Thirty-ten was harder. At this point, it's just freefall.Middle age? WHEEEEEEE!
November 26, 2008
November 17, 2008
Weekend at Burny's
I wanted to tell you about a fun party I attended in Southern California over the weekend, and I shall, but it is probably worth mentioning at the outset that during the duration of my stay in Orange County, the Apocalypse was raging on a hillside directly across from the one where I was staying.
So yeah. Apparently in California, stuff burns up.
We first noticed the Corona fire across the way from us on Saturday morning, and as the day wore on, the whole hill was engulfed. It closed highways, which kept many people away from the party, and as we watched the local news all day, we saw just how freaky and unreal the whole thing was. The fire was jumping across the highway. People were abandoning their cars. Trees were, well, they were exploding. I had to hear that from two different sources before I'd believe it. Exploding trees. I'm no scientist, but if you've got exploding trees, that might just account for your wildfire problem. I mean, it's probably worth checking out, at least.
The party itself was a lot of fun. It's an annual holiday shindig (called, appropriately enough, "Shindig") thrown by a group of people who have been friends for years, and one of whom was swell enough to invite me. I've been close friends with Monique for a long time, so it was nice to see her again in real, actual molecular form. (She recently helped me out tremendously by contributing something quite significant and very cool to the paperback edition of my book, which you will have to buy and read if you want to know more, plugga plugga plugga...)
Anyway, it was a fun party, the details of which I won't bore you with. I got to meet some people I'd only known online, made some new friends (which is always a little difficult for me, shy little bunny that I am), and most importantly buried the hatchet with someone with whom I should have reconciled years ago. I became quite blissfully impaired with strangely few consequences the following morning (aside from the wrinkles in the clothes I slept in, which I don't believe I've done since the blurry days of college), I got to dress fancy (although I'm still not entirely convinced that the outfit I chose for the "black and white" theme didn't make me resemble the love child of Johnny Cash and a clown-for-hire), and received (via the blind gift exchange) a bottle of local brew and a combination bottle opener/wooden dildo.
All that, plus the End of Days. Some people know how to throw a shindig.
So yeah. Apparently in California, stuff burns up.
We first noticed the Corona fire across the way from us on Saturday morning, and as the day wore on, the whole hill was engulfed. It closed highways, which kept many people away from the party, and as we watched the local news all day, we saw just how freaky and unreal the whole thing was. The fire was jumping across the highway. People were abandoning their cars. Trees were, well, they were exploding. I had to hear that from two different sources before I'd believe it. Exploding trees. I'm no scientist, but if you've got exploding trees, that might just account for your wildfire problem. I mean, it's probably worth checking out, at least.
The party itself was a lot of fun. It's an annual holiday shindig (called, appropriately enough, "Shindig") thrown by a group of people who have been friends for years, and one of whom was swell enough to invite me. I've been close friends with Monique for a long time, so it was nice to see her again in real, actual molecular form. (She recently helped me out tremendously by contributing something quite significant and very cool to the paperback edition of my book, which you will have to buy and read if you want to know more, plugga plugga plugga...)
Anyway, it was a fun party, the details of which I won't bore you with. I got to meet some people I'd only known online, made some new friends (which is always a little difficult for me, shy little bunny that I am), and most importantly buried the hatchet with someone with whom I should have reconciled years ago. I became quite blissfully impaired with strangely few consequences the following morning (aside from the wrinkles in the clothes I slept in, which I don't believe I've done since the blurry days of college), I got to dress fancy (although I'm still not entirely convinced that the outfit I chose for the "black and white" theme didn't make me resemble the love child of Johnny Cash and a clown-for-hire), and received (via the blind gift exchange) a bottle of local brew and a combination bottle opener/wooden dildo.
All that, plus the End of Days. Some people know how to throw a shindig.
November 14, 2008
Schuyler's next excellent adventure
(PRC press release)
PRC to Host Schuyler’s Monster Author Robert Rummel-Hudson in Booth #1031 at 2008 ASHA Convention
100 Free Copies of Schuyler’s Monster, A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter Offered to ASHA Conference Attendees
-----
Wooster, OH, November 17, 2008: Prentke Romich Company (PRC), the worldwide leader in alternative and augmentative communication (AAC) language systems and technology, invites ASHA attendees to meet author Robert Rummel-Hudson in Booth #1031 on Friday, November 21, and to enter PRC’s drawing for a free copy of his 2008 book, Schuyler’s Monster, A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter.
In the acclaimed memoir, Rummel-Hudson shares the story of his daughter Schuyler, now eight years old, who was born with a rare neurological brain disorder that prevents her from being able to speak. Using PRC’s Vantage™ Plus speech-output device, the high-spirited youngster is now able to communicate her thoughts and feelings at home and at school.
PRC will be giving away 100 copies of the best-selling book in a random drawing held Friday, November 21. ASHA attendees can enter the drawing by visiting PRC in Booth #1031 on Thursday, November 20, and completing an entry form. Rummel-Hudson will sign books on Friday between 10 am – noon and 3-5 pm. ASHA conference attendees can enter to receive a copy at the conference or are welcome to bring their own copy for the author to sign.
Visitors to the PRC booth also will see the newest of PRC’s AAC devices, Vantage™ Lite, a dedicated device designed for AAC beginners and those ready to advance toward fully independent augmented communication.
The second in PRC’s popular new line of “Lite” devices, Vantage Lite offers the same powerful language and communication features of PRC’s classic Vantage™ Plus but adds an array of hardware and software innovations, including:
About PRC
A 100% employee-owned company founded in 1966 and headquartered in Wooster, OH, PRC is a global leader in the development and manufacture of augmentative communication devices, computer access products, and other assistive technology for people with severe disabilities.
In addition to its powerful communication devices – ECO™-14, Vanguard™, Vantage™, SpringBoard™, and the new SpringBoard™ Lite and Vantage ™ Lite – PRC also provides a wide array of high-quality teaching and implementation tools, therapy materials, curriculum sequences, funding assistance, and training to speech-language pathologists, special educators, and the families of AAC communicators.
You can learn more about the book, Schuyler’s Monster, by visiting www.schuylersmonster.com. Learn more about the author by visiting his blog at www.schuylersmonsterblog.com.
For more information on PRC products and services, go to www.prentrom.com or call (800) 262-1984.
