who have some sense of proportion make money. Short-term investors who live and die by the sweep-second hand of the $300,000 watch get rich fast and poor fast and sometimes are slaughtered faster. I have no advice for them except that the next train may be bringing in someone a little younger who's a little faster on the draw and a lot hungrier, so they'd better enjoy their Gulfstream while they have it.
For the rest of us, the stock market is cheap on a price-earnings basis, profits are fabulous, Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Giuliani are far from being socialists and in the long run, both here and abroad, stocks are a lovely place to be. I have no idea what the S&P will be ten days from now, but I am confident it will be a lot higher ten years from now, and for most Americans, that's what we need to think about. The subprime and private equity and hedge fund dogs may bark, but the stock market caravan moves on.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"STUPID" INVESTORS, REJOICE!
Ben Stein. Fortune. New York: Sep 3, 2007. Vol. 156, Iss. 5; pg. 59
Copyright (c) 2007 Time Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this material may be duplicated or redisseminated without permission.
No one is too stupid to make money in the stock market. But there are many who are too smart to make money.
To make money, at least in the postwar world, all you have to do is buy the broad indexes domestically--both in the emerging world and in the developed world--and, to throw in a little certainty about your old age, maybe buy some annuities.
To lose money, pretend you're really, really clever, and that by reading financial journalism and watching CNBC, you can outguess the market day by day. Along with that, you must have absolutely no sense of proportion about money and the world at large.
For example, right now we are stewing over what everyone calls "the subprime mess" and going crazy, mourning all day and into the night--falling over ourselves to get all of the misery right, to paraphrase Evita. I'm writing this on Aug. 13, 2007, and in the past four or five weeks, the markets of the U.S. have lost some 7% of their value, or about $1 trillion.
But read on: The subprime mortgage world is about 15% of all mortgages, or $1.5 trillion worth, very roughly. About 10%--approximately $150 billion--is in arrears. Of that, something like half is in default and will likely be seized in foreclosure and sold. That comes to about $75 billion. Roughly half to two-thirds of that will be realized on liquidation, leaving a loss of maybe $37 billion. Not chump change by any means--but one-thirtieth, more or less, of what has been knocked off the stock market.
The "smart" investor nevertheless reads the papers, bails out, heads for the hills, and stocks up on canned foods. He gets a really big charge out of reading in the press that there are also problems in the mergers and acquisitions market and that some deals will not go through because there are problems raising the funds for the deal. He does not see that the total value of the U.S. major stock markets (the Wilshire 5000) is roughly $18 trillion. The value of the deals that have failed in the private equity world is in the tens of billions or less. The loss to investors--what the merger price was compared with the normalized premerger price--is in the billions. It's real money, and I could buy my wife some nice jewelry with it, but it's pennies in the national or global systems.
The "smart" investor also reads that the Fed has injected, say, $100 billion into the banking system in the last week or ten days, and says, "Aha! The whole country is vaporizing. Look how desperate the system is for money!" What he does not see is that the Fed is always either adding or subtracting liquidity and that recent moves are tiny in the context of a nation with a money supply in the range of $12 trillion. No, the "smart" investor is far too busy looking for reasons to run for cover and thinks he can outsmart long-term trends.
The stupid investor knows only a few basic facts: The economy has not had one real depression since 1941, a span of an amazing 66 years. In the roughly 60 rolling-ten-year periods since the end of World War II, the S&P 500's total return has exceeded the return on "risk-free" Treasury long-term bonds in all but four ten-year periods--the ones ending in 1974, 1977, 1978, and 2002. The first three of these were times of seriously flawed monetary policy that allowed stagflation, and the last one was on the heels of the tech crash and the worst peacetime terrorist attack in the history of the Western world.
The inert, lazy, couch potato investor (to use a phrase from my guru, Phil DeMuth, investment manager and friend par excellence) knows that despite wars, inflation, recession, gasoline shortages, housing crashes in various parts of the nation, riots in the streets, and wage-price controls, the S&P 500, with dividends reinvested, has yielded an average ten-year return of 243%, vs. 86% for the highest-grade bonds. That sounds pretty good to him.
The "smart" investor, in a bunker in the Montana wilderness, keeps his money in gold bullion. After all, he's heard that home prices are falling slightly nationwide and a lot in some areas (he ignores areas of rising prices like San Francisco and New York City). He says that this will discourage the consumer and lead to a severe, bottomless recession. He even has bald people on TV telling him he's right to worry.
