Q & A

Thanks to three of you for humoring my writer’s block and providing me with some ridiculous – by which I mean most serious – questions to answer. It’s been a tough week, writingwise. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I ended up nowhere near where I thought I would. There is still much to do, but I feel much more confident about the new approach. It became more and more clear that I’d been fighting the evidence. And it made me think that writing non-fiction sometimes doesn’t feel that different from writing fiction. You get a bunch of information. You piece it together into a story that makes sense. Then that story governs the way you add to it until you accrue a certain amount of information that forces you to reconsider the story. Or that’s how I work anyway. It’s a process that requires constant reevaluation, and yet that story you tell yourself at the beginning can have a strong pull beyond reason. That’s the point that I have trouble with sometimes. It’s not good to let yourself get too carried away with the story.

But on to the questions.

Freshhell asked,

1. Paper cuts due to excessive reading. Who to sue?

The publishing companies, of course. They in turn can sue the paper companies. But that is not your problem. Publishing companies are responsible for creating a safe product. Moreover, by marketing that product to us, they are encouraging us to buy it. If they are not providing a safe product, then they might as well be attacking us with knives which, last I checked, was very, very illegal. They don’t have a leg to stand on.

2. Why is there a February and what can we do about it?

The reason there is a February is that if there wasn’t, then March would be 59 days long, and sometimes 60. And could we really live with that? No, I didn’t think so. The best we can do is to try to take consolation in the fact that February is still shorter than every other month, even in leap year, and try to make the best of the situation. I suggest large quantities of alcoholic beverages.

3. You never come around much anymore. Do I smell?

Of course you do, but that’s not why I have not visited. I’m still waiting for my limousine with well-stocked library and bar and my all cabana-boy escort. Cough it up, lady, or you’ll never see me again. Of course, maybe that’s what you’re after.

4. Apple pie or cherry? Compare and contrast.
When you’re done, gimme some.

Apple pie is more cinnamony. Cherry pie is more red. Both are delicious. I’ll bring the leftovers in the limo with me. If it ever arrives. And if I can keep the cabana boys off them. You know how they love pie.

5. Static electricity – how to channel it to work for us rather than against us.

I’m glad you asked about this one, AJ and I have been hard at work searching for ways to do this and we are both convinced that there is one key ingredient to a successful static electricity transfer project: cats. Cats are the perfect conductors of static electricity. I feel certain that if I put the cat in the dryer with a bunch of sheets that in a matter of hours I would have accumulated enough electricity to power the house. So far, Mrs. Stein is resistant to our proposed experimentation, but I hear she can be bought with cans of tuna. Stay tuned for further updates on the progress of science.

Green-Eyed Siren asked,

I vote for your descriptions of life as short-haired, bobbed brunette vs. short-haired, spiky blonde.

For those, unlike Siren, who have not been blessed with the good fortune to know me in person over a long period of time, you may not know that I spent some period of months as a blonde. In a fit of frugality, I signed up as a model for a hair show at Vidal Sassoon where I usually paid to get my hair cut. The thing about hair shows is that you don’t get to pick what they do, although some veto power is possible. For instance, they decided to cut my hair very short and bleach it white but I vetoed the stylists desire to put a small patch of pastel colored highlights in, as I had a job interview coming up. But I think Siren was a little horrified all around, since she was the one who had arranged said interview. Until a couple of weeks ago, I thought there was no photographic evidence of me during this period, but I recently learned that photo does, in fact, exist, although I have not yet seen it.

Having spent time on both sides of the blonde/brunette divide, I can’t say that blondes have more fun, but I can safely say that they get hit on in bars with much more alarming frequency. This is generally not especially pleasant (although I did have a very entertaining flight to Denver as a blonde). So if you have any inclination to be a blonde, you might perhaps practice standing in front of a mirror and saying, “No, thank you,” over and over again. But blondification was far too laborious and painful for me. I am pretty sure I know how all the “dumb blonde” rumors got started – it’s because the fumes from the bleach knock you senseless. Still, it was pretty entertaining right after I’d done it to see people I’d known for years walk right by me without recognizing me. No I know what to do if I’m ever on the run from the law.

Lass asked,

1. What exactly would you do for a Klondike bar? Because I’ve heard some disturbing rumors…

I would travel to Thailand. I would lie on the beach in the sun wearing nothing but a bathing suit and sunscreen. I would receive millions of dollars in cash. I would sleep late on Sunday. I would write a novel. I would eat buttered crepes as think as paper imported from Paris. I think all this proves I am willing to suffer great hardship for a Klondike bar. But if you heard those rumors about the rabbit, the garden hose, and the bottle of smelling salts, you really shouldn’t believe everything you hear. As for the other rumors, I plead the fifth.

2. Does Claudia smell?

I am sure she does. She has a lovely nose.
However, you should not believe her when she says she smells like “warm kitten fur and toasted marshmallows.” She actually smells like beer and old books. But this is not actually that terrible, in my opinion and is certainly no reason to avoid her.

3. Why did I dream about four-wheeling through a corn field last night?

Because your subconscious wishes you to begin a new career in farming. Go right out today and buy your own tractor.

4. What dead thing did Stevie roll in that has resulted in his horrible odor this morning?

I don’t think you really want to know. But maybe you want to talk your subconscious out of farming.

5. Should we all chuck our serious writing pursuits and collaborate on some vapid tome about how to catch a man because it seems like that is all that’s selling these days and frankly, I could use a vacation.

Count me in. Let’s write it in Bermuda. Or someplace with monkeys.


Jeanne asked,

re Lass’s #5: are we capable of chucking our serious writing pursuits and lightening up while it’s still February?

No. But March is just around the corner.

See? Aren’t you glad there’s a February?