Socks

As the cold weather has hit again, I've had socks on the brain quite a bit. Why? Because I'm not terribly fond of socks. Generally speaking. There are some socks that I like, however, and I love getting warm, fun socks as gifts. But generally, I'm a barefoot baby, quite happy to run around with pebbles poking my arches.

Why do I not like socks?

1. They're the key to letting people know my pants are sometimes not long enough

2. Finding the right ones to match whatever I'm wearing is tricking and expensive

3. Wearing shoes and socks makes my feet stink.

4. They're either too thick or too thin--either can't fit into my shoes, or so thin they're falling down my ankles all the time.

5. When they get holes, I'm annoyed with the hole all day, and probably longer because I don't want to throw them out and pay money to replace them, especially if they happen to match something.

6. They look funny with skirts and dresses which means I have to have pantyhose, which are even worse.

7. Pairs get split up all over the place

in the wash

in the bed

behind the bed

between the shower and the hamper

8. If I'm wearing only socks and I have to go outside, they get dirtier or sopping wet a lot faster than if I'm only wearing shoes.

9. I have nice looking ankles without the socks.

Why do I, therefore, like socks that are gifts, or fun socks?

1. These socks are cute, so it doesn't matter if they match anything. I'm not wearing them for that.

2. They keep my feet warm enough that I don't have to wear shoes, too.

3. They make people smile.

4. Of course, they still get lost and separated. Especially because these are often night socks that are bound to be worn into bed. But because they're colorful and fun, I can usually notice readily when they're missing and see them as they stand out in the mess of sheets, etc.

The Cult of the Book

In spite of the title of my blog, I actually am not a fan let a lone a member of the cult of the book. "-phile" just means you like or maybe love something, but I don't put that on the same level as adoration or worship. But I do think there is a dangerous trend toward this.

The inspiration for this post--it's something I've thought about a lot, but last night I began reading "Inkheart" by Cornelia Funke, which I've heard is excellent. But the cult came out loud and strong in the first chapter. Their house was covered with books, piles here and there and everywhere; the main character Meggie and her dad seem to be constantly reading; his profession is repairing old books.

Really, I don't see anything terribly wrong with this. But it does tend toward the border of wondering if these people live outside of their books. Isn't there also life outdoors? I guess I'm not 100% positive on any statistics to this effect, but is there any evidence that it's not just television but also reading that might encourage a lack of outdoor activity?

Aside from that, the more disturbing part (though still relatively mild) came when Meggie made a negative remark about the stuffy man who brought in Bibles to be repaired by her dad. On the surface there's nothing terribly wrong with this either. The man who brought in Bibles to be recovered might have been stuffy and unpleasant. But it's fiction--he's not real. And he has no other significance to the story. That's why I find it significant that of all the books she mentions, the one she associates with negative things is the Bible.

Of course I'll keep reading. It's not terribly offensive, just borderline. And it might have some redeeming religious relations later. Not likely, but maybe. It does stir up in my mind what I'd been pondering before--that there is this trend toward adoration/worship of books, and not just books generally, but books with the exception of the scriptures.

It's fairly common practice to include in young adult and middle grade books a character who loves reading--some promotion in one way or another of reading. Along with this, many reading advocates promote reading of anything and everything. As long as a child is reading it's great. And then as I've read on many blogs, read in the articles in that Judy Blume censorship collection, and heard more times than I can count, there's this idea that parents should not "interfere" with what their children are reading but let them read anything they want--with Bravos to parents who place no restrictions on their children and don't even give a hoot about what their children read.

Why? So of course, literacy is a concern, and I do understand that when children learn to love reading, their literacy will progress and we'll have more informed and educated citizens and this will all lead to the greater good. But everything? I'm not sure about that.

