Archive | September 2012

Silver Spoon or Golden Gloves?

Life can always be easier, I suppose. I wouldn’t know. I was born with “golden gloves.” That’s what they called my scrappy nature growing up.

I’m the girl who insisted on being allowed to use a chain saw to cut up the fallen tree — against the wishes of my parents, who said if I must clear it up myself, I should use a handsaw so I didn’t hurt myself. Uh, yeah. Talk about a choice!

Of course I went and got the handsaw — the 1825 handsaw — and disassembled the tree. There was never a question in my mind that I was going to do it, only whether or not the people who claimed to love me would help me do it (by giving me the chainsaw) or stand in my way.

I wish people understood that about their children. They’re a gift and a challenge.  You need to understand the gift and challenge yourself to embrace who your child is because you don’t get to choose. It’s not your life.

I felt bad for my folks. Every time they tried to stick a silver spoon in my mouth, I spit it out and threw it over the back fence. I rather fancy in 200 years, someone will dig up that cache and feel quite blessed.

Yet, I can’t help being who am I. I was born wearing golden gloves. Live with it. I have to.

 

The Big Little Life

Last night as I was out walking in the park, I saw a few rabbits sitting around their territory. It’s not very big, that territory. They’ll never hop the few blocks down the road to say hi to the rabbits in my backyard (or, as they call it, their territory). But they seem ok with that.

The spider spinning her web above in a tree seemed happy to live on a gossamer web about the size of a dinner plate. I’ve heard cougar territory is not more than about 30 miles. A bear maybe a hundred miles. Several species of migrating birds are into the thousands.

I suppose a very famous, politically active, highly in demand, actor like George Clooney* has a territory stretching into the tens of thousands of miles. A global territory.

It made me wonder about how big a life one needs to be happy.

If your whole world fits on a dinner plate, why spin a web around the globe? The spider’s lifespan would not allow for the time it would take to spin such a web. And would there be any point? What would be the gain to the spider?

I’m not advocating people “settle” or minimize or downsize. I’m simply saying, I don’t think most people know who they are or what they are capable of, and even fewer understand what they are here in the world to do or what they need (and don’t) to live the biggest little life possible.

(*For the record, Clooney is probably a nice guy, but Indra much prefers ginger men, such as Kiwi author/actor/comedian Rhys Darby.)

The Human Endeavour — the art of missing the forest for the trees

John Raoux/Associated Press
Endeavour was placed atop a modified jumbo jet for its departure from the Kennedy Space Center on Wednesday.

Apparently the Space Shuttle Endeavour is going to be landing here shortly. Um, is it wrong to say I’m more interested in my UPS package hitting my threshold?

I love science and space and all the geekiness of life, but I simply cannot grasp why standing in the sun watching a fly over of a pig-backed shuttle is preferable later visiting the actual shuttle in person.

What is the obsession with being a personal witness to a reality that has no real personal bearing?

Loads of people are standing outside watching a big hunk of metal fly over, it’s so . . . Lost World. And yet almost none of them are upset that 265 trees, along a 12 mile long route, are going to be cut down to drag this piece of space junk to its final resting place.

Yes, let’s destroy mature (some over 100 years old) trees, in a city which suffers from excessive heat, in an area where there are few if any green spaces, when a planet is already in crisis. And, do you at all care that you’re destroying what little established natural habit remains in the city?

All that genius at NASA and no one could build an elevated trailer that would clear the trees? Yeah, that’s what’s wrong with science. It doesn’t think.

Saxon Reed, AP

Well, gild my lily. Indra is in trouble — again

It seems my latest book, due out in October, has been deemed too racy by my publisher’s usual ebook converter.  Really. Their project rejection letter came back in under 2 minutes. They must have looked at the cover, read the title, and thought NO!!! and hit the delete button.

The converters in questions shall remain nameless because they are excellent folks and do excellent work. And I would highly recommend them to anyone for any sort of project. Also, I respect that this is a job people are opting not to take, probably for moral reasons.  So, it’s ok. It just strikes me as funny.

Why is America so okay with the most horrific violence, but so not ok with couples being appropriately intimate? I would rather read about people having sex than say . . . the first couple of violent chapters of most horror novels. I’m talking to you Stephen King.

I’d have been less surprised by the rejection if it was something other than a little consensual straight-up heterosexual sex between two non-religious, unmarried persons, but it wasn’t.  I don’t think my book is pornography. There’s nothing gratuitous about the sex in it. It’s a couple of people behaving pretty normally — at least, in my opinion.

Given the rejection letter came back so quickly, we don’t imagine they actually stopped and read any of it.  Which is somewhat disappointing. They might have changed their minds if they’d actually read some of it.

Oh well. What’s the point of writing a book if no one wants to ban it? It’s an honor really.

I guess my publisher will look for another ebook converter or ask the in-house designer to do it. I expect someone wants the work especially in this economy.

I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come though. It’d be terribly disappointing if  Amazon or Barnes & Noble refused to carry it — even in print form. Or if the publisher’s printer/distributor refused even to print and distribute it on moral grounds.

I shall post the cover at a later date.  You were warned!