For the most part, being a guide dog means a lot of “down time.” There’s a lot of lying down on the job, which is actually far more boring than you might imagine. Needless to say, Yara doesn’t jive with that at all. So, now and again — and by that I mean freakishly often — she lets off a bit of that pent up energy.

Truly, it’s a dog’s life because you just know I’d never get away with playing with a tennis ball or lounging around at my job!

Turns out, yes, there is a balance. It’s the balance for the bill that just generated yesterday. You know, that one I haven’t gotten yet?

Anyway, after mucking about for the better part of two hours I find out the automated call was from Sprint. As in my old cell carrier who royally screwed me when I lost my phone last month. The clincher is that I’ve settled that account, as far as I am aware at least, which I was very disinclined to do since they were overcharging me for a bunch of stuff. (And no, they aren’t being very forthcoming in paying me back any of those exorbitant charges.)

In short, I’m developing a serious hate on for Sprint. And while I’ve never before felt the need to firmly advocate against using a company, I’m most definitely at that point now. Ugh. Just ugh!

Together, we are made of adorable! And after Yara was done crawling all over me, my pants were made of dog hair.

Jean joked that this is our “customary photo” because she seems to get this same pose of us every time we get portraits done.

Yara, looking quite happy with her new fleece lamb toy. Along with her harness and a bag of treats, it served as the noisemaker to get her attention focused on the camera for our shots together. Of course, first we had to get her to stop playing with it and licking the floor. Yeah, I don’t know either.

This shot of Yara with her nose shoved in my leather-bound copy of The Lord of the Rings was supposed to be the oft-mentioned holiday thank you card. Pretty amazing what a single Zuke’s treat in my hand can wield, eh?

This adorable shot of Yara and her fleece lamb toy is part of the thank you card/gift for any donors sponsoring us to this year’s Walk for Fidelco.

1. The shots I wanted were attempted back in November when we had our holiday cards done. Except because of some serious child distraction at the time, we didn’t get many good shots beyond the holiday card. And then things kept coming up and delaying the next appointment, like Yara having hot spots and me getting the flu.

I’ll be the first to emphasize the absolute suck that is the short end of this particular stick. I completely embrace the fact it’s a double standard of epic proportions. And if given the option I would stamp my feet, shove my fingers in my ears, and hum as loudly as possible to ignore it. Except I don’t. Not that I have the ability to always reply cheerily with every fact a person might desire. But I do my best to not be curt with people and take the time if I have it. Basically, I try to remember what my father said and keep in mind that this is one more person being educated about blindness and/or guide dogs; hopefully that person will be a ripple in a pond with the information. And for as much as this double standard irritates me, I’ve recently come to realize that I’m even more infuriated by the ignorance on the part of my fellow blinks and/or guide dog users.

Now before you get your canes all tangled up, let me ease your minds a bit. I’m not saying we’re ignorant about being blind or even about how to share worthwhile information about blindness with the sighted public. No, what I’m noticing is a much more profound issue: people who are ignorant of independence. Let’s face it, the general public think of any disability as cause for pity and coddling. They may not mean those things in the context of the supreme negativity associated with the precise definitions of those words, but it doesn’t change the fact. And it isn’t even something that’s distanced to the public — it’s often just as present in a disabled person’s own family.

Where am I going with all this? Well, more and more I’m noticing rather vocal blinks, and guide dog handlers alike, who proudly are announcing to the world how independent they are. And their examples of this absolutely boggle my entire mind. I’ll concede the point that complete self-reliance is nearly impossible. But when you use examples of dependence as your evidence of being independent, it doesn’t make a case for you or the rest of the blind population. It makes us ALL look like a bunch of incompetent schlubs. It only reinforces the public’s feeling that we need to be coddled and that they should pity us for our sad little lives. It sends the message that we really aren’t capable of anything more than adding to that 80% unemployment rate amongst the blind. Going back to my original point, it also breeds all those stupid questions from the public that make me mentally roll my eyes. In short, it makes those of us who actively work at our independence suffer.

What truly bewilders me is how this happened? Is this a chicken-or-the-egg type thing? Was the ignorance of a blind person’s abilities always lost on the blind themselves or has the general ignorance grown so widespread that the blind also have become infected by it?

Either way, I find myself at the same conclusion: Educating the general public is hard enough without needing to educate the blind population, too.

Having recently read The Hunger Games I’m more acutely aware of how strange a combination having first-person perspective told in the present-tense in a young adult novel is.¹ Ryan manages this rather obscure technique quite adeptly, but I still find it an adjustment to make when reading. Once moving past this, though, I found this sophomore effort quite masterfully written. Ryan’s style has an almost antique feel to it that gives her world a rustic quality that is both beautiful and fraught with peril.