Why do these people have such confidence in the mass of books out there to instruct better than parents? Does it actually discourage literacy if parents are mindful of their children's reading habits? My guess would be quite the opposite. What children need more than book instruction is loving attention from their parents. Of course, not all parents are good parents, but still. Why should a parent be bravoed for not parenting over such a huge mass of potential influences on their child? That just doesn't make sense to me.

And why, at least in this one case, though it seems a broader feeling, should there be encouragement toward any books but the scriptures? Could it be that the scriptures would be one source that would discourage this cult of the book? Well, I haven't actually memorized the Bible, unfortunately, though I'm pretty familiar with it--had seminary and have attended Sunday School forever. But I haven't really studied the issue of books and such influences specifically in the Bible. In any case, I can't think of something in the Bible that would directly contradict the encouragement to read books.

But there is the verse in Philippians, (Philip. 4: 8) also referenced and reiterated in the Articles of Faith, that says this:
"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. "

I like the positive turn this gives to the subject, don't you? It doesn't say don't do this and don't do that, although we do sometimes need that kind of guidance as well (eg. The Ten Commandments do have a handful of don'ts). But it seems with so much good there is out there, as recognized, if we spend our time looking for the good, then why should we waste our time plundering in the bad stuff?

The Doctrine & Covenants, though not as widely familiar as the Bible, also talks to this same point, but actually does address books specifically: 90:15:
"And set in order the churches, and study and learn, and become acquainted with all good books, and with languages, tongues, and people."

So, there you go, another cool verse, --eeh, with a reminder that I shouldn't just be studying fiction, too--learning is a great thing, but it is specific to "good" books, not just any books.

While it doesn't directly address the definition of good here, I think the context as shown in the Philippians verse is revelatory--true, honest, just, pure. Definitely good things there. (In defense of fiction--since the question of truth comes up--I'll say, in case it isn't obvious, that some important truths are masked in tales--Jesus himself taught in parables for the benefit of the people to see at the level for which they were prepared.)

My favorite verse about defining good goes right along with these, the one in Moroni which I mentioned in my long essay about what makes a good picture book, (I think the first post I copied into this blog)--Moroni 7: 12-15:
"12 Wherefore, all things which are ^agood cometh of God; and that which is ^bevil cometh of the devil; for the devil is an enemy unto God, and fighteth against him continually, and inviteth and enticeth to ^csin, and to do that which is evil continually.

13 But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do ^agood continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and ^benticeth to do ^cgood, and to love God, and to serve him, is ^dinspired of God.

14 Wherefore, take heed, my beloved brethren, that ye do not judge that which is ^aevil to be of God, or that which is good and of God to be of the devil.

15 For behold, my brethren, it is given unto you to ^ajudge, that ye may know good from evil; and the way to judge is as plain, that ye may know with a perfect knowledge, as the daylight is from the dark night."

It sounds kind of black and white, doesn't it? Just like the definition of charity is broken up into all the things this means (actually in this same chapter, but also in Corinthians in the Bible)--patient, long suffering, kind, etc. I appreciate being able to combine this verse with the Philippians verse to understand better what does bring a person to Christ. Of course there's a feeling to it, some obvious things, or he couldn't say so easily the difference is like night and day, but still. I appreciate the details.

For one, accompanying these also with the D&C verse, we know that the scriptures, although the best at bringing souls unto Christ, aren't the only good books available. And indeed, we need to seek for all or many of the good books and good things there are to be found.

And so, considering the multitude of scriptures that talk about raising up your children well, (which I won't quote because there are far too many), I would think there's room for interpretation that parents might be wise to encourage their children in reading good books. And by personal extension, it would seem that this might best come about by their own reading of good books. As my interest lies in children's and young adult books, I'll put my plug in, too, that parents and other adults alike--particularly those with influence on children---might be wise to read some good children's books! :)

So there's my two cents. Parents can be good parents by reading and encouraging reading, of good books, and promote both literacy and parent-child loving relationships. Don't you think it's great how these things can work together? What do you think?

