[W]hen I have to write all the time, the last thing I want to do is write. This is true of almost every writer I know. We all love writing, but when someone makes you do it, it kind of sucks. However, I did loads of writing in trigonometry! If I had been a math major, I would have written about twelve books by the time I graduated. In retrospect, I see this is a GENIUS IDEA and encourage you all to think about it!
Category Archives: Life
A surprising e-mail conversation
Two weeks ago, I saw a review on our Weddings page of a book called “Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality” (HarperCollins). Without much thought, I blurted out in a tweet that it sounded pretty stupid to me. But that started a surprising e-mail conversation with one of the authors, Christopher Ryan. It’s interesting not only for what Mr. Ryan says, but as an example of the way patient authors can profitably engage even caustic critics[.]
Weekend: Dragon Boats & Chicken Satay
Checked out the Dragon Boat Festival on Saturday and took some photos around False Creek. The sun came out and reminded us why it’s great to be a Vancouverite.
This looks like a drawing (I mean, “architectural rendering” ;-)) to me. Anyone else?
Here’s the Slideshow.
And then I made Chicken Satay (which, heh, I guess is kind of a theme, albeit unintentional):
Check out that presentation. Bed of lettuce! Grill marks!
I used this recipe from Rasa Malaysia for the marinade, and it was delicious.
To be honest, I made a few substitutions because I just used what I had on hand. Regardless, it still tasted fantastic. But I think I’ll stock up on the missing ingredients for next time (and there will be a next time).
Substitutions:
- dried lemongrass (in lieu of fresh)
- scallions (in lieu of shallots)
- molasses (in lieu of kecap manis)
- fish sauce (in lieu of oyster sauce)
I’d like to thank the interwebs for the suggestion of molasses. I do think it was the molasses (sweet, thick) / fish sauce (salty) combination that made the subs work here.
All work is equally honorable
It may seem perverse that I compare my writing to plumbing, an occupation not regarded as high-end. But to me all work is equally honorable, all crafts an astonishment when they are performed with skill and self-respect. Just as I go to work every day with my tools, which are words, the plumber arrives with his kit of wrenches and washers, and afterward the pipes have been so adroitly fitted together that they don’t leak. I don’t want any of my sentences to leak. The fact that someone can make water come out of a faucet on the 10th floor strikes me as a feat no less remarkable than the construction of a clear declarative sentence.
Disappointed
The longer I procrastinate on returning phone calls and emails, the more guilty I feel about it. The guilt I feel causes me to avoid the issue further, which only leads to more guilt and more procrastination. It gets to the point where I don’t email someone for fear of reminding them that they emailed me and thus giving them a reason to be disappointed in me.
—Allie @ Hyperbole and a Half
The Only Way
[F]iction can sometimes be the only way to tell the truth.
Slacker
9:30 P.M. Dread resumption of office job in the morning. Regret all choices and circumstances that have led to necessity of having a day job. Recall A.O. Scott’s hilarious (yet sympathetic) indictment of Generation X in last week’s “Week in Review” piece on Sam Lipsyte’s The Ask. Track it down and reread. Reflect on the ultimate pointlessness of trying to escape the slacker mindset.
9:40 P.M. Begin drinking (bourbon).
Read it Wrong
I adored [Barbara Kingsolver’s The Lacuna], had previously decided not to pick it up because of bad reviews, then it was shortlisted and I decided to give it a try. And it was amazing– I want to shake the people who didn’t like it and tell them they read it wrong, but that wouldn’t be polite.
Of Another Order
Hanna, you ask why Matt would want to see the body in the casket. To me it seemed obvious, but I realize it’s not at all: … for most of Matt’s life, his dad has been absent. So there would be a particularly powerful need to discern that this absence was of another order.
Make up stories
I really wanted it to end at the hate. I have this fantasy that at my own funeral, people should only tell the truth and not make up stories about how I am the kind and charitable person that I am often not. (Anyone else share that?) I always righteously defend British newspapers, which do not observe the American habit of respecting the dead.
The Remainder Table 