A Deaf Child Hears for the First Time
Watch this baby experience the miracle of his mother’s voice for the first time. Baby Jonathan had his cochlear implants turned on at eight months of age.
Archive for May, 2011
Best First Lines of Novels
Do you have a favorite first line of a novel? I certainly do. I am afraid it is not terribly original, it has been overly quoted, but it still grabs me whenever I hear it. I can’t even read these words out loud without getting choked up. (Yeah, I’m a nerd).
My favorite first line from a novel, courtesy of Charles Dickens:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way.”
The folks over at The American Book Review have compiled their picks for the 100 best first lines from novels. The quote above ranked #9. Check out the complete list here.
The Law Library at the University of Michigan
Okay, so this one is going to be hard for me to admit, because I grew up in Ohio and spent a considerable portion of my working career at Ohio State University, but the U of Michigan campus is gorgeous, and their Law library is staggering. In terms of library architecture, Michigan has OSU trounced. (Football is still thankfully another story!)
I was at a library conference last week where the keynote speaker bemoaned this type of gothic, sacred space in libraries. His attitude was that libraries should be a place of laughter, public performances, coffee, and community-building. I actually agree with him on all those points…..but I am convinced libraries must retain a substantial portion of their buildings as quiet places for reading and reflection. If librarians don’t fight for these spectacular spaces, who will?
Many of the great libraries that were built in the late 19th and early 20th century contained these immense reading rooms. Such spaces naturally inspire a quiet awe which is not condusive to coffee shops or group study, which is why they are seldom built in new libraries. Community building has evolved to become an important part of modern librarianship, so I heartily concur with the inclusion of coffee shops and informal space, but I hope there will always be room for such spectacular reading rooms in at least some of our major libraries.
Photos courtesy of Dan Germony and Julie Falk.
Never, never, never, never give up
I have no interest in wrestling, but a few weeks ago as I was doing yard work, my husband ran outside and grabbed me. He insisted I had to come inside to watch an amazing wrestling match in progress. You can imagine my unbridled joy, but I can tell when Bill is really keyed up about something, so I was willing to play along.
What I saw was so staggering, so life-affirming, I am asking the rest of you non-wrestling fans to watch. Anthony Robles was born with only one leg. Refusing to let that stand in the way of his ambitions, he proceeded to become a world-class athlete and chose to compete in mainstream sporting leagues. Ignored by many of the powerhouse wrestling schools, he enrolled at Arizona State University where he embarked on a rigorous training regimen. In order to compensate for his lower body weakness, he focused on what he could do well, which was grapple, develop amazing upper body strength, and simply refuse to quit.
Last month he won first place in the nation. As I watch the video as he wins the NCAA title, I cannot help but think of Winston Churchill’s famous line, “Never, never, never give up.” This kid is awe-inspiring. Here are some clips of Anthony in action on the road to the championship.
On Conquering Anxiety
Somehow, the book-signing has evolved into a right of passage for authors. Frankly, I’d rather have a tooth pulled than talk about myself, hawk my books, or in any other way draw attention to myself. When I first landed the contract for The Lady of Bolton Hill, I assumed I would be one of those writers who quietly published her books without telling friends, co-workers, or neighbors. I simply dread the attention or the perception that I might be trying to foist my books on them. Revealing myself online is easy for me, but in real life?
Anxiety is a strange thing. The logical portion of my brain, normally so dominate in my life, collapses in the face of mild provocations like meeting someone new or attending a book signing. I can marshal a dozen perfectly logical reasons to quell the anxiety, but I’ve been living with this long enough to know that these techniques will be useless in the face of a social interaction.
So along comes an opportunity to participate in a book signing at a nearby LifeWay Christian Store. My instinctive reaction was to run and hide. I know that unless you are a superstar (hello, Tim Tebow, Nora Roberts, Ken Follett), the likelihood of sitting alone at a table while listening to crickets chirp in the background is pretty high. Still, LifeWay has been generous in helping me promote my debut novel, and I simply could not repay that sort of kindness by letting anxiety get the better of me and refusing to come.
How fortunate I was to have two other seasoned authors sitting at the table with me. Mark Mynheir is a homicide detective who writes suspense novels, and Dan Walsh is a pastor and author of historical novels. Not only were these guys terrific company who helped show me the ropes, they both had plenty of experience in dealing with the public and book signings. There was also a lovely young lady named Rebekah who did a wonderful job as a greeter for the event.
As is often the case with these irrational anxieties, within about five minutes of entering the store I was perfectly fine. I have learned the only thing that works to defeat an attack of The Nerves is to meet it head on in a frontal assault. I am always fine once I get to an event (a party, business meeting, etc.) but the run-up is awful.
So my first book signing turned out to be a thrilling event. I moved a respectable number of books, met some terrific fellow-authors, and felt much better about not letting my amorphous anxieties get the better of me.
Still… to this day not a single one of my neighbors or co-workers know that I’ve written a novel, nor are they likely to in the near future. I suppose I need to take this sort of thing one day at a time!