First Thing We Do, Let's Kill All the Lawyers.

First, Warner Brothers is putting the kibosh on "Wizard People, Dear Reader," an alternate soundtrack/narration to their merely competent film of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I have never had the pleasure of seeing the performance, but I'm sure there's a lot that could be done with it, and it's too bad that it falls outside the limits of the corporation's sense of humor (as so many things associated with brands seem to do).

And then, what is much more distressing and in a small way life-altering to me: Hasbro is shutting down e-scrabble.com. E-scrabble.com has been one of the delights of my life for the past two years, thanks to its clean, ad-free interface; e-mailed turns that let users play at their leisure; a chat log to leave comments or hold conversations; and of course the way it offers the opportunity to play Scrabble with friends or strangers halfway across the country or even the world. I haven't seen any other Scrabble site to compare, and now . . . sigh. Damn intellectual property rights.

The Harry Potter Personality Quiz

I came across these Harry Potter personality test questions while browsing HP websites at work, and they amused me enough that I thought I would post my answers here. If you've read the books and have the time, I'd love it if you'd put your own answers in a comment. Thanks!

Where would the Sorting Hat put you? Ravenclaw, though I'm pleased to say I'm becoming more of a Gryffindor as I grow older.
Who (or what) would you stuff into the nearest Vanishing Cabinet? George W. Bush and everyone associated with his Administration.
What form would your boggart take? A tornado or a huge insect (especially a spider).
Where do you shop most in Diagon Alley? Flourish and Blotts
What corporeal form does your Patronus take? Per Katy and Ted's analysis of my daemon, it ought to be a swan.
Describe your wand: Applewood, twelve inches, containing four drops of rose oil, a pinch of salt, and a slip of parchment bearing the letter A.
Aunt Petunia has been taken hostage by the Death Eaters. You're leading the OotP rescue party. Who are you taking along? Lupin, Tonks, and Mad-Eye Moody, for wisdom, humor, and fierceness respectively.
Can you see Thestrals? No, thank God.
Who is your favorite Professor (aside from Dumbledore)? Minerva McGonagall
You have a single, one-hour dose of Polyjuice Potion brewed. Whose hair will you be dropping into it? Well, Voldemort's loose in the Wizarding world, so I don't really want to be anyone from there for a while. If I could step into other fictional worlds, Harriet Vane, Emma Woodhouse, or Stephen Maturin (this last for the fun of walking a tall ship for an hour, and not Jack because I wouldn't want the responsibilities); or in the real world, George W. Bush, because I'm sure I could say or do enough horrible things in the allotted time to screw him and his party over for the rest of his life.
What kind of broom do you fly? Cleansweep Seven -- old but stylish.
And finally, who is the Half-Blood Prince? (your top 3 picks) I'll just let y'all imagine the exceedingly smug and self-satisfied smile I'm wearing at the moment, and leave it at that. :-)

Wall to Wall till We Hit the Wall

A quick report on Wall to Wall: Stephen Sondheim yesterday: It was AMAZING. Elaine Stritch singing "The Ladies Who Lunch." Judy Kuhn and Michael Cerveris on "Loving You." Angela Lansbury (or as I kept referring to her in awe, "Angela 'Frickin' Lansbury!!!") performing "A Little Priest." Neil Patrick Harris (yes, the former Doogie Howser): "Finishing the Hat." Patti LuPone: "Being Alive." And the aforementioned panel with Joss Whedon, Frank Rich, and Mr. Sondheim! Ginny, Melissa, and I barely moved from our seats.

However, that could also be because of pure physical weakness, because we failed to take any food besides a single doughnut into this twelve-hour event. The first five or six hours weren't too bad, and we carefully rationed the doughnut among the three of us in one-sixth chunks; but when the doughnut was gone, round about 7 p.m., things started getting a little shaky, and by the end of the night, after Barbara Cook sang "In Buddy's Eyes" and Donna Murphy did "Losing My Mind" and all 75 candles had been blown out on Mr. Sondheim's cake, we were in a positive musical-theatre-bliss/lack-of-food delirium. We staggered from the theatre to a diner, where we could barely eat, and then home to Brooklyn and Staten Island; and I shall say only that the aftereffects of such starvation were very much like a hangover, with everything that implies. Today has been a good day, though, with lots of sleep and lots of food, and other than not having done nearly enough (or indeed any) work this weekend, I am ready to face tomorrow.