PRC to Host Schuyler’s Monster Author Robert Rummel-Hudson in Booth #1031 at 2008 ASHA Convention
100 Free Copies of Schuyler’s Monster, A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter Offered to ASHA Conference Attendees
-----
Wooster, OH, November 17, 2008: Prentke Romich Company (PRC), the worldwide leader in alternative and augmentative communication (AAC) language systems and technology, invites ASHA attendees to meet author Robert Rummel-Hudson in Booth #1031 on Friday, November 21, and to enter PRC’s drawing for a free copy of his 2008 book, Schuyler’s Monster, A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter.
In the acclaimed memoir, Rummel-Hudson shares the story of his daughter Schuyler, now eight years old, who was born with a rare neurological brain disorder that prevents her from being able to speak. Using PRC’s Vantage™ Plus speech-output device, the high-spirited youngster is now able to communicate her thoughts and feelings at home and at school.
PRC will be giving away 100 copies of the best-selling book in a random drawing held Friday, November 21. ASHA attendees can enter the drawing by visiting PRC in Booth #1031 on Thursday, November 20, and completing an entry form. Rummel-Hudson will sign books on Friday between 10 am – noon and 3-5 pm. ASHA conference attendees can enter to receive a copy at the conference or are welcome to bring their own copy for the author to sign.
Visitors to the PRC booth also will see the newest of PRC’s AAC devices, Vantage™ Lite, a dedicated device designed for AAC beginners and those ready to advance toward fully independent augmented communication.
The second in PRC’s popular new line of “Lite” devices, Vantage Lite offers the same powerful language and communication features of PRC’s classic Vantage™ Plus but adds an array of hardware and software innovations, including:
- Compact case with built-in handle for greater portability;
- “High Brightness” display with LED backlight and wide viewing angle;
- Magnesium frame that prevents damage from bumps and drops;
- Bluetooth® connectivity for computer access and wireless access;
- Integrated Bluetooth® phone interface, a PRC exclusive.
About PRC
A 100% employee-owned company founded in 1966 and headquartered in Wooster, OH, PRC is a global leader in the development and manufacture of augmentative communication devices, computer access products, and other assistive technology for people with severe disabilities.
In addition to its powerful communication devices – ECO™-14, Vanguard™, Vantage™, SpringBoard™, and the new SpringBoard™ Lite and Vantage ™ Lite – PRC also provides a wide array of high-quality teaching and implementation tools, therapy materials, curriculum sequences, funding assistance, and training to speech-language pathologists, special educators, and the families of AAC communicators.
You can learn more about the book, Schuyler’s Monster, by visiting www.schuylersmonster.com. Learn more about the author by visiting his blog at www.schuylersmonsterblog.com.
For more information on PRC products and services, go to www.prentrom.com or call (800) 262-1984.
November 11, 2008
November Eleventh
Strange Meeting
-- Wilfred Owen
It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,-
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
"Strange friend," I said, "here is no cause to mourn."
"None," said that other, "save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also, I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled,
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now . . ."
November 9, 2008
Bringing my fancy pants to Dayton
I visited the University of Dayton this past week, speaking to a couple of classes and then signing books and giving a presentation. I just wanted to take a moment and say that it was one of the best experiences to come out of this whole crazy book thing. Three days later, I'm still processing it.
There were a lot of memorable moments on my trip, but the thing that stays with me the most are the amazing students I met. The questions I got from students were of real depth, and the dialogues I had with them gave me a great deal to think about. I don't remember being that smart or that intellectually curious when I was in college, and I know I wasn't that well put-together. But then, my impressions of the University of Dayton were pretty much the same.
It's an impressive campus, with new facilities everywhere but still maintaining a sense of its history. UD is a Catholic university, run by the Marianists, who focus on issues of social justice and community, and it's clear that this focus permeates the thinking of the entire campus community. I was impressed by the level of commitment that the students maintained in building this spirit of community, both on campus and in the international service learning projects sponsored by the university.
So my thanks to Art and Tracey Jipson, as well as the Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work, not just for having me on campus, but for making me feel welcome (bordering on superstar; my ego may never recover) and for giving me the chance to meet so many students and share Schuyler's story with them. I met some amazing people, and I can't wait to return to Dayton. How many times do you hear that?
There were a lot of memorable moments on my trip, but the thing that stays with me the most are the amazing students I met. The questions I got from students were of real depth, and the dialogues I had with them gave me a great deal to think about. I don't remember being that smart or that intellectually curious when I was in college, and I know I wasn't that well put-together. But then, my impressions of the University of Dayton were pretty much the same.
It's an impressive campus, with new facilities everywhere but still maintaining a sense of its history. UD is a Catholic university, run by the Marianists, who focus on issues of social justice and community, and it's clear that this focus permeates the thinking of the entire campus community. I was impressed by the level of commitment that the students maintained in building this spirit of community, both on campus and in the international service learning projects sponsored by the university.
So my thanks to Art and Tracey Jipson, as well as the Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work, not just for having me on campus, but for making me feel welcome (bordering on superstar; my ego may never recover) and for giving me the chance to meet so many students and share Schuyler's story with them. I met some amazing people, and I can't wait to return to Dayton. How many times do you hear that?
November 4, 2008
Her world
In 2001, on the evening of September 11th, I sat in the dark while Julie cried and we both listened to the radio and the rumble of military jet fighters patrolling the skies of the east coast. I got up and went to Schuyler's room, scooped up my sleeping baby girl and brought her to sleep in our bed with us. And the thing I remember thinking was simply, "This is not the world I want my daughter to grow up in."
In the spring of 2003, on my lunch break, I walked into a cafeteria at the Yale Medical School with my friend Dana and sat, numb, as we watched the "shock & awe" bombing of Baghdad on CNN, surrounded by frightened students watching in near silence. And again, I thought of Schuyler, who was only months away from her monstrous diagnosis. I thought of her and the paranoid, grey world in which she was growing up, unaware of how much less certain it was soon to become for her. And again, it was not the world I wanted for her.
Tonight, twenty minutes ago, I watched the clock tick down to the polls closing on the west coast, and as soon as it hit zero, I saw the words on the screen as the networks pronounced Barack Obama the President-Elect of the United States. I watched the tears and laughter of people in Grant Park, white and black, as they watched history, REAL history being made. It wasn't just history stepping on them, squashing them under its cold boot like history has been doing since 2001. It was the history THEY made, the history that WE have made.
Now I sit here. I'm waiting for Barack Obama to come out and address the nation as the 44th president of the United States of America, and for the first time in the span of Schuyler's short life, I can say it, without hesitation and with a heart filled with anticipation and a sense of relief and rescue and possibility.
THIS is the world I want for my daughter. This one.
Busy week
On this historic day, I thought I would touch on the inevitable subject, the thing that's on everyone's mind today.
That's right. Let's talk about my upcoming public appearances.
Okay, yeah. I know.