2nd Novel

Although I would never ever in a million thousand years suggest it, I'm coming to learn that the true test of your learning in an MFA program doesn't come in the completion of your thesis, but in the completion of the second book after your thesis. I think it's absolutely wonderful to get so much help with workshops and lessons and everything on the thesis, and I'm so glad I've had the help I have on it. And actually, I'm glad too that I'll have the continued opportunity to workshop another potential novel. But as I've finished the first novel, and I await comments from my thesis advisor, I'm trying to write another and finding myself pretty stuck. I have a few ideas, actually, so it's not for a want of ideas, as I've struggled with over the years, it's getting them going. I hear Keisha's lesson from last year on ignoring the internal editor, which I argued about with her --well not really, I was just trying to get it--But now I get it! And yet, I can't get it.
Press on, I guess, right? I'm so looking forward to one more summer at Hollins!

Chewing Gum in the House

As I was exiting the metro station, I paused at the trash can and considered throwing out my gum before proceeding to my car. Then I shook my head and kept going. Why would that make a difference? I've chewed gum in my car before. I'm not sure why I thought it, or had that reaction, but it did remind me of a funny thing when I was at home for Christmas this year. My mother offered me a piece of gum... in our house! You're thinking, so what? Well, in our house when we were kids, we were not allowed to chew gum. I always thought my mother hated and despised it, though I knew it had to do with some accidents. But I thought she loathed it all together. Anyway, it took me by surprise when she offered it to me, especially in the house.

Maybe because I was the only child at home, I was having subliminal feelings that she was doing something special for me, something I couldn't tell the others. So I laughed out loud, and teased her about it. "You're offering me gum? In the house? I'm telling!" She excused herself that that was only a rule for children. I wasn't a child any more, was I? Of course not, and I still took the gum, and even though whichever one of my siblings I told didn't appreciate it as much as I did either, I still thought it was funny.

So anyway, back to today. After I passed the trash can and continued on my way toward my car, I reflected on this story and some broader picture ideas came to my head. Are there commandments that are only for children and some that are only for adults? For more mature spirit children and less mature spirit children? Okay, so that train of thought didn't get too far, because the only connection I could come up with is that scripture that says we get more commandments when we keep the first ones, or something like that. Boy, what a scripture scholar I am! Anyway, so that might kind of imply that I still shouldn't be chewing gum in the house.

But the truth is that as I've matured, I have had more rules about the house--maybe not my parents' house, actually less there. But more about my own--like paying the rent on time, having a job so I can pay the rent, keeping up a bank account so I can pay the rent, having a car--paying car payments, insurance, taxes, etc so I can get to the metro :) so I can get to work, so I can pay the rent--you get the idea. Cleaning up after myself, cleaning up for other people sometimes--well I had to clean as a kid, but not usually the whole shabang. Yea, being an adult has some rules that kids don't.

So maybe it's okay and maybe we do lose some of the commandments or rules as we get older--they're just helping us get there--keeping the gum out of the hair so I can look presentable when I get to work, so I can keep the job and pay the rent and feed the fly that sits on the wart on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole of the bottom of the house that Jack built. I think I can handle chewing gum in the house now.

Sandals!

Today, I put on a new short-sleeved shirt that I got for Christmas (I asked for summer shirts because I was low on them, even though it was winter at that time, what can I say?), and since it was black and white, I wore my black pants. And then since I was wearing basically black all over, I couldn't wear my normal brown shoes or navy shoes. I had to wear black shoes. And since they're in the closet where I keep shoes I don't wear as much, I happily surprised myself when I saw that I had some other black shoes that I could wear today--sandals! Yippee, yeah, yeah! It's sandal weather! I guess that comes with short-sleeved shirts, but since my sandals are black, I hadn't thought of it til now! And you know what the best thing about sandals is, don't you? You don't have to wear socks! That means I can sleep in an extra minute because I don't have to rummage through the sock drawer to find some that match. But I probably shouldn't tell myself that, because, as I just mentioned, sleeping in and having to drive to the metro is already a problem. So, now I um, can get up at the same time and maybe make it to the bus on time because I don't have to rummage...yah dah yah day....

