Thursday, December 5, 2013


Do you?

I actually was up to participating this year, and finished early.

If you wanna, be my writing buddy.

Shiny Objects Are My Downfall.

Back to Books!

I have a few to write up;

~the long-overdue write-up of Alex Hughes' Clean

~two new goodies from James Tuck

~and a collection of short stories, A.D. Sams Bayou L'Abeille

My Last Post

I actually was told it was gross.

I don't agree, it was pretty much blood and gore free.

I even debated about blogging about it on the other blogs, as I had already made a blog specifically for the cancer.

But seeing as I had disappeared, again...after once again trying to be more consistent, I figured I owed it to the 3 people who follow me to see what happened this time.

I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and was told that I had probably had it for years. It is one of the most slow-growing cancers apparently.

I never even had a clue.

Well, I did. But I chalked it up to being a new mother. Post-partum depression. Just being run down. I mean, I'm 39. I'm no spring chicken anymore.

So, sorry if it offends, but when I was going through this I inspired a few people showing similar symptoms to get checked out. So, I feel like sharing was the right thing to do.

Check your neck. Seriously.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Surprise, Cancer!

April, 2013.

I noticed a rather large lump in my throat, thinking it was my lymph nodes and probably strep throat. It seemed bigger suddenly and I had issues swallowing.

We went to the ER, as it Sunday. They swabbed me for strep. For mono. Nope. Got an x-ray. It was something but the doctor on call didn't feel it was worth being more invasive.


He sent me home with the thought that I was about to get strep or mono or whatever. To take ibuprofen for the swelling. To call my doctor OR return to the ER if it worsened.

Took my ibuprofen and the swelling went down a little.

May 2013

Visit to my mother's with the baby. My relatives decided they didn't like the looks of the lump in my neck. They watched the baby and I went to the ER. Again.

This time the doctor on call, said no. I think it's your thyroid and ordered a CT Scan immediately. The results? A plum-sized growth on my thyroid. And it needed to come out, it was shoving my esophagus and windpipe to the left.

Had the ENT he tried to call been the one on call that night, I would have had surgery right then, I think.

But he wasn't. So I was told to go to the office the next day.

The next day they did a biopsy. And started making plans for surgery. They said it was so large that it had to come out, no matter what it was. Tumor or goiter. Obviously, I was hoping for a goiter.


June 2013


Thyroid Carcinoma, the size of a soft ball.

Aaaaaaand it broke out of the capsule. Spread to the lymph nodes.

Full body scan, no spread to lungs or bone.

July 2013

Radioactive Iodine.

I chronicled it here.

So here we are, 22 days away from Christmas.

This one feels particularly special as for a while we weren't sure if I was going to have it.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Junior Readers

After falling in literary love with The City of Ember and The Hunger Games, I shall no longer confine my selections to the grown-up sections of the book store.

I started reading this book today;

 I became intrigued as soon as I opened the book, I can usually tell within the first few pages if I am going to like a book.

I am Ivan. I am a gorilla.
It's not as easy as it looks.

People call me The Freeway Gorilla. The Ape at Exit 8. The One and Only Ivan, Mighty Silverback.
The names are mine, but they're not me. I am Ivan, just Ivan, only Ivan.

Humans waste words. They toss them like banana peels and leave them to rot. 

Monday, February 4, 2013

My Reading List

grows by the day.

As does my book collection.

One day I am certain my house will look like this.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Another Interesting Novel Idea

Right before the beginning of World War II, a Parisian woman fled to the South of France, never to return.

Upon her death, her heirs discovered she had an apartment in Paris. The rent had been paid on it for 71 years, despite the fact that nobody had lived there since 1939.

The family hired a crew to inventory the apartment. It was then that the team discovered the evidence of a love affair between a famous painter and an actress.

What has not been discovered was the reason Ms. De Florian never returned to Paris.

It makes me wonder.

Also reminded me of a novel I read, Possession. A pair of literary sleuths unearth the secret affair of two Victorian poets.


Thursday, January 17, 2013

Monday, January 7, 2013

Daily Routines of Famous Writers

In November 2012, I completed my 2nd NaNo. (For those of you who don't know, November is "National Novel Writing Month.")

I read this while I was writing mine and found it very interesting. I have, thankfully, found similarities in my own routine. (It is oddly comforting to note that others share some of your quirks.)

Ray Bradbury:

My passions drive me to the typewriter every day of my life, and they have driven me there since I was twelve. So I never have to worry about schedules. Some new thing is always exploding in me, and it schedules me, I don’t schedule it. It says: Get to the typewriter right now and finish this.

E.B. White:

On the other hand, I’m able to work fairly well among ordinary distractions. My house has a living room that is at the core of everything that goes on: it is a passageway to the cellar, to the kitchen, to the closet where the phone lives. There’s a lot of traffic. But it’s a bright, cheerful room, and I often use it as a room to write in, despite the carnival that is going on all around me. A girl pushing a carpet sweeper under my typewriter table has never annoyed me particularly, nor has it taken my mind off my work, unless the girl was unusually pretty or unusually clumsy. My wife, thank God, has never been protective of me, as, I am told, the wives of some writers are. In consequence, the members of my household never pay the slightest attention to my being a writing man — they make all the noise and fuss they want to. If I get sick of it, I have places I can go. A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.