Tomorrow I fly Dayton, Ohio to speak to some classes at the University of Dayton. I'll be giving a presentation Thursday evening, and if you live in the area, or close to the area, or in the general area of the area, I hope you'll come see me. You can watch me in my fancy pants speech-giving mode.
This coming Saturday, I'll be doing my last book signing for the hardcover edition, at a Barnes & Noble in Dallas. Schuyler will be there, signing books, and I really hope the folks I've met and talked to in the Dallas area will come by and see me.
Okay, so I'll see you in Ohio, and oh yeah, get your ass out to vote today. Unless you voted early, in which case, do with your ass as you please.
---
APPEARANCES
Guest Lecturer
University of Dayton
Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work
Thursday, November 6, 2008
6:00 - 9:00pm
Sears Recital Hall
300 College Park Avenue (map)
Dayton, OH 45409
Meet and listen to author and blogger, Robert Rummel-Hudson, talk about Life with Schuyler. Mr. Rummel-Hudson is the author of Schuyler's Monster: A Father's Journey with his Wordless Daughter. Schuyler was diagnosed with a rare neurological impairment that prevents her from speaking. The book documents the various challenges and moments of joy that accompanied their journey. Pizza will be available at 6pm in front of the Recital Hall prior to the presentation.
Book Signing
Saturday, November 8, 2008
1:00 pm
Barnes & Noble - Prestonwood Center (map)
5301 Belt Line Road
Dallas, TX 75254
972.980.0853
That's right. Let's talk about my upcoming public appearances.
Okay, yeah. I know.
Tomorrow I fly Dayton, Ohio to speak to some classes at the University of Dayton. I'll be giving a presentation Thursday evening, and if you live in the area, or close to the area, or in the general area of the area, I hope you'll come see me. You can watch me in my fancy pants speech-giving mode.
This coming Saturday, I'll be doing my last book signing for the hardcover edition, at a Barnes & Noble in Dallas. Schuyler will be there, signing books, and I really hope the folks I've met and talked to in the Dallas area will come by and see me.
Okay, so I'll see you in Ohio, and oh yeah, get your ass out to vote today. Unless you voted early, in which case, do with your ass as you please.
---
APPEARANCES
Guest Lecturer
University of Dayton
Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work
Thursday, November 6, 2008
6:00 - 9:00pm
Sears Recital Hall
300 College Park Avenue (map)
Dayton, OH 45409
Meet and listen to author and blogger, Robert Rummel-Hudson, talk about Life with Schuyler. Mr. Rummel-Hudson is the author of Schuyler's Monster: A Father's Journey with his Wordless Daughter. Schuyler was diagnosed with a rare neurological impairment that prevents her from speaking. The book documents the various challenges and moments of joy that accompanied their journey. Pizza will be available at 6pm in front of the Recital Hall prior to the presentation.
Book Signing
Saturday, November 8, 2008
1:00 pm
Barnes & Noble - Prestonwood Center (map)
5301 Belt Line Road
Dallas, TX 75254
972.980.0853
November 3, 2008
It's time.
I voted last week, as evidenced by my little "My vote counted" sticker. I joked a lot about how, when I voted for Obama in the most conservative voting county in Texas, I half expected the tornado sirens to go off, but the truth is that even here, there are a lot of Obama voters, judging from the yard signs and bumper stickers I've been seeing.
I don't think these are secret Democrats who have been tempted out of hiding. I suspect a lot of them are Republicans and Independents (like me, actually; it's been at least two election cycles since I've self-identified as a Democrat) who have seen an opportunity to do something different, before it's too late. I suspect there are a lot of people like myself who are afraid that if things keep going on the track they're going, this might be the last election where we actually choose a president rather than a local warlord. Parsing this election in terms of the fall of civilization too hyperbolic for you? Well, yeah, me too, probably, but still. As The Daily Show put it a few weeks ago, I sometimes think that Bush isn't just trying to become the worst president ever, but possibly the last.
Here's the thing, though. I have friends who are not only McCain supporters, but hard-core, right-wing, blood-red conservative Republicans. No, it's true. In fact, considering what a dick I can be about politics and religion, it's surprising how many of those friends I actually have. And I don't think they're deluded or suffering from a head injury. I think they're wrong, of course. But then, I suspect a lot of people think I'm wrong about a great many things. They stick around anyway, though, possibly for the same reason that some people watch auto racing from the safe seats in the back. What matters is that they are there. They remain my friends, and they care about their country.
You've probably heard a lot about how this is the most important election in this country since the Civil War, and that if you don't vote, the ghost of George Washington is going to show up in your bedroom late Wednesday night and poke you in the eye. I suspect that it's true, or mostly true, anyway. Well, maybe not the ghost part, as cool as that would be. But it does feel like we're at a point in our history where the high school textbooks of the future will start a new chapter.
Regardless of the outcome, regardless of your politics, and no matter how freaky you are about your position or how apathetic you might have become about the whole thing, go vote tomorrow. Go exercise maybe the one governing process the founding fathers gave you to participate in as a citizen that isn't completely fucked up now. Be a part of history, one way or the other.
-----
Edited to add: I just removed Google Ads from my site, due to the fact that California readers were being treated to a "Yes on Prop 8" ad on my site without my approval or even my knowledge. Thanks, Google. That was a pretty vile thing to do there. We're done, you and I.
Yay to the longtime reader who pointed it out to me in email. Boo to that same reader for asking why I'm opposed to gay marriage and in favor of writing discrimination into the constitution. ("I was very, very surprised and disappointed to discover that.") I mean, come on.
October 31, 2008
My Beloved Monster
Halloween 2008
Sometimes, even in the midst of our fun, I catch a moment on camera that I don't even really notice until I'm looking at the photos later. For just a second, the camera catches Schuyler in what appears to be a moment of melancholy, and for that instant, I wonder if she and I share some of the sadness, even though I try to take it away from her and make it all my own.
If she does feel any of that sadness (and sometimes I think, "How could she not?"), it's fleeting. In a lot of ways we are the same, she and I. We both feel sadness sometimes, and we both internalize it almost completely.
But she deals with it better, I think, puts it away faster and buries it deeper, smothers it with her love without limits, her unconditional love, her love without fear. In that way, Schuyler is free. It's one of the many things she still has to teach me.