Are You My Mother?

I turned on King Kong somewhere in the middle so I could be entertained while folding some laundry and had some interesting insights. First, I was really surprised at the obvious lay-overs--what are they called? melding of two images. The line "No one will believe these aren't real" was hilarious. Then, do people survive if they get caught in the middle of an elephant stampede? How on earth did only 4 not live through a stampede of brontosauruses, in a narrow ravine, where they all ended up piling on top of each other? Seriously.

But the most interesting observation came when they switched over to the King Kong dude with the woman. I couldn't help but think as the big ape loomed over her that people think we descended from this species. How on earth did that happen? I'm guessing King Kong is probably a man, but still the phrase "Are you my mother?" came to mind. Seriously. As the book goes, when the object or being doesn't respond in the language of the baby, the answer is no.

I read or heard once that Adam and Eve were two of the most if not the most robust people ever to live--physically just about perfect, exactly what was needed to begin the human race. So, how could apes have progressed to a perfect physical state only to have the human form gradually become not so perfect? It just doesn't make sense. I'm definitely no biologist or great student of the possibilities of evolution. I remember reading some proven scenarios of survival of the fittest such among some butterfly species, but I'm not so sure that can really explain progression to the perfect state. Anyone? Something just doesn't add up.

Spring Just Keeps Getting Better

Some photos from my walk today at lunch. Sometimes I wonder how the world would be if everything blossomed all at once. That is, I can imagine how amazing some pictures would be.
But I think there's wisdom in having things come in their own time. For example, some of the photos might be discordant, having too many colors and shapes involved--a little like the combination of these three pictures. But also, I think some of the small things might need their own attention. We might otherwise overlook the individual beauty of some flowers, because they would be masked by the beauty of others. And, spring lasts a little longer, too, as everything comes in its season, right?

Beware of Find and Replace!

So here I am, working along reading my thesis, round 3 I call it, and finding all kinds of typos. I think I mentioned before I kind of expected that. Otherwise, it's actually going pretty well. I mean, I am embarrassed that I've sent this to a few people to look at, since it's more than just typos--other word choices and minor points. But I am pleased to find myself now on p. 143 and I haven't found anything that needed serious re-writing, like things that would affect the plot in multiple locations. That's progress I think. And really, p. 143 on day two of round 3 is actually pretty good anyway.

As I read through it though, I can't help but recall some remarks I recently read in an intro to Les Miserables where the editor comments on how wonderful they are for being the only publisher to stay true to Hugo's desires by publishing an unabridged English edition. I haven't actually read too far in the novel yet, but from what I know about it, I can only say that yes, there is value in having the unabridged edition, but I really believe that if Hugo had had a Word Processor, things might have been a little different. Seriously, how did authors ever get by before they couldn't just click "Find" and get to a part of their novel they knew needed a little revision? I mean, if they had decided to change a character or a place's name at some point in their writing, that's pretty serious paper usage to go back and change it. I would guess such changes didn't happen too often.

Writing definitely gives you a new perspective on writers of the past. However, that is not to say there aren't dangers of modern technologies! For example, if I had printed up my thesis after round 2 and handed it to my professor it would not only have been the simple typos that embarrassed me. I mean, I found some things that simply did not make sense. And why did they not make sense? Because I used a Word Processor function called Find and Replace!

See, at one point in my novel, some of the characters are discussing a few different dance halls. One of them I had originally named Plash, and then in round 2, I changed it to Pier One. How? Find and replace. Well, as it so happened, I forgot to narrow the find to "match case" so it would only change it when the P was capitalized. As a result, in a few places where I have the word "splash" such as when a character observes things going on in the swimming pool and when another character ends up in the botany pond, I had things like this, "I held the bars of the surrounding fence for a second to watch as the basketball sPier Oneed back and forth between the water and the people" and "Sam’s large form plopped into the water with a weighty sPier One."