Susan Sontag:

I write with a felt-tip pen, or sometimes a pencil, on yellow or white legal pads, that fetish of American writers. I like the slowness of writing by hand. Then I type it up and scrawl all over that. And keep on retyping it, each time making corrections both by hand and directly on the typewriter, until I don’t see how to make it any better. Up to five years ago, that was it. Since then there is a computer in my life. After the second or third draft it goes into the computer, so I don’t retype the whole manuscript anymore, but continue to revise by hand on a succession of hard-copy drafts from the computer.
I write in spurts. I write when I have to because the pressure builds up and I feel enough confidence that something has matured in my head and I can write it down. But once something is really under way, I don’t want to do anything else. I don’t go out, much of the time I forget to eat, I sleep very little. It’s a very undisciplined way of working and makes me not very prolific. But I’m too interested in many other things.

Ernest Hemingway:

When I am working on a book or a story I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write. You read what you have written and, as you always stop when you know what is going to happen next, you go on from there. You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again. You have started at six in the morning, say, and may go on until noon or be through before that. When you stop you are as empty, and at the same time never empty but filling, as when you have made love to someone you love. Nothing can hurt you, nothing can happen, nothing means anything until the next day when you do it again. It is the wait until the next day that is hard to get through.

These sound like me, in ways.

I write, as in take pen to paper and into the computer later.

I prefer to work in the morning, when there are no distractions. But being a mother, I most certainly can work with all sorts of chaos around.

I have jumped out of the shower to go jot down something. If the idea hits, I have a sudden and immediate need to get it all down. I keep notebooks everywhere.

I often forget to eat when completely engrossed in the project at hand.

It was an interesting read. I would recommend it.

Sunday, January 6, 2013



I bring home stray books quite often.

It would be safe to say that 

Especially these. 

Oh, What colors. 

Gorgeous covers.

It is true, 

Saturday, January 5, 2013


I saw this today and thought it would make for some interesting reading.

Friday, January 4, 2013

The Lonely Doll Makes New Friends

A Story in the Dare Wright Tradition

From Amazon:

The Lonely Doll Makes New Friends continues Dare Wright's classic series that began with publication of The Lonely Doll® in 1957. The new authors, Brook Ashley, Brett Wilbur and John Ogilvie, have photographed this latest Lonely Doll book in vibrant color. Edith and the Bears are the originals that Dare Wright used in her books. Edith's friends are Lenci dolls from the 1920's and '30s. Edith is a doll who lives with her companions, Mr. Bear and Little Bear. Rejecting Little Bear's offer to play baseball with her, Edith begs Mr. Bear to send her to a summer camp where she can learn how to become a refined young lady. Mr. Bear reluctantly agrees to let her go, but reminds Edith that it's her behavior and being true to herself that will make her special, not what she wears or how hard she tries to impress the other girls. Edith learns the wisdom of Mr. Bear's words, but only after a series of misadventures that bring her a new appreciation for Little Bear and the realization of what it really takes to make true friends.

There were mixed reviews on this new book. 

I am reserving judgement until I see for myself. Brook Ashley inherited Edith and the bears, I am glad to see they were not sold off or just sitting in a box in her attic. 

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Dare Wright

I came across a copy of The Lonely Doll by Dare Wright at the recycling center.

Wright created an entire world and narrative around her doll, who is befriended by two stuffed bears. The story of Edith, who “lived in a nice house and had everything she needed except somebody to play with” echoes Wright’s own isolated childhood.

I ended up checking out all the Dare Wright books my library had. 

The Lonely Doll series; 

The Lonely Doll
A Gift From the Lonely Doll
Edith and Mr. Bear
Edith and Midnight
Edith and Little Bear Lend a Hand
Edith and the Duckling
The Lonely Doll Learns a Lesson
The Doll and the Kitten
Holiday for Edith and the Bears
Edith and Big Bad Bill

These were apparently very controversial, and much speculation has been made about the mental state of Dare Wright.

Mostly due to these kinds of photos.

But I love these books.

This has to be my favorite shot, thus far.

Want to own these books? Good luck, they are astronomically high-priced on sites such as eBay.

The doll and the bears? Even more so. 

The doll is a felt Lenci Doll from the 1920s which belonged to Dare as a child. She sewed Edith's outfits for the books and changed her eye color to blue, resembling the author's looks.

Mr. Bear was manufactured by Schuco, and Little Bear was a special edition Steiff "Jackie Bear." Both were purchased in the 1950s with the help of Dare's brother, Blaine Wright.

A new felt finished rendition of the Edith doll was manufactured in 2005 by the Alexander Doll Company, who made the first Edith doll in 1958. It was sold exclusively by The Toy Shoppe.

In 2007, R. John Wright produced a limited edition felt Edith doll for collectors to celebrate the 50th anniversary of "The Lonely Doll." This was the first Edith doll to be made in her actual 22" height.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

One More for the Road

I still owe Alex Hughes that book review.

I got distracted from the book and had to start over reading it, as it has been months.

I have realized I love the reading part, but not so much the reviewing part. I always feel like I am giving a book report.

So from now on, with the exception of my review for Clean, I will be not be doing anymore book reviews. Probably.