My beloved monster and me
We go everywhere together
Wearing a raincoat that has four sleeves
Gets us through all kinds of weather
She will always be the only thing
That comes between me and the awful sting
That comes from living in a world that's so damn mean
-- Eels
October 29, 2008
Story in Plano Profile
Plano Profile, "Author Robert Rummel-Hudson moves his family to Plano for his special-needs daughter"
by Britney Porter
"Schuyler is a princess whose story is unlike most, and unlike most fairy tales, the monster in her story is one she cannot see or touch or even run away from. It is Bilateral Perisylvian Polymicrogyria (BPP), a rare neurological disorder that affects her speech, and after five years of doctors visits and one alarming parent-teacher conference at a school in Austin, Robert Rummel-Hudson and his wife Julie moved to Plano to try to slay the beast.
"Read the entire story!"
by Britney Porter
"Schuyler is a princess whose story is unlike most, and unlike most fairy tales, the monster in her story is one she cannot see or touch or even run away from. It is Bilateral Perisylvian Polymicrogyria (BPP), a rare neurological disorder that affects her speech, and after five years of doctors visits and one alarming parent-teacher conference at a school in Austin, Robert Rummel-Hudson and his wife Julie moved to Plano to try to slay the beast.
"Read the entire story!"
October 28, 2008
God can wait a little longer
It started innocently enough. Schuyler came home from school with a little sticker on her device. That's not unusual; it usually has about half a dozen or so stickers on its case at any given time. This one was a little different, however, and it gave us pause.
It was an angel.
We didn't get too worked up about it, partly because we try not to be THOSE earnest, humorless Whole Foods liberals. I'm sure that whoever gave it to her didn't even think about it, much less set out to somehow evangelize to our daughter. Also, Schuyler thought it was a fairy anyway, so we even got to dodge the explanation.
It did start a larger discussion with Schuyler, though, about religion and what to say to anyone who decides to take it upon themselves to save our kid's immortal soul. It's happened in front of us a few times, after all, and so it's only logical to expect it to happen when she's at school or otherwise away from us.
Here's the thing. I don't care if Schuyler learns about or even buys into a belief system other than ours. In fact, Julie's no-bullshit Atheism conflicts pretty strongly with my own metaphor-laden Agnosticism. (And please, I beg of you, before you start asking what's the difference or making snotty little remarks about how they are basically the same, please do me and yourself a favor and go read up. Seriously. Your hungry brain will thank you.) We make it work just fine because we don't need to have a monolithic belief system in our home. We intend to make sure that Schuyler gets a good, relatively balanced overview of the belief systems of the world.
But not yet. Not now. Schuyler isn't ready. I know there are people out there who took their eight-year-olds to see The Passion of the Christ (wackadoos), and plenty of parents send their young kids to Sunday school. But here's the thing about that. These are parents who have chosen to raise their kids within their own belief system, with the intention of their kids adopting that belief system for themselves. And that's great for them. I have no problem with that.
I guess in a sense, by raising Schuyler in what is technically an Agnostic environment, I'm kind of doing the same thing, in my own way. But it is the absence of Big-F-Faith and restrictive doctrine that will give her paths of her own choosing down the road. Julie wants to expose Schuyler to other religions as well. (Sometimes I think Julie is sort of a crappy Atheist, honestly.) When Schuyler is ready, we'll open up a whole world for her. It sounds like fun to me.
But not now. Schuyler is of an age, or perhaps more importantly of a stage of development, in which she still takes things at face value. Does she understand the difference between Belief and Fact? I don't know, but I don't really think so. Maybe soon, but for now, she's still very susceptible to suggestion. It's tricky, but for now, this is the right thing to do for her. We choose to delay that conversation a little longer, rather than confuse her now, which is exactly what we would do.
We'll have that conversation with her one day, and probably sooner than later, but it'll happen when we think she's ready. So for the time being, if anyone tries to talk to her about God or church or Jesus (sadly, probably the only red flag words that she really needs to beware of in Plano, Texas), she knows to simply say "No, thank you." That's how it's going to be for now. She knows how to say no to drugs and Jesus.
Her one dalliance in the world of religion? She has chosen to be the Devil for Halloween. Well, the Chicky Devil, anyway. That ought to raise a few eyebrows. Not to worry, though. Lest anyone see fit to try to save her little soul, she'll be protected by a 6'2" chicken, plus whatever Julie comes up with. (She's working on a bat costume, although we'll see if her ambition lasts all the way through the final stages of production.)
I don't care how devout you are. Being chided by a giant chicken won't be fun. Don't try me.
It was an angel.
We didn't get too worked up about it, partly because we try not to be THOSE earnest, humorless Whole Foods liberals. I'm sure that whoever gave it to her didn't even think about it, much less set out to somehow evangelize to our daughter. Also, Schuyler thought it was a fairy anyway, so we even got to dodge the explanation.
It did start a larger discussion with Schuyler, though, about religion and what to say to anyone who decides to take it upon themselves to save our kid's immortal soul. It's happened in front of us a few times, after all, and so it's only logical to expect it to happen when she's at school or otherwise away from us.
Here's the thing. I don't care if Schuyler learns about or even buys into a belief system other than ours. In fact, Julie's no-bullshit Atheism conflicts pretty strongly with my own metaphor-laden Agnosticism. (And please, I beg of you, before you start asking what's the difference or making snotty little remarks about how they are basically the same, please do me and yourself a favor and go read up. Seriously. Your hungry brain will thank you.) We make it work just fine because we don't need to have a monolithic belief system in our home. We intend to make sure that Schuyler gets a good, relatively balanced overview of the belief systems of the world.
But not yet. Not now. Schuyler isn't ready. I know there are people out there who took their eight-year-olds to see The Passion of the Christ (wackadoos), and plenty of parents send their young kids to Sunday school. But here's the thing about that. These are parents who have chosen to raise their kids within their own belief system, with the intention of their kids adopting that belief system for themselves. And that's great for them. I have no problem with that.
I guess in a sense, by raising Schuyler in what is technically an Agnostic environment, I'm kind of doing the same thing, in my own way. But it is the absence of Big-F-Faith and restrictive doctrine that will give her paths of her own choosing down the road. Julie wants to expose Schuyler to other religions as well. (Sometimes I think Julie is sort of a crappy Atheist, honestly.) When Schuyler is ready, we'll open up a whole world for her. It sounds like fun to me.
But not now. Schuyler is of an age, or perhaps more importantly of a stage of development, in which she still takes things at face value. Does she understand the difference between Belief and Fact? I don't know, but I don't really think so. Maybe soon, but for now, she's still very susceptible to suggestion. It's tricky, but for now, this is the right thing to do for her. We choose to delay that conversation a little longer, rather than confuse her now, which is exactly what we would do.