It looks kind of like subliminal advertising, doesn't it? So yeah. Beware of Find and Replace!

Other Conference Thoughts, Elder Scott

For as long as I remember, Elder Scott has been known for his piercing gaze--the way he looks through the teleprompters right into your eyes--no, not the audience's, yours. He knows you and loves you and has a message for you. He has a nice steady and compassionate voice, too, that makes those sometimes pills easier to swallow. For that, his choice to talk about abuse and address it both to the abused and the abuser seemed interesting, and I think he did it very well.

The sad difference this time though seemed that he's aging and his eyes are dimming. He still did his best, and even turned completely away from the teleprompters at one point, looking off to his right to talk to the audience, someone in the audience over there. It was a powerful moment, but interesting because it didn't seem to have the same impact of feeling that he was talking directly to me, which was fine since I don't think I was implicated in what he was saying. But in essence, it still had the same effect. He knew the person he was talking to, loved them, and had a message for them.

Changes in Presidents of the Church

Changes in the position of the president of the Church haven't generally been easy for me. When I was growing up and in primary, the prophet was Pres. Kimball. I loved the song where we sang all the latter-day prophets and though I don't know that I knew much about what he taught, I knew I loved Pres. Kimball. As I've gotten older, I have become more aware of his teachings and I still love him.

President Kimball died when I was 12 or 13, however, so I had to learn to accept a new prophet. Though I'd been made aware of the procedures of the change when a prophet died, and I even knew President Benson would be the next prophet because I learned a few years earlier that he was the senior apostle and all that (and quite proud to know that, too, I'll add) well, it was still kind of hard to adjust to the change. Before long, I learned to love President Benson too. I remember when I was a young woman the balloon thing and his challenge for us to read the Book of Mormon. That influenced and continues to influence me and my testimony in very positive ways--I still read the Book of Mormon every day. And throughout my adolescence I continued to learn more from his teachings and have been blessed for following them. I love President Benson.

When President Benson passed away I was in my 20s, attending BYU, and I was much more aware of the whole process of things at that point. I even knew ALL of the twelve apostles by name, not just the senior apostle, Pres. Hunter. Perhaps because of that, I learned to love Pres. Hunter before he became the prophet, if only from watching him maintain his calm and handle the situation with Cody Judy at the CES fireside at BYU some short time before Pres. Benson died. I felt the Spirit in that meeting testifying he was a prophet and would be a great president. And indeed, that transition wasn't as hard for me. But Pres. Hunter didn't live long after that, less than a year. Still, during that time he taught some great things and I have kept my temple recommend with me and up-to-date partly because of his teachings about the temple. I love President Hunter.

Of course I was familiar with President Hinckley since he had been around in leadership for so long. I also remember talks that he gave at BYU, and he had touched me with his talks about optimism during a time when I really needed that. But for some reason, it still took me a little while to warm up to him as the prophet. But of course it happened, as it always has. There are so many things I love about President Hinckley now.

But now, some 14 years later, now in my 30s, I'm experiencing the change again. Interestingly, I had been anticipating President Monson for quite awhile, probably not as early as when Pres. Kimball was prophet, but at least by my 20s when I learned how young he was. There was no question in my mind that he would be the prophet some day. And so I've spent several conferences listening to him trying to imagine him as the president of the church, perhaps trying to warm myself early this time. Yet for some reason, although they were fine and good and great and all that for the first counselor, none of his talks before really struck me as what I expected from THE prophet.

So, when President Hinckley did pass away, even as much as I loved President Monson before, I'll confess it's felt a little weird to adjust to him in this new role. But I've had a lot of mixed emotions during all of the funeral proceedings and news and whatnot about President Hinckley, feeling also that there was too much attention paid to him as a man and perhaps to the diminishment of other great men and not acknowledging the mantle as much as they should have. I think that's just the nature of the media and natural proceedings when a great man passes away.