The stupid investor, the guy who just lies on his couch, knows that the consumer is always about to stop buying and never quite does. Maybe someone in his bowling club has told him there has only been one year since 1959 when consumer spending fell--and that was barely, in 1980. Somehow, if the consumer could keep spending after the bursting of the tech bubble wiped out $7 trillion or so of wealth, maybe the consumer can keep spending even if the subprime "mess" wipes out roughly half of 1% of that tech-bubble loss and the stock market has a fit. And maybe he knows that, even if there is a recession, recessions rarely last more than two quarters, and the economy and the stock market revive mightily after that--and that buying stocks in a recession is a good idea, not a bad idea.
Now, the alert reader may at this point be saying, "Hey, that 'stupid' guy who's really smart is a long-term investor. That's why he's doing so well." Correctamundo, alert reader. There used to be a saying: "Bulls make money and bears make money, but hogs get slaughtered." I am not sure that was ever true, but it sure ain't now. The real story is that long-term investors who have some sense of proportion make money. Short-term investors who live and die by the sweep-second hand of the $300,000 watch get rich fast and poor fast and sometimes are slaughtered faster. I have no advice for them except that the next train may be bringing in someone a little younger who's a little faster on the draw and a lot hungrier, so they'd better enjoy their Gulfstream while they have it.
For the rest of us, the stock market is cheap on a price-earnings basis, profits are fabulous, Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Giuliani are far from being socialists and in the long run, both here and abroad, stocks are a lovely place to be. I have no idea what the S&P will be ten days from now, but I am confident it will be a lot higher ten years from now, and for most Americans, that's what we need to think about. The subprime and private equity and hedge fund dogs may bark, but the stock market caravan moves on.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
A serious topic
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day: Take Action
October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the United States. More than 25,000 children are stillborn in the United States every year leaving mothers, entire families and communities devastated. Estimates of the rate of occurrence of stillbirth make it at least as common as autism.
Stillbirth is not an intractable problem. Greater research would likely significantly reduce its incidence, but good research requires good data.
H.R. 5979: Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act is under consideration by Congress. This proposed bill would standardize stillbirth investigation and diagnosis, thus providing more data for the needed research. Better research means fewer children born still.
On October 15th, remember the thousands of unfinished children lost and the families who remain to grieve them. Honor them by taking action. Let's help pass H.R. 5979. Write to your congressman!!
October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the United States. More than 25,000 children are stillborn in the United States every year leaving mothers, entire families and communities devastated. Estimates of the rate of occurrence of stillbirth make it at least as common as autism.
Stillbirth is not an intractable problem. Greater research would likely significantly reduce its incidence, but good research requires good data.
H.R. 5979: Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act is under consideration by Congress. This proposed bill would standardize stillbirth investigation and diagnosis, thus providing more data for the needed research. Better research means fewer children born still.
On October 15th, remember the thousands of unfinished children lost and the families who remain to grieve them. Honor them by taking action. Let's help pass H.R. 5979. Write to your congressman!!
Thursday, October 02, 2008
I'm with Gigglechick - an undecided voter
The one blog I read on a regular basis, http://www.gigglechick.com/erin/blog/index.htm, is a personal blog of a woman my age who lives in NJ. She lives with/takes care of her chronically ill mother while also trying to work at home, doing web design for comedians (hence the "giggle" part of her blog's name). She has a pretty interesting and social life, and every day struggles that she is brave enough to post out there for all to see. So maybe I am nosy, bored, or I'm just trying to live vicariously through her single life, I don't know.
Anyway, as I fell asleep last night I thought I had mostly made up my mind about who to vote for. But there are definitely limitations on each of the candidates and what they will actually be able to accomplish in Washington, and I'm not sure I agree on their stands on several issues. (I guess that is how most of the Presidential elections have gone the past few years -- vote the lesser of the two evils and hope for the best.)
So I thought I would check in with the Giggle blog today and see where she stood on this. She's been a pretty fervent Hillary supporter, and I decided a while back that I would just agree to disagree with her politics... up to this point. Surprisingly, today Giggle says this on her blog, and I am in complete agreement:
"I hope that Palin does well tonight, not because I am rooting for her, but, because if she looks like a complete moron and gets devoured by Biden tonight, it just sets women back. I am a woman without a party at the moment."