We'll have that conversation with her one day, and probably sooner than later, but it'll happen when we think she's ready. So for the time being, if anyone tries to talk to her about God or church or Jesus (sadly, probably the only red flag words that she really needs to beware of in Plano, Texas), she knows to simply say "No, thank you." That's how it's going to be for now. She knows how to say no to drugs and Jesus.
Her one dalliance in the world of religion? She has chosen to be the Devil for Halloween. Well, the Chicky Devil, anyway. That ought to raise a few eyebrows. Not to worry, though. Lest anyone see fit to try to save her little soul, she'll be protected by a 6'2" chicken, plus whatever Julie comes up with. (She's working on a bat costume, although we'll see if her ambition lasts all the way through the final stages of production.)
I don't care how devout you are. Being chided by a giant chicken won't be fun. Don't try me.
October 27, 2008
Appearance at the University of Dayton
Guest Lecturer
University of Dayton
Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work
Thursday, November 6, 2008
6:00 - 9:00pm
Sears Recital Hall
300 College Park Avenue
Dayton, OH 45409
FIGHTING MONSTERS WITH RUBBER SWORDS — Robert Rummel-Hudson has a daughter who hears and understands everything but cannot speak. He has faced the challenges of finding a good education for his daughter and a supportive community, as well as the challenge of raising a special needs child. Rummel-Hudson will discuss those challenges and the value of a supportive community at 6:30 p.m. Thursday, Nov. 6, in the Sears Recital Hall in the Jesse Philips Humanities Center. It is free and open to the public. Rummel-Hudson wrote Schuyler's Monster: A Father's Journey with His Wordless Daughter, about his daughter.
"Robert Rummel-Hudson is brave enough to reveal the damage the discovery of his child's condition did to his marriage and to his own sense of self. He manages to repair some of the damage through close involvement with Schuyler and vigorous campaigning on her behalf. His memoir is honest, often painful and deeply personal," said Charlotte Moore, author of George & Sam, a book about raising two autistic children. UD's Center for Social Concern, College of Arts and Sciences, criminal justice studies and School of Education and Allied Professions are sponsoring the event.
For more information, contact Director of UD Criminal Justice Studies program Art Jipson at 937-229-2153.
University of Dayton
Department of Sociology, Anthropology and Social Work
Thursday, November 6, 2008
6:00 - 9:00pm
Sears Recital Hall
300 College Park Avenue
Dayton, OH 45409
FIGHTING MONSTERS WITH RUBBER SWORDS — Robert Rummel-Hudson has a daughter who hears and understands everything but cannot speak. He has faced the challenges of finding a good education for his daughter and a supportive community, as well as the challenge of raising a special needs child. Rummel-Hudson will discuss those challenges and the value of a supportive community at 6:30 p.m. Thursday, Nov. 6, in the Sears Recital Hall in the Jesse Philips Humanities Center. It is free and open to the public. Rummel-Hudson wrote Schuyler's Monster: A Father's Journey with His Wordless Daughter, about his daughter.
"Robert Rummel-Hudson is brave enough to reveal the damage the discovery of his child's condition did to his marriage and to his own sense of self. He manages to repair some of the damage through close involvement with Schuyler and vigorous campaigning on her behalf. His memoir is honest, often painful and deeply personal," said Charlotte Moore, author of George & Sam, a book about raising two autistic children. UD's Center for Social Concern, College of Arts and Sciences, criminal justice studies and School of Education and Allied Professions are sponsoring the event.
For more information, contact Director of UD Criminal Justice Studies program Art Jipson at 937-229-2153.
October 25, 2008
How do you like my kid NOW?
Schuyler received her first actual report card today. While she does have a modified curriculum due to her speech output device, this report comes from her mainstream third grade teacher and reflects the mainstream curriculum classwork she's doing.
This is the same little girl about whom some therapists and teachers in her previous schools gently suggested that mainstreaming might not even be possible.
An 89. That's either a B+ or an A, depending on your school's scoring system.
Well, everyone likes being right sometimes. Where Schuyler is concerned, every time we're proven right for believing she was capable of doing great things if only given the right educational tools and setting, I feel ten feet tall.
No, twenty.
This is the same little girl about whom some therapists and teachers in her previous schools gently suggested that mainstreaming might not even be possible.
Student: Rummel-Hudson, Schuyler
Grade: 03
TOTAL LANGUAGE ARTS GRADE:
84
Reading:
88
Language/Composition (Writing, grammar, spelling):
80
Handwriting:
Satisfactory
MATHEMATICS:
86
INTEGRATED CURRICULUM (Science, social studies, health):
96
CUMULATIVE AVERAGE:
89
An 89. That's either a B+ or an A, depending on your school's scoring system.
Well, everyone likes being right sometimes. Where Schuyler is concerned, every time we're proven right for believing she was capable of doing great things if only given the right educational tools and setting, I feel ten feet tall.
No, twenty.
October 19, 2008
I'm glad someone finally said it.
"I'm also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the party say. And it is permitted to be said such things as, 'Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim.' Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer's no, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, 'He's a Muslim and he might be associated with terrorists.' This is not the way we should be doing it in America.
"I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son's grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards--Purple Heart, Bronze Star--showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old. And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn't have a Christian cross, it didn't have the Star of David, it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life."
October 17, 2008
How Things Are
Ever since I got back from Nashville, and even shortly before I got there, something has been on my mind, repeating itself like a mantra.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.
When I look at this book I've written, when I see how well it has done and how many people have gotten something from it, when I speak at festivals and conferences and bookstores about it, when I drive the ridiculous car it helped to buy and when I meet writers I admire because of it, when we get to put money away for Schuyler's future and rest a little bit easier, when all these good things happen to me because of this book, it still doesn't change what the book is, or why I wrote it, or what it means that it was ever a story for me to tell at all.
I look at the cover of that book and I see that innocent little girl broken by a bitter god, and for all the great things that have sprung from the book, it nevertheless is still true.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.
I have new friends, mostly because of the book. I have old friends, many of whom have disappeared, some of them also because of the book, others for reasons known only to themselves. I have a new town which isn't me but isn't bad. I'm far from people who mean a great deal to me, but I'm in the place a need to be for Schuyler, and I'm not just okay with that, I'm grateful. Very grateful that such a school and such teachers were here waiting for Schuyler.
But still. This isn't how it's supposed to be.
Most of all, I look at Schuyler. And I know this isn't the way her life was supposed to work out.
We go to parent/teacher conferences like the one we attended earlier today. We spend time just trying to determine how exactly Schuyler will even be able to take the standardized tests that her academic future depends on, tests designed to ensure a certain amount of conformity amongst kids in whose world Schuyler will never entirely exist.