Yesterday, during the solemn assembly, I was grateful for the Spirit I felt sustaining me and confirming to me the Lord's will in the changes. But as I watched conference all day yesterday I still noticed how much I missed having President Hinckley around, conducting one or two of the sessions and ending sessions with a few of his remarks, his unique and wonderful sense of humor and his great attitude. His simple presence. I really missed him.

However, I also had a wonderful experience when the first session ended this morning. When President Monson spoke, I could feel the positive feelings and acceptance of him as the President, and see or feel the mantle of prophet on him. It was a good feeling, something I hadn't imagined and can't describe, but there was a definite difference between his talk and those he's been giving for the many, many years before now. It was nice, too, then, in the afternoon session when Elder Holland began his remarks to make note of that feeling in himself and his indication that many others had felt it too. What a blessing the Lord has given us all to adjust to change, to be able to see and feel that difference! He knows change is hard, not just on me but on a lot of people! Even another apostle. And we need those manifestations. And of course, it's also a testimony that there really is something different, very special and true about having a prophet, a spokesman for the Lord on the Earth today. I love President Monson. But most importantly, I love the Lord Jesus Christ, the head of the Church.

Done or not done

Friday night I felt exhilirated as I finished editing the last section of my thesis for the second time. I knew it wasn't done even at that moment, but it was a nice feeling. The next day I looked through my notebook from school last summer wherein I had jotted down some notes from my peers' comments and remembered some things that needed attention. Later that day I went to a party and was complaining about something I didn't like in a book and remembered something else I needed to do. It was a little discouraging, I have to admit.

I mean, of course I knew there would be more work than just fixing up weak language. But I was actually just looking in the notebook for a list of words to be avoided or minimized--like smile and happy and nod--two nods per novel! That's the rule!--and sigh. Sigh! Isn't it a shame that such good words need to be avoided? But of course, it's only so they can be replaced with better words--like, well, I can't think of any right now. But I know they're out there anyway--okay like exhuberant. like mouth spreading as wide as the whole orange. like bent his head down then looked up sexily through crooked bangs. like exhilirated!

So I guess that's the attitude I need to adopt. Imagine how energized and elated I'll be when all of those other plot and character situations are touched up! It's good to change good things for better, right?

Cohesion, or incohesion, or Cohesiveness or Incohesiveness. ???

A few follow-ups that may or may not cohere, except inasmuch as I will in some way talk about cohesion. Maybe. Maybe not. You know one of the qualities of a hero? Consistency. I learned this in high school. The teacher also pointed out that a hero can be consistently inconsistent. So I still have some hope of being a hero, right? No, a heroine. Even if I don't have a romance? No, that was the other way around, romances can only be for heroines, but not all heroines have to have romances. Though I still think I might like one.

Anyway, so the first, follow-up. I'll call this one Defying Murphy's Law.
Yesterday, the day after my splurge at Dress Barn (okay, so I didn't admit it then, but I'll admit it now--I bought more than just the one pair of pants. I also bought a couple shirts and another pair of pants), I received a coupon in the mail for Dress Barn. Can you believe it? It was for sales from the 12th to the something--anyway, I made my purchase on the 11th. Stink! Well, I figured I could just return them. It was interesting because when I got up yesterday morning, I had kind of wanted to wear one of those outfits, but I felt I shouldn't. Good thing, eh? So, today, I wrapped them back up and took my lunch hour to return my purchases and buy them back. I did think I might give them an opportunity to just give me the $s off amount. But they couldn't do that (I kind of figured they wouldn't). They almost didn't even want to let me return the items and buy them back. She kept reading the coupon for the stipulations saying it couldn't apply to previous purchases and even if I returned them it would still be a previous purchse. Oh brother. Technicalities!

