pain/paean

For I am Publishers Weekly, and lo, I am bored:

'...a pleasant, if shallow interlude'. '...too much of which isn't especially insightful or funny.' 'Clearly, subtlety is not the order of the day. Sadly, neither is quality storytelling.' 'The narrative is preachy and bland.'

How. Could. You. Stand. It??? How could you stand to write a book and worrit and hope and pray and fearfully open up the hallowed PW pages, or not open them but have someone else open them for you, only to find your blood, sweat and tears boiled down to being 'not enough to buoy a routine plot'?

Weird, reviews of stuff. Regular folks just don't have to deal with such things. Why, I almost never read of myself in the library journal, "her dialogue with publishers is predictable and weak,' or 'while her copy-editing is incisive, the actual figures are very routine, which detracts from the pace', or even, "her selection of YA books for our collection is interesting and creative, but she has failed again to avoid the heavy-handed Kiwi-isms that tend to lace her decisions.'

Creative people. How are you not always sobbing into your tea and bourbon? Because everyone is never going to like your book. I mean, PW does like some books, as well as being so fearfully bored with others. But does one reviewer's 'skilful, nuanced mosaic' cancel out another's 'disorganised plot and one-dimensional characters'?

O God. A 'routine plot'. The cold sweats and the vapours.

Dear new baby...

Dear New Baby Sarah Madeline,

Please find enclosed “Baby Jacket To Fit 0-3 Months”.

I dunno, little dude. It looks awfully wee to me. I mean, I know you’re pretty new and everything, and I understand that people your age are usually on the small side. But I’m not convinced. Now I’ve finished making it, it seems to me this would fit a relatively well-built guinea-pig.

In 15 years’ time, your mum will be sorting through a houseful of crap and she’ll come across all the tiny things you wore right now, and will marvel at how someone so little and perfect morphed into this thing that tramples her dreams and hates her and leaves hair straighteners about the house on a daily basis. I just want you to pass on a note to her, that when she pulls out this jacket, she can reassure herself that you actually probably never were small enough to fit into it.

Still and all. I haven’t had a lot to do with people like you, so maybe it’ll work out all right. I mean, I do know one incontrovertible fact – that whatever age you are when this thing fits you, it will only continue to fit you for approximately two weeks. You guys grow fast.

It’s a good thing, because another thing you need to know is that your mother is firmly against dressing you in any sort of pastel, baby-coloured garments. The trouble is, the kind of wool they make in those colours is specially made to be thrown in the washing machine on numerous baby-vomit occasions and survive. Once you move away from baby-related colours, the type of wool that will still kiss your baby-skin with the softness of a thousand fairywings is mostly also the type of wool that has to be handwashed.

I know! No parents of a weeks-old baby will have the time or presence of mind to do that, right?

So what I suggest is, wear this for the one week you’re still tiny enough to fit into it, puke on it, and then instruct your parents to throw it away immediately. It’s the best solution for all of us.

Welcome to the world, kiddo. We’re glad you could join us.

Love, A.

what is it then?

I wore my New Zealand Book Month shirt to work on Friday. Because even when you're not in New Zealand, well, it's still New Zealand Book Month, so you have to show willing, and display your logo with adopted-kiwi pride.

Here is every single conversation I had on Friday:

COLLEAGUE: *looks suspicious at the sort of allegiance I am electing to display in a work environment*

ME: It's not weed.

COLLEAGUE: What is it then?

ME: It's a book.

COLLEAGUE:...

ME: It's a book.

COLLEAGUE: Is it a book about weed?

ME: *facepalm*

balancing the hemispheres

Recent local tourism activities indicate the following proof:

Universal equilibrium. QED.