She works so hard, and she succeeds a lot, but she still might not make it, she might not reach the arbitrary standards set by our educational system. Schuyler's life story remains mostly unwritten, and mine is largely written but not in the direction I would have ever chosen. And she's lucky, and I'm lucky, and I know that. I'm a different, better person because of Schuyler and what we've all been through with her, and I don't want to be the person I was before. I don't much care for him, either.
But sometimes, when the nights are unusually quiet like tonight, and when I allow myself to imagine the world the way I thought it could have been, Schuyler's world, the way it should have been, the way she deserves for it to have been, I can't escape the thought.
This isn't how it's supposed to be. And I'm sorry, but sometimes it pisses me off.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.
When I look at this book I've written, when I see how well it has done and how many people have gotten something from it, when I speak at festivals and conferences and bookstores about it, when I drive the ridiculous car it helped to buy and when I meet writers I admire because of it, when we get to put money away for Schuyler's future and rest a little bit easier, when all these good things happen to me because of this book, it still doesn't change what the book is, or why I wrote it, or what it means that it was ever a story for me to tell at all.
I look at the cover of that book and I see that innocent little girl broken by a bitter god, and for all the great things that have sprung from the book, it nevertheless is still true.
This isn't how it's supposed to be.
I have new friends, mostly because of the book. I have old friends, many of whom have disappeared, some of them also because of the book, others for reasons known only to themselves. I have a new town which isn't me but isn't bad. I'm far from people who mean a great deal to me, but I'm in the place a need to be for Schuyler, and I'm not just okay with that, I'm grateful. Very grateful that such a school and such teachers were here waiting for Schuyler.
But still. This isn't how it's supposed to be.
Most of all, I look at Schuyler. And I know this isn't the way her life was supposed to work out.
We go to parent/teacher conferences like the one we attended earlier today. We spend time just trying to determine how exactly Schuyler will even be able to take the standardized tests that her academic future depends on, tests designed to ensure a certain amount of conformity amongst kids in whose world Schuyler will never entirely exist.
She works so hard, and she succeeds a lot, but she still might not make it, she might not reach the arbitrary standards set by our educational system. Schuyler's life story remains mostly unwritten, and mine is largely written but not in the direction I would have ever chosen. And she's lucky, and I'm lucky, and I know that. I'm a different, better person because of Schuyler and what we've all been through with her, and I don't want to be the person I was before. I don't much care for him, either.
But sometimes, when the nights are unusually quiet like tonight, and when I allow myself to imagine the world the way I thought it could have been, Schuyler's world, the way it should have been, the way she deserves for it to have been, I can't escape the thought.
This isn't how it's supposed to be. And I'm sorry, but sometimes it pisses me off.
October 15, 2008
F-Bombing the Senate Chamber
So let me get the best part out of the way. I said "fuck" in the Tennessee State Senate Chamber, with an audience looking on. And I did it on purpose.
I'm not going to try to describe the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, where I was last week. Suffice it to say, it was like heaven for book nerds. I was one of over two hundred authors attending and presenting, and I have to confess, I did get a little drunk on the golden aura that seemed to project out from the name tag hanging from my neck, the simple white badge that only the authors got. Everyone perked up when I walked by, security guards at the legislative buildings let me walk through while other people got searched, and in general, this simple little white lanyard conferred upon its wearer the very fanciest fancy pants of all.
Simply stated, it was a fantastic weekend. Nashville is extremely cool. I realized Friday night while exploring the downtown area that Nashville really is exactly what Austin has been trying to be for a long time. It has a truly amazing music scene and an acute sense of history, and it also has a real and vibrant literary scene that other cities should envy. The book festival is just one manifestation of that.
I met some amazing writers. There was Laurel Snyder who signed a copy of Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains for Schuyler and whose creepy and perfect Inside the Slidy Diner made me wish Schuyler were still young enough for picture books.
I spent time talking to the fascinating Sallie Lowenstein, whose desire for creative control over her books led her to found Lion Stone Books, an independent publisher whose projects reflect her passion and her creativity. I picked up In the Company of Whispers, which defies description except to say that it is a beautiful book and like nothing else I've ever seen or read.
One of the greatest pleasures was meeting Sigourney Cheek, author of Patient Siggy: Hope and Healing in Cyberspace) and the other writer on my panel discussion. I had no idea what to expect, but she was serious about her work, unbelievably gracious to me, and extremely intelligent. Her perspective on writing and particularly on memoir related to personal struggle gave the presentation a real depth.
You know, right up until I said "fuck" in my reading.
The panel was run by an exceptional moderator, Lacey Galbraith from Swift Book Promotion in Nashville. I got to spend a lot of time with Lacey and Swift Book Promotion president Ginna Foster; they took pity on poor shy me and spent the better part of Saturday evening in my company. I can't tell you how much fun they were, or how much I appreciate their friendship.
The most unexpected and interesting encounter came on Saturday afternoon. With so many presentations going on at the same time, there was a tough choice to make every hour or so. I wanted to go hear Rick Bragg's presentation, but one of my favorite writers for public radio, Sandra Tsing Loh, was speaking at the same time, so I bailed on the gigantic Braggfest (where hundreds of people were lining up half an hour before) and found myself on the front row of Sandra's high energy performance. If you've never seen her and you get the chance, do it. Her new book, Mother on Fire: A True Motherf%#$@ Story About Parenting!, is based on a stage performance she does, and it is incredibly funny and manic. I was exhausted just watching her, although it should be noted that I get tired easily these days. Also, get off my lawn.
Anyway, as I sat there listening, she began talking about the cause that has been driving her of late, one about which she feels passionately and for which very few people are working. It turns out that Sandra Tsing Loh is an enthusiastic advocate for public schools (in her case, the schools of Los Angeles Unified). Considering how much advocacy I've engaged in for public schools (from a special needs perspective), I suddenly felt like my attendance at this presentation was, well, sort of fated.
After each presentation, the authors were escorted to a special area to sign our books, and that's where I got to actually meet Sandra Tsing Loh and tell her my story. This turned out to be easier and less fanboyish than I'd feared, because (insert a little choir singing "ahhhh!") I was wearing the Nametag of Authorial Wonderfulness and my pants were transformed into exquisite fanciness. She immediately treated me like a colleague, and got very excited when I told her my story. She had her publicist run over to the table to buy my book so she could have me sign it, and she asked for my email address so she could contact me later, possibly to talk again when she appears in Dallas in the near future.
"I'm so happy to see another public figure advocating for public schools," she said. "There aren't very many of us, you know."
Public figure. My ego began eating Tokyo at that point.
So yeah, I had a good time.