This has absolutely nothing to do with the previous topic, but here is the headline that has most delighted me this week, from World Ark magazine:

"Sometimes, Alpacas Do It Better."

Can't argue with that. :-)

Nanny nanny boo boo! I'm not working!

ARGH. I was writing a post with the title above and then Blogger ate it. Bad Blogger. Well, that gives you the tenor of my week, if you're interested: I feel like I am daring greatly by not reading/editing a manuscript in the evening -- and indeed, it's the first time this week I haven't done so. Instead I went to an art reception, then out for a St. Patrick's Day drink and potatoes with my friend Ben, and now I am sitting here posting to my blog. Yes, I defy thee, Gods of Work! I laugh in the face of thy manuscript piles! Ha!

In other news. The good Viacimo directed me to Overheard in New York, which is fantastic. Ginny and Melissa and maybe Ben and I are making plans for Wall-to-Wall Sondheim at Symphony Space on Saturday, which should be awesome -- Joss Whedon, Frank Rich, and Stephen Sondheim in one room! Squee! The presentations I was procrastinating on last week went well. I am going to Germany the last week in April with five other children's book editors. Recent reading: a book called Her First American, by Lore Segal, which I liked but didn't quite love. Katy and I have reservations to see the Before Sunrise / Before Sunset double feature that's part of the Reverse Shot Film Festival April 2-9, and everyone who reads this and lives in New York should come out and see it too.

I will have more to say of significance next time, I promise. Or else I'll post a really long poem by Bob Dylan. Or both.

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH.

That is my advice for the day to all of you: BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH. So if you see an ide coming, run in the other direction.

Cool word of the day: undecennary, which means "a period of eleven years" or "an eleventh anniversary."This courtesy of A Word A Day, which I commend highly.

There are many, many things I want to write about here, but I am sleepy and too busy to think/write them out properly (one activity being how I do the other) and therefore not able to do any of them justice. But they include: the idiots behind www.classkc.org and how they are symptomatic of the whole literalist divide in this country; thoughts on the role of the child protagonist in literature, inspired by John Updike's New Yorker review of my darling Jonathan's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close; a textbook example of why Anthony Lane is a fabulous reviewer; how the '90s retro club NerveAna is both like and unlike the middle-school dances I attended when my bangs were much bigger than they are now; "Bride and Prejudice," which is a good time but not nearly so good as it could have been if Mira Nair had directed it instead of the "Bend It Like Beckham" lady, who can't round out a scene to save her life, and if it hadn't had some guy who resembled a Ken doll and possessed the emotional range thereof cast as Mr. Darcy; and the pleasures of running. But as said, I am sleepy, so I am sorry to say you will be denied all these delights. Another time, perhaps.

I also wanted to announce that the Central Children's Room of the Donnell Library Center is currently displaying the original art for the Arthur A. Levine Books picture book The Red Bird, which was written by Astrid Lindgren, illustrated by Marit Tornqvist, translated by Patricia Crampton, and edited by Cheryl Klein. If you are in New York and around 53rd Street between 5th and 6th Avenues, you should stop in and look at it -- it is breathtakingly beautiful, and there until the end of the month.

Harry and the Potters

I am still here at work because I'm goofing off on the Web rather than -- guess what -- writing my last presentation, and I stumbled again on the Harry and the Potters website. This time I went ahead and listened to a few of their songs here, and I just adore the sweetness, humor, and earnestness of their music, combined with that awesome punk spirit -- not unlike Harry himself, now that I think of it. And the account of how their band got started is hilarious. If only *they* were listed on BMG.

How much do I not want to write my presentations due tomorrow?

Let me count the ways.