So I just said I'd return them straight out. Why should I be the one with the loss? I couldn't help which day my pants ripped. So that's what I did. Then after I'd returned them, she said she'd ask her manager if she could override the coupon. Of course. See, the solution to Murphy's Law: Attitude. Stick to your guns. I could probably use some help on the right kind of attitude. I mean when I hear work on your attitude in Church, I think of bowing humility and submissiveness, but maybe that's not always the right way to see it. Sometimes stick-to-your-guns attitude is good, right?

The manager said of course they could seel them back and use the coupons. They didn't really need to lose out, here. So they got there sale and I got myself a nice $20 back--and a tote, to boot. Not that I needed the tote. If my totes had some cohesion to them, I could probably sell them all and make more than $20.

Second follow-up. I'll call this one Bookaphobe. No, that's not really it. Abook. Anti-book. Well, maybe a little Bookaphobe. I am getting a little afraid to try new books because I've started so many bombs lately. As for that history book for the fictophile (this is the follow-up part), I couldn't finish it. I did read at least 100 pages. I think that's doing pretty well. But it got to be so much about war tactics that I lost interest. I kept hoping they'd get out of the war. It's not like the Revelotionary War constituted the whole of General Washington's life. I mean, we don't usually even refer to him as General so much as, okay usually we just call him George, but really we remember him as President. I didn't get that far.

So you don't think it's just history book that's putting the snooze on, I'll go on. I've started reading Uncle Tom's Cabin here at work, because it's free online and that's pretty cool. I can look like I'm busy working or something even though I have nothing to do, and it's free. And it's got a lot of history to it, too, so I can feel like I'm doing some duty in that regard. However, it's downright depressing and I think I might be done. I have no idea how many pages I read because that's now how things work online, but I did get into Chapter 16, I believe, out of 40 something. Heh.

And, now so you don't think it's just history I don't like, whether fictionalized or opinionized (is there a difference?), I'll say the next book that I'm struggling with right now is this incohesive fiction book that isn't historical. I mean at least not yet. It's still contemporary. :)

I'm trying to read these LDS fictions so I have at least a little background when I write my critical part about it, and I thought this one series looked pretty a propos, a girl through her high school and college years, and it looked like some romance involved. I didn't buy the first one though, because it didn't look too interesting, and was earlier in high school than concerned me. I did buy the second one, however. In some ways it's actually pretty in-line with what I need--it includes her last year of high school and first year of college. But I'm kind of missing what ties those two years together. I'm much further in this one--like maybe 150-200ish pages? I don't know, and I'm just not seeing the cohesion--what's the threading plot? Conflict? I mean there is conflict, but I thought it was one thing, but now the book is half way over and it's resolved so it's not that. Hmm.

Generally speaking, the cohesiveness in the plot isn't the only thing amiss, though. From the three authors of LDS lit I've read over the past few weeks, I will say that if the LDS fiction market needs anything it's an author who actually knows how to write. I'm not saying that's me, but one is needed. There are LDS people who know how to write, but it doesn't seem to me that they are writing LDS fiction. What a pity.

And then the other thing isn't really a follow-up, but it's about the LDS market and incohesiveness. Just saw the Singles' 2nd Ward movie, and it lacked cohesiveness. Just thought I'd throw that out there, as my incohesive conclusion to this talk about cohesivness.

Or was there something else? I seem to feel the need to keep writing. Is it because I'm cohesed to the computer? No silly, that's adhesive. You're not stuck to the computer. You can leave now.

Oh yea, the other follow-up. See. I'm cohesed! or adhesed or adhered? I don't know. Anyway, so I'll call this one: ReFicto
I'm actually back to writing the creative part, letting the critical part rest for just a little bit, because I thought of a few plot things I needed to add and embellish and stuff, and now I've got to make them cohesive throughout the story. Hee hee hee.