(Incidentally, about that F-bomb I dropped in the Senate Chamber. Consider that I also managed to get Disney's Wondertime magazine to print the word "asshole"; clearly I'm all about tainting hallowed institutions. But this wasn't just a random, Tourettesian verbal explosion. No, even better, it was part of my reading, from the chapter of Schuyler's Monster in which I share the letter I wrote to Schuyler on Christmas Day of 2004. So don't think I'm just a random vulgarian. Oh no, I was reading from a letter to my five-year-old daughter in which I use the word "fuck". I am Klassy with a K.)
All of this is my long-winded way of expressing my thanks to everyone involved in running the Southern Festival of Books for an amazing festival, particularly to Margie Maddux Newman, Serenity Gerbman and Lacey Cook. I'll have to get busy on my next book, because I want to come back. There are still so many obscenities left with which to foul your legislative halls.
I'm not going to try to describe the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, where I was last week. Suffice it to say, it was like heaven for book nerds. I was one of over two hundred authors attending and presenting, and I have to confess, I did get a little drunk on the golden aura that seemed to project out from the name tag hanging from my neck, the simple white badge that only the authors got. Everyone perked up when I walked by, security guards at the legislative buildings let me walk through while other people got searched, and in general, this simple little white lanyard conferred upon its wearer the very fanciest fancy pants of all.
Simply stated, it was a fantastic weekend. Nashville is extremely cool. I realized Friday night while exploring the downtown area that Nashville really is exactly what Austin has been trying to be for a long time. It has a truly amazing music scene and an acute sense of history, and it also has a real and vibrant literary scene that other cities should envy. The book festival is just one manifestation of that.
I met some amazing writers. There was Laurel Snyder who signed a copy of Up and Down the Scratchy Mountains for Schuyler and whose creepy and perfect Inside the Slidy Diner made me wish Schuyler were still young enough for picture books.
I spent time talking to the fascinating Sallie Lowenstein, whose desire for creative control over her books led her to found Lion Stone Books, an independent publisher whose projects reflect her passion and her creativity. I picked up In the Company of Whispers, which defies description except to say that it is a beautiful book and like nothing else I've ever seen or read.
One of the greatest pleasures was meeting Sigourney Cheek, author of Patient Siggy: Hope and Healing in Cyberspace) and the other writer on my panel discussion. I had no idea what to expect, but she was serious about her work, unbelievably gracious to me, and extremely intelligent. Her perspective on writing and particularly on memoir related to personal struggle gave the presentation a real depth.
You know, right up until I said "fuck" in my reading.
The panel was run by an exceptional moderator, Lacey Galbraith from Swift Book Promotion in Nashville. I got to spend a lot of time with Lacey and Swift Book Promotion president Ginna Foster; they took pity on poor shy me and spent the better part of Saturday evening in my company. I can't tell you how much fun they were, or how much I appreciate their friendship.
The most unexpected and interesting encounter came on Saturday afternoon. With so many presentations going on at the same time, there was a tough choice to make every hour or so. I wanted to go hear Rick Bragg's presentation, but one of my favorite writers for public radio, Sandra Tsing Loh, was speaking at the same time, so I bailed on the gigantic Braggfest (where hundreds of people were lining up half an hour before) and found myself on the front row of Sandra's high energy performance. If you've never seen her and you get the chance, do it. Her new book, Mother on Fire: A True Motherf%#$@ Story About Parenting!, is based on a stage performance she does, and it is incredibly funny and manic. I was exhausted just watching her, although it should be noted that I get tired easily these days. Also, get off my lawn.
Anyway, as I sat there listening, she began talking about the cause that has been driving her of late, one about which she feels passionately and for which very few people are working. It turns out that Sandra Tsing Loh is an enthusiastic advocate for public schools (in her case, the schools of Los Angeles Unified). Considering how much advocacy I've engaged in for public schools (from a special needs perspective), I suddenly felt like my attendance at this presentation was, well, sort of fated.
After each presentation, the authors were escorted to a special area to sign our books, and that's where I got to actually meet Sandra Tsing Loh and tell her my story. This turned out to be easier and less fanboyish than I'd feared, because (insert a little choir singing "ahhhh!") I was wearing the Nametag of Authorial Wonderfulness and my pants were transformed into exquisite fanciness. She immediately treated me like a colleague, and got very excited when I told her my story. She had her publicist run over to the table to buy my book so she could have me sign it, and she asked for my email address so she could contact me later, possibly to talk again when she appears in Dallas in the near future.
"I'm so happy to see another public figure advocating for public schools," she said. "There aren't very many of us, you know."
Public figure. My ego began eating Tokyo at that point.
So yeah, I had a good time.
(Incidentally, about that F-bomb I dropped in the Senate Chamber. Consider that I also managed to get Disney's Wondertime magazine to print the word "asshole"; clearly I'm all about tainting hallowed institutions. But this wasn't just a random, Tourettesian verbal explosion. No, even better, it was part of my reading, from the chapter of Schuyler's Monster in which I share the letter I wrote to Schuyler on Christmas Day of 2004. So don't think I'm just a random vulgarian. Oh no, I was reading from a letter to my five-year-old daughter in which I use the word "fuck". I am Klassy with a K.)
All of this is my long-winded way of expressing my thanks to everyone involved in running the Southern Festival of Books for an amazing festival, particularly to Margie Maddux Newman, Serenity Gerbman and Lacey Cook. I'll have to get busy on my next book, because I want to come back. There are still so many obscenities left with which to foul your legislative halls.
October 9, 2008
A Very Calm Presence
Just a quick word as I prepare to leave for Nashville tomorrow morning. I checked the Southern Festival of Books schedule and saw that my panel with Sigourney Cheek now has a title:
"A Very Calm Presence" — Two Stories of Family, Friends and Healing
A number of people have already indicated that they're coming. I hope you'll be there, too, if for no other reason than to see how I reconcile "A Very Calm Presence" with Schuyler, my tempestuous, monster-slaying tornado girl.
I had an epiphany about her, by the way. If you'd like to know what Schuyler sounds like when she actually speaks, you should play one of the Sims games. To the uninitiated (and even sometimes to Julie and me), Schuylerese sounds remarkably like Simlish. Unintelligible, but strangely beautiful.
"A Very Calm Presence" — Two Stories of Family, Friends and Healing
A number of people have already indicated that they're coming. I hope you'll be there, too, if for no other reason than to see how I reconcile "A Very Calm Presence" with Schuyler, my tempestuous, monster-slaying tornado girl.