1. On Monday I returned from a fabulous trip to Florida, where I visited my dear friend Ted in the Everglades. We canoed through mangroves. We played Scrabble. We discussed our personal Desert Island Discs. We watched the sun rise over a lake with many birds. I took several close-ish pictures of smiling alligators. We saw an Indonesian dance performance. We drank excellent milkshakes. We went on a fruitless quest for MoonPies (though this did take us to a Winn-Dixie, which I have always wanted to visit, thanks to Kate DiCamillo's excellent novel Because of Winn-Dixie. The book is better than the grocery store.). And then we played more Scrabble. Other than the missing MoonPies, it is hard to imagine a better weekend. Thank you, Ted.

2. I also finished Permanent Rose, Hilary McKay's third novel about the Casson family (the previous two being Saffy's Angel and Indigo's Star). It's hard to describe Hilary McKay's writing: maybe the wit and sharpness of Jane Austen meets the absurdity of P. G. Wodehouse meets the domestic focus, quirkiness, and truth of The Slightly True Story of Cedar B. Hartley. That doesn't quite get it. It's mostly the magic of her characters, who are utterly individual and endearing even when they're exasperating; I have the same affection for the Cassons that I have for Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin and Harry, Ron, and Hermione, in that I would gladly read about them washing their underwear for two hundred pages for the mere pleasure of spending time with them. Anyway, Permanent Rose immediately leaped to the top of the sadly short list of books I've finished in 2005, right up there with Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. Ted also gave me Idoru and Invisible Cities, so maybe after I finish Atonement and The Golem's Eye . . . < casts longing look at book stack >

3. And speaking of Harry, Ron, and Hermione . . . the US & UK covers for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince have been released (click here for ours, here and here for the UK if you haven't seen them), and there has been much speculation about the significance of the basin on ours, the copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the UK adult, the presence of Dumbledore on both ours and the UK children's, and the ring of fire around Harry-with-pecs and Dumbledalf on the UK children's. My incredibly mature response to all this speculation: "Ha!" And also: "Hee hee!" Only 127 more days, HP fans . . .

4. Completely and totally overwhelmed at work these days. Yeah.

5. Think you know world literature? Take the Guardian Unlimited World Book Day quiz, which has questions about books from every continent, including Antarctica. I got 18 out of 29, and it told me "Not bad, but not quite worldly wise. You are proof, however, that some of the most exciting journeys can be undertaken from the comfort of your own sofa." (This link courtesy of Ben, whose birthday is Friday. Happy birthday, Ben!)

6. I am loving Gilmore Girls this season, especially Logan, who's a smug bastard but a damnably cute, charming, and intelligent smug bastard. And such Luke and Lorelei happiness! Also Alias seems to be improving now that they're remembering they had three seasons previous to this one.

7. I have one free CD left to get from BMG Music Service and then I can cancel my subscription forever. I have to buy it by the end of the month. I am thinking rock-ish: the newest Liz Phair or Mary Chapin Carpenter; more Patty Griffin; Postal Service; the new U2; the first Wilco album, if BMG will sell it to me as a single album. Any suggestions or picks among those? In general I tend toward music that's acoustic, soulful, and with good lyrics, but I know nothing about modern rock, really, so recommendations are very much appreciated.

8. I received a postcard today that said in white letters on a sky-blue background, "I believe none of us is qualified to judge the lives of others." The back was information/advertisement for Church! of Park Slope (the exclamation mark is intentional), a new nondenominational Christian church opening up on 8th Avenue. It sounds interesting, but the design -- the fonts, the lines, that exclamation point, everything -- looks very much like the format of McSweeney's, so I'm slightly suspicious. Also, I do feel qualified to judge the lives of others to some extent, as in killing/child molestation/torturing small animals = bad. So such generalizations annoy me, and anyway, I'm pretty happy at good old PSUMC.

9. I think that is actually all for now, which means I have to work instead. Shoot. Hrm. Well, have a good night, everyone!

