The Witching Well

I’ve known people like Karla, who hide their geekiness at work, and, honestly, I don’t understand them. If I want to sit in my office during my lunch hour and read comic books, I do. Hell, I have a poster of Zatanna on the wall next to my filing cabinets. I don’t tell ripping roleplaying yarns to folks that I know won’t be interested, but back when I actually had a weekly game to go to, I told people what I was going to do over the weekend if they asked me. My boss and my staff know I write fantasy and vampire stories, that I’m a Tolkien fan, and that I play computer games. They also know I’m working on my genealogy. So what? If you spend forty hours a week with a group of people, they are eventually going to start finding out who you are, unless you put a lot of energy into hiding it. Energy that I think could be better spent.

Besides, it makes it look like you’re ashamed. Living in the closet. Which is stupid. If I’m not going to hide the fact that I’m a Witch, whyever would I hide the fact that I’m a geek?

And if you work in an environment where being a geek could be detrimental to your career prospects? Well, that’s your choice, obviously, but I find it hard to understand why anyone would deliberately stay among people who would have no respect for them if they knew what games they like to play in their free time.

I’m going to be honest about this: I thought that V for Vendetta, seeing as how Alan Moore had taken his name off the script, and seeing as how Hollywood mucked up LXG so badly, would be a piece of junk. But Andy and I got hold of a pass for two to a free preview Monday night, so we went.

And I was pleasantly surprised. Not that there were fun explosions, or that Hugo Weaving and Natalie Portman put in good performances, or that the political overtones were right up my alley, but that I wasn’t jarred out of the narrative by any glaring plot holes or foolish and inexplicable contrivances. Yes, there’s a moment toward the end that should have been heartbreakingly poignant that actually sent a good portion of the audience into titters of laughter; it went past people (I think) because it was inserted into a scene that was more resonant on a personal level and the moment itself was going for something symbolic. It came out awkward when it should have been poetic.

But overall, I had a lot more fun than I expected to. I think you may like it, if that’s the sort of thing you like.

Disclamer: I haven’t (shame on me) read Moore’s original story yet, so if you’re a big fan of that, your opinion may vary greatly from mine.

Not being particularly well-read on military regs, I had no idea they were quite this strict on the issue of partisan politics, but I’m not the least surprised that the Republicans are asking our servicepeople to break them. Horrified, yes. But not surprised.

I’m reading a lot of writing and publishing blogs of late, because, well, I’m in a phase with my blog reading, and I seem to be coming across a lot of people who are writing/agenting/publishing YA books.

My question is this: How much of YA sales are actually to adults rather than kids?

I ask this because it occurs to me that when I was a teenager, and even when I was a late preteen, I passionately avoided reading anything that was supposed to be “for kids,” and it really seemed that most of my friends who read for pleasure did the same. Honestly, this was twenty-five to thirty years ago, but it was tragically unhip to be seen carrying around any book that was marketed for younger readers. Have YA books gotten more respectable in the age of Harry Potter? Or were all of the kids I knew just odd to prefer Steven King or Robert Heinlein to Judy Blume?

Former child star Jack Wild has died. He was only 53.

I had the hugest crush on him when I was about thirteen, religiously watching reruns of HR Puffinstuff and never missing a TV showing of Oliver!

I’ve known one or two couples like this.