I had an epiphany about her, by the way. If you'd like to know what Schuyler sounds like when she actually speaks, you should play one of the Sims games. To the uninitiated (and even sometimes to Julie and me), Schuylerese sounds remarkably like Simlish. Unintelligible, but strangely beautiful.
October 7, 2008
My Fancy Pants Weekend
I'm getting ready for an event that honestly, I've been looking forward to for a long time. This weekend, I'll be at the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, participating in a panel on Saturday at noon with Sigourney Cheek, author of Patient Siggy: Hope and Healing in Cyberspace. I've not met Ms. Cheek, and the panel hasn't been assigned a topic, at least as far as I know. (Hopefully it'll dodge the Plucky Little Soldier, Patch Adams thing.) As a result, I'm in the interesting position of preparing to talk about my book without knowing exactly what I'm going to say. To tell the truth, I sort of like it that way. I do some of my best thinking on the fly.
Between now and Saturday, I'm re-reading a book that should prepare me a little for this panel -- mine. I actually haven't read it in a while, so please, no spoilers.
I'm looking forward to this for a lot of reasons beyond free trip to Nashville. (Although, you know, free trip to Nashville!) I've been doing a lot of events, but most of them have been in the capacity of Schuyler's father, who by the way also wrote a book. I'm going to Nashville as an author first and foremost, and I have to say, that's nice. It's easy to forget that I wrote a book. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. Even now, while I'm reading it again, I have these moments of "Holy shit, did I really write all this?" I'm still a little surprised myself.
There are going to be some excellent authors at the festival, including Rick Bragg and Ann Patchett. I'm looking forward to being there with people whose pants are much fancier than my own, and to be able to look at them as something akin to a colleague. A slobbering colleague, perhaps, but I'll take that.
If you're in the area, I hope you'll come by and say hello. There are going to be something like 200 authors represented, all on the apparently fancy grounds of the War Memorial Legislative Plaza. (I don't expect to ever again be able to say "I will be speaking in the Senate Chambers" again in my life, so I'm trying to say it a lot this week.) Best of all, it's free to the public. It looks like a lot of fun.
Hopefully I'll see you there. You know, in the Senate Chambers. Where I'll be speaking. Did I mention that already? I did, okay.
Between now and Saturday, I'm re-reading a book that should prepare me a little for this panel -- mine. I actually haven't read it in a while, so please, no spoilers.
I'm looking forward to this for a lot of reasons beyond free trip to Nashville. (Although, you know, free trip to Nashville!) I've been doing a lot of events, but most of them have been in the capacity of Schuyler's father, who by the way also wrote a book. I'm going to Nashville as an author first and foremost, and I have to say, that's nice. It's easy to forget that I wrote a book. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. Even now, while I'm reading it again, I have these moments of "Holy shit, did I really write all this?" I'm still a little surprised myself.
There are going to be some excellent authors at the festival, including Rick Bragg and Ann Patchett. I'm looking forward to being there with people whose pants are much fancier than my own, and to be able to look at them as something akin to a colleague. A slobbering colleague, perhaps, but I'll take that.
If you're in the area, I hope you'll come by and say hello. There are going to be something like 200 authors represented, all on the apparently fancy grounds of the War Memorial Legislative Plaza. (I don't expect to ever again be able to say "I will be speaking in the Senate Chambers" again in my life, so I'm trying to say it a lot this week.) Best of all, it's free to the public. It looks like a lot of fun.
Hopefully I'll see you there. You know, in the Senate Chambers. Where I'll be speaking. Did I mention that already? I did, okay.
October 3, 2008
It's hard out here for a pimp
So I know I already mentioned my appearance tomorrow, but I just wanted to give one last little burst of pimpy goodness.
Tomorrow I'm signing at Borders in Allen, Texas, which is just up the road from where I live. It is in fact the closest bookstore to where I live, so it's sort of like my own quiet little neighborhood bookstore. Mom and Pop, if they worked for a huge corporation.
There are going to be other authors there that day, including a live radio broadcast by Kim Snider, author of How To Be the Family CFO, presumedly giving financial advise (I wonder if she'll mention suicide?). The hour before me will feature two writers who have written books about Princess Diana. (SPOILER: She dies) One of them, Lady Colin Campbell, has a rather interesting story of her own, but I won't ruin your Wikipedia fun by giving it all away.
Oh, and there's a bounce house. They freak me out, personally; all I can imagine is all the bacteria saying "Wheee!" as they jump from one kid to the next. But that's just me. I have Issues.
If you live in the area, I hope you'll come. This is one of those new, "experimental" Borders stores, with the cool music burning and print on demand stations, and the Watters Creek shopping area that it anchors is really very fancy and pleasant. We go there and walk around a lot, pretending we can afford to buy things. It's all so new that if you look at the satelite photo on Google Maps, all you'll see is a big open construction site. Trust me, there's stuff there now. No need for lawn chairs.
And of course, Schuyler will be in attendance. In a very funky dress, I might add. All the trendiest eight-year-old mute chickies will be wearing it this season, mark my words.
-----
Saturday, October 4, 2008
4:00 pm
Borders Books and Music at Watters Creek (map)
965 West Bethany Dr.
Allen, TX 75013
214.383.9676
Tomorrow I'm signing at Borders in Allen, Texas, which is just up the road from where I live. It is in fact the closest bookstore to where I live, so it's sort of like my own quiet little neighborhood bookstore. Mom and Pop, if they worked for a huge corporation.
There are going to be other authors there that day, including a live radio broadcast by Kim Snider, author of How To Be the Family CFO, presumedly giving financial advise (I wonder if she'll mention suicide?). The hour before me will feature two writers who have written books about Princess Diana. (SPOILER: She dies) One of them, Lady Colin Campbell, has a rather interesting story of her own, but I won't ruin your Wikipedia fun by giving it all away.
Oh, and there's a bounce house. They freak me out, personally; all I can imagine is all the bacteria saying "Wheee!" as they jump from one kid to the next. But that's just me. I have Issues.
If you live in the area, I hope you'll come. This is one of those new, "experimental" Borders stores, with the cool music burning and print on demand stations, and the Watters Creek shopping area that it anchors is really very fancy and pleasant. We go there and walk around a lot, pretending we can afford to buy things. It's all so new that if you look at the satelite photo on Google Maps, all you'll see is a big open construction site. Trust me, there's stuff there now. No need for lawn chairs.
And of course, Schuyler will be in attendance. In a very funky dress, I might add. All the trendiest eight-year-old mute chickies will be wearing it this season, mark my words.
-----
Saturday, October 4, 2008
4:00 pm
Borders Books and Music at Watters Creek (map)
965 West Bethany Dr.
Allen, TX 75013
214.383.9676
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)