English in America

For awhile, the past few years, I've been troubled by having to work with people whose abilities with the English language really suffered. I'm not talking just about the work-place, though I did have it there for awhile too since my former place of employment was the Foreign Service Institute in the School of Language Studies, working with teachers who had to be native speakers of the language they were teaching. Understandably, that was sometimes challenging, but I haven't been doing that for about a year now and haven't really had so much of an English problem in the work-place since. No, the greater problem has been working with poor English speakers in the "community"--on my personal business.

A few of those experiences include--
*the standard, trying to get tech support for my computer. I don't think my helper was living in the U.S. because his language was not standard U.S. English. That was extremely frustrating.

*trying to understand a pharmacy worker and have her understand me before signing any forms that involved my privacy rights.

*having a bus driver wiggle his head at me rather than speak to me because a person in a wheelchair was boarding the bus and he needed me to move. I hadn't seen the wheelchair and didn't understand what he was doing, so I looked at him quizzically, asked what the problem was, and he just continued to manually indicate to me that I needed to move. Finally another passenger let me know about the wheelchair.

The pharmacist was handled relatively easily--I never returned to that pharmacy. Though I'd already had the computer for a year and wasn't going to return it, I could at least take it to a local repair person. Thank goodness for competition. That's one thing of those great things about America.

But the bus incident was actually the scariest--to think the man driving the bus I was on didn't speak very good English. Could he understand his radio? Reports being given to him?

In some cases, it seems the English question is just a matter of a business's poor decisions about whom to hire for which positions. But the employment question actually takes another turn as well. I've applied for and studied job positions that I considered applying for and felt discriminated against because I didn't speak Spanish. This, for public service positions (in libraries) in the United States. Of course, the job descriptions couldn't say Spanish was required, just preferred. But as the number of people who don't speak English very well continues to increase, you can imagine how much that preference will influence the final hiring decision.

Recently, I learned of something that actually even minimized my hope of things even improving. That is, even if the borders are secured through hopeful legislation, there seems to be no promise that English-language capabilities will improve because, as I learned, the English-language tests for citizen applicants must be very weak.

A friend of mine reported after a day when she was in the jury pool that people had not only been allowed to be excluded but the judge forthrightly asked if their English language was good enough to understand the court proceedings. Why should the judge have any leeway to ask this question? If a person is born into US citizenship and grew up here, they would have gone through the education system and acquired sufficient English. If they became citizens by application, their English should have been tested to assure they could contribute to society including their natural duties as citizens--including jury duty. So apparently there's something wrong in one of these two areas.

Okay, so there is the other possibility that they be citizens born abroad and for whatever reason their citizen parent(s) didn't speak English with them, they didn't acquire it in school or whatever society, and then for whatever reason they just decided to move back to America without speaking a lick of English. Yes, I can see that there are some strong possibilities there.

Of course we know our education system has its problems, but it would seem that since a juror must be at least 18 years old, that at least by the very fact of living and growing up among English speakers the person would acquire sufficient English even if their teachers really stank. Children do tend to want to learn the language of the people around them. Are there really not enough English-speakers around to encourage these youth?

Without belaboring the point, it simply seems more likely the problem lies in the English testing of citizen applicants. So the question is why are the tests so lenient that a person doesn't need to communicate well enough to participate in his/her citizen's duties, such as performing jury duty? Is it because there are so many English speakers out there that we don't really need everyone to speak the only national language? Is it because this duty and honor is really only for natural born citizens? Or maybe jury duty isn't really that important. Our judicial system doesn't need any more lay citizens involved than it has to have already? It just seems to me that there is no good excuse at all for this.

We have enough trouble understanding each other even when we speak the same language that U.S. citizens shouldn't have to deal with additional language barriers when they're conducting personal business in their own country, trying to ensure their safety and rights. But most importantly, since the United States of America's only official language is English, her citizens need to speak this language with sufficient capability to perform all of their duties, which are in fact HONORS, as citizens.