Friday, June 5, 2009


Reading online

In my ideal imaginary world I read blogs and it feels like I’m visiting a floating virtual cocktail party. I flit from this one to that one, soaking up this particular writer’s voice or that blog’s eclectic food for thought. Too often though I find myself tearing through blog entries, until I’ve caught up with all my favorites and there’s nothing new to read. Less cocktail party than binge, I fear.

Looking for a new approach, I’ve been thinking about it from the perspective of the writer. My blog posts are usually hacky sack mode – written in one little bounce and then here’s a few more random bounces. Blog links, word play, child cuteness, family angst and some light politics are my usual ingredients. My things get dashed off, minimally edited and posted right away. Some bloggers bring more effort and polish to their entries. I can think of their posts as the equivalent of laying out a gift on a clean sunlit altar. (I initially wrote ‘offering’ instead of ‘gift’ but then that sounded too much like raw meat. Think fruit, flowers, a small piece of art, something picturesque.) But for some of us, blog posts feel more like snacks on paper plates. Or preschooler art maybe. I wonder where I was going with this. I guess I'm trying to figure out how to avoid the hangover of reading everything in a rush.

Reading paper

I’m in the middle of Kingdom of Lies by Lee Wood which is thoroughly mediocre but has me by the eyeballs. I can just barely stand to put it down. It’s a police procedural mystery set in Leeds and London with a subplot concerned with royal family history. The setting is well done and the protagonist police guy is pretty well sketched. But he’s too sympathetic, only rough enough around the edges to allow for the plot. And oh boy these characters don’t act very realistically. I’m looking forward to the unanticipated (by them) sex between the two main characters. Although the author could choose to let it remain unrequited and I’m sure she could make that just as cheesy as the sex scene I’m imagining. I’ll be sure to let you know. Anyhoo as soon as I get through that book I’ll be on to our book group selection: The Invention of Air by Steven Johnson. I reluctantly bought it new in hardback, last night at Borders. I had haunted the used bookstores in town but couldn’t find a used copy. And I left it too late to mail order one. Grumbledy grumble. I have confirmed that procrastination still sucks and still reduces my options! The book is about Joseph Priestly, scientist and priest and about early American history. This is my first non fiction book with the book group. Last month's discussion went quite well even though Notre Dame didn't get much of our love. I will report back.


Husband and I will be confirmed in our Episcopal church on Sunday. I'm surprised that no one has talked to us about tithing or monetary gifts at all. There's a bit about it in a church brochure, but no hard sell at all. We're encouraged to find a service niche in the church. I am toying with food bank stuff but don't know if I have that time. We can bring supplies on Sundays at least. I am planning to be a choir-er once my coughing is quite gone. Maybe July will be a good low-stress time to start singing because sheesh, who goes to church in July? Then I'll be a little more in the groove when the fall semester starts and people get serious and go to church again.


The Subtle Rudder said...

How is that cough?? I would love to be a choirer--I'm not at all religious, but I remember the joy of singing in a big group, and that seems like the only way I'd be able to sing these days, it's been so long.

My mom was a singer, so we were always in choir. Before we'd perform, mom would always tell us to "sing pretty!"

So sing pretty--and enjoy!

Bee said...

I think your blogging metaphors are very apt. Happily, there's room for every approach -- and sometimes a snack on a paper plate is just what is needed.

I hope that becoming an official Episcopalian is a nurturing thing for you.

Nimble said...

TSB: Cough is much better, thanks. I can inhale deeply once again. "Sing pretty!" - that's a great memory. I had a high school choir director with very athletic eyebrows. At the beginning of every song he raised them to the tippy top of his forehead. It was impossible to look away.

Bee: yes, on with snacks, sometimes that's all one needs. We were confirmed by the bishop of eastern Kansas who turned out to be very warm and fun. I had been expecting someone more starchy. So far so good, still looking for a way to be useful there.

Anil P said...

'Snacks on paper plates' is an apt metaphor for blogs.