Palin seems to me, and has from her introduction to the election campaign, a loose cannon. She doesn't know what she doesn't know and that is a dangerous place to be in for a second-in-command political candidate. She can prep all she wants for this debate tonight, but until I hear her respond to a question with a straight answer, and I can tell it's coming from her and not some talking point she memorized, I just can't be impressed. I saw a few minutes of one of her interviews with Katie Couric last night. When Katie asked her to give some examples of Supreme Court decisions besides Roe v. Wade that she disagreed with, her eyes literally GLAZED OVER and you could tell she had no idea what to say. Then her response was some non-answer about how not all the decisions of the Supreme Court are going to be popular with everyone... no shit.
I just hope tonight that she uses her charm and wit and smile as a backdrop for a showcase of some real knowledge and analysis of issues; in other words, I hope she speaks intelligently. Not that that alone would convince me to vote for her ticket. I'd also have to hear some concrete plans on how her administration could get our domestic problems taken care of, and not just in the short-term. I want her to do well tonight because I don't want our gender to be embarrassed. We have finally made some headway as professional women in this country and I hope she doesn't send us back 30 years by talking like a moron in front of 70 million people.
Anyway, as I fell asleep last night I thought I had mostly made up my mind about who to vote for. But there are definitely limitations on each of the candidates and what they will actually be able to accomplish in Washington, and I'm not sure I agree on their stands on several issues. (I guess that is how most of the Presidential elections have gone the past few years -- vote the lesser of the two evils and hope for the best.)
So I thought I would check in with the Giggle blog today and see where she stood on this. She's been a pretty fervent Hillary supporter, and I decided a while back that I would just agree to disagree with her politics... up to this point. Surprisingly, today Giggle says this on her blog, and I am in complete agreement:
"I hope that Palin does well tonight, not because I am rooting for her, but, because if she looks like a complete moron and gets devoured by Biden tonight, it just sets women back. I am a woman without a party at the moment."
Palin seems to me, and has from her introduction to the election campaign, a loose cannon. She doesn't know what she doesn't know and that is a dangerous place to be in for a second-in-command political candidate. She can prep all she wants for this debate tonight, but until I hear her respond to a question with a straight answer, and I can tell it's coming from her and not some talking point she memorized, I just can't be impressed. I saw a few minutes of one of her interviews with Katie Couric last night. When Katie asked her to give some examples of Supreme Court decisions besides Roe v. Wade that she disagreed with, her eyes literally GLAZED OVER and you could tell she had no idea what to say. Then her response was some non-answer about how not all the decisions of the Supreme Court are going to be popular with everyone... no shit.
I just hope tonight that she uses her charm and wit and smile as a backdrop for a showcase of some real knowledge and analysis of issues; in other words, I hope she speaks intelligently. Not that that alone would convince me to vote for her ticket. I'd also have to hear some concrete plans on how her administration could get our domestic problems taken care of, and not just in the short-term. I want her to do well tonight because I don't want our gender to be embarrassed. We have finally made some headway as professional women in this country and I hope she doesn't send us back 30 years by talking like a moron in front of 70 million people.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
This reminds me of "The Story of Pi" - only a better ending
Riding out Ike on an island, with a lion By ALLEN G. BREED, AP National Writer Tue Sep 16, 11:52 PM ET
BOLIVAR PENINSULA, Texas - Many years from now, a small group of Hurricane Ike survivors will probably still be telling the story of how, on the night the storm flattened their island, they took sanctuary in a church — with a lion.
The full-grown lion was from a local zoo, and the owner was trying to drive to safety with the animal when he saw cars and trucks stranded in the rising floodwaters. He knew he and the lion were in trouble.
He headed for the church and was met by a group of residents who helped the lion wade inside, where they locked it in a sanctuary as the storm raged. The water crept up to their waists, and two-by-fours came floating through broken windows. But the lion was as calm as a kitten.
When daylight came, everyone was still alive.
When daylight came, everyone was still alive.
"They worked pretty well together, actually," said the lion's owner, Michael Ray Kujawa. "When you have to swim, the lion doesn't care about eating nobody."
At the Baptist church on Bolivar Island where the lion spent the night, Richard Jones, a shrimper, said he wasn't afraid of the beast.
"That little old fella is just as tame as a kitten," Jones said.
After the storm passed, the lion's caretakers fed it pork roast to keep it happy.
National Guardsmen dropping off food and water lined up Tuesday in the choir loft to get a glimpse of the lion, and the soldiers jumped back when the lion looked up from its perch on the altar and snarled.
Jones said he hadn't stepped foot in a church in the 40 years he has lived on this spit of land. And he wasn't ready to call his survival divine intervention. "I drink beer and chase women, gamble, cuss," Jones said. "You can't call that religion. I'm either too good, the devil won't have me, or I'm so bad the Good Lord won't take me. That's a good toss-up."
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