The Happy List Continued

• llamas
• The Slightly True Story of Cedar B. Hartley (Who Planned to Live an Unusual Life) by Martine Murray
• Playing Scrabble
• Granny Smith apples
• Peanut butter
• Cinnamon-raisin anything, especially toasted and with peanut butter
• Bellinis, Riesling, Sancerre, champagne, Chambord, Kir Royales, and well-made Purple Motherfuckers (the latter few and far between, sadly)
• Shocking everyone when I say "Purple Motherfucker"
• Wood floors
• Nyanko cats (It is always dangerous to say that this is Japan at its very weirdest, but surely smiling kittycats wrapped in foodstuffs is approaching the limit?)
• My running shoes, brown Danskos, tall black boots, and red slippers with phoenix beading
• Empire-waist dresses
• Earl Grey tea
• Cherry Hill, Bethesda Terrace, and the Central Park Mall
• Cookie dough, particularly chocolate chip
• Subway maps
• Making lists

CBK + JSF = Luv 4-Ever

Thanks to Sunday's profile in the New York Times Magazine, I now officially have a literary crush* on Jonathan Safran Foer. He's a bestselling novelist. He lives in Park Slope. Amplification: He owns his own townhouse in Park Slope. He has a Great Dane named George, who he walks in Prospect Park. He writes beautiful, thoughtful, funny, self-aware e-mails. He's close to his family. He's not only able but unafraid to write compellingly and without cliches about pure emotion, especially love. He's generous, he's smart, he's modest, he's rich (never hurts), and he wears glasses. The one flaw in his perfection is that he is, alas, married, but as ours is a literary love, destined to be consummated only in ink and paper and thought, we can ignore that.

Marry me, Jonathan.

* literary crush. n. An exceedingly silly but enjoyable state of mind where one falls in love with a person solely through the character evinced in his or her writings. See also Lane, Anthony.

What They Should Really Tell You about Your iPod.

1. The belt clip doubles as a neat little headphone-cord winder.
2. Yes, you have joined the white-headphone-wearing masses. Deal with it. Or get yourself a different pair of headphones.
3. If you are a Windows user, you may well be unnerved by the incredible ease of the iPod and iTunes. This discomfort will be increased if you are a Protestant as well as a Windows user: You know that we are put on this earth to be perfected in suffering, and the simplicity of the software will seem uncomfortable, indeed unnatural, and not at all like God intended. You will gradually adjust to this feeling, however, and even come to treasure its faint scent of sin. It isn't called Apple for nothing.
4. The iPod isolates and insulates. You lock yourself into the space between your earbuds. You listen to music you already know. It is safe, with all the blessings and dangers that that implies.
5. The iPod disconnects music from mood or experience in ways that may make you uneasy at the beginning. Hit "Shuffle" and suddenly you are hearing "Peter Pan" by Patty Griffin -- a song you have always associated with darkness and sadness and held breath -- in the middle of a perfect sparkling Saturday afternoon, and you must expand your understanding of either the light in the song or the shadows of the day to make the two cohere. On the other hand, "Shuffle" can also create wonderful conjunctions you would never have seen yourself: Listen to "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" in the middle of a big-box Lowe's Home Store surrounded by anxious wannabe suburbanites and see if you can manage not to smile.
6. The iPod also allows you to connect music to mood or experience more perfectly than you sometimes need. If you're tired, depressed, and lonely after a long evening at work, do you really want to listen to the Dixie Chicks singing "Home"? Wouldn't it be better to go with Van Morrison bopping out "Jackie Wilson Said"? It is too damn easy to indulge your emotions with this thing.
7. That is, if you can find the music to indulge them with, if the experience of overshooting the click wheel or having to run through all your albums to find Stevie Wonder at last or even merely analyzing your feelings to determine what music you need doesn't snap you out of the feeling itself.
8. As demonstrated by #5-7, you can easily spend as much time thinking about how the music you're hearing connects to your non-headphones experience as you do actually listening to the music.
9. If this happens, close your eyes. Listen. Breathe. That is why you have this in the first place: for the chance to hear the music, be the music, anywhere and everywhere.
10. "For most of us, there is only the unattended
    Moment, the moment in and out of time,
    The distraction fit, lost in a shaft of sunlight,
    The wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning
    Or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply
    That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
    While the music lasts."
    
    
    Like that.
11. And when the song is done, open your eyes, take out your headphones, and stop being safe.