While this is not a direct sequel to The Forest of Hands and Teeth, many of the lingering questions raised from the previous book are answered. However, this being the middle of three separate books, there is even more left hanging at the end. That in itself is not a bother to me, but the fact that so much of this book’s plot seems recycled from its predecessor did unnerve me a bit. I’ve long since grown weary of the often used love-triangle angle, and since this is a big plot point of the first book I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at its nearly identical usage here. That isn’t to say the characters in this book are just recycled elements; Gabry in particular is nothing like Mary which may actually be a weakness in some cases. I’m never more happy to read about strong, empowered female characters . . . and while other characters in the book seem to claim this of Gabry, I’ll have to agree with her on this one: she isn’t. And even when she starts to seem like she is a few paragraphs later she’s back to sniveling and wanting to run away or blaming herself for, well, everything. I give her the grace at least to assume there’s an arc planned, but if it was in this book I clearly missed it.

The most refreshing element of this second book is the deeper mythology Ryan has created with her zombie world. Many of the more peculiar elements from the first book are explored in further detail, explanations are given and histories are revealed. Much like the characters, the reader is shown that there is far more than a tiny village lost in the Forest and that there is indeed a vast, and possibly intricate, world beyond. Frankly, the enormity of it all is almost horrifying, which just adds to the thrill of the book. And, lest I forget to mention it, all this is accomplished without relying on being overtly gory as so many other horror writers do. Since I’m easily squicked out, I can’t begin to express how much this pleases me.

Yet, I have to admit, I still can’t fully determine my feelings on this “companion” novel. In some ways I feel it’s lacking in comparison to the first book and in others I feel that it truly surpasses it. And the more I go round-and-round about it, the more confused my thoughts seem to get. I do think Ryan has only grown as a writer and my personal appeal for the book is no doubt due to this. However, I can’t quite shake my irritation at the repetition present. So, mostly I’m just focusing on the inevitable third book that wraps all this up.

1. It should be noted this issue has little to do with The Hunger Games (which is an awesome series I think everyone should read), but most probably entirely the fault of Mark since he’s the one who brought it up and thus made me so vividly aware of it.

Goldman sells The Princess Bride as a book of “true love and high adventure” and it’s a true fact. The book is one that any fan of fantasy, adventure, and/or romance could easily find enjoyable. It’s got sword fights and pirates and giants and monsters and poison and torture and oh so very much more. But the real thing that makes The Princess Bride unique is that it’s a big, fat lie. All of it. And it’s done so incredibly well that you could very easily read it cover to cover and believe that Goldman took this piece of literature and abridged the “good parts” out; you could get sucked into his reasoning for doing it and accept all his anecdotal tales that are woven throughout the book starting with the various forewords and narration notes. The fact that Goldman could write all that so well and make it that believable is exactly why I find this book so entirely brilliant.

Like pretty much everyone, I found the book after seeing the film. I’m a huge fan of the film. So, I find it difficult to talk about one without mentioning the other. But if you haven’t read the book, be forewarned it’s not exactly the same. It’s just as tongue-in-cheek as the film and in many ways the book is even less serious than the film. After all, it’s a fictional story attempting to be a historically based fairy tale and because of that it is inherently not serious. Goldman spends a lot of time in his various notations seemingly justifying the historically accurate nature of this and that. Often he spends pages digressing completely from the story in a fashion that could easily be described as babbling. His timing is usually at the most integral part of action or suspense, dragging out the effect or sometimes even spoiling a major point before it happens in an effort to “warn” the reader. In any other context these things would no doubt detract from the book, but it’s all so lighthearted and silly that it only manages to reinforce the fact that you this is a book best read with a large helping of salt.

The tale itself is pure epic fantasy. The narrative is possibly most notable for its anachronistic slant, which Goldman often justifies in parenthetical asides that admit such-and-such event occurred well after the invention of what one would perceive as somewhat modern. In a way it reminds me a lot of Lewis Carroll in how he justifies Alice’s actions and thought processes throughout her adventures, but Goldman is even more overt even to the point of mockery. The dialogue is possibly some of the best comedy every written, in my opinion, and those familiar with the film will find that many of the most famous lines actually originated from the book.

Due to time constraints, the film isn’t able to show the back-stories of some of these beloved characters. And while it is again an example of how Goldman drags out the plot and suspense of the novel, I can’t help but be fascinated by the intricate histories of Inigo and Fezzik. The novel is, in fact, almost completely taken over by their respective histories. And while they are undoubtedly integral parts of the tale, Westley and Buttercup seem more like the secondary characters when the action really heats up. Of course, everyone — villains included — have their fair share of moments to shine and no one is left unexplored. If you have the time, I’d definitely recommend taking the time to watch the film again after reading the book as you will probably end up taking a lot more meaning from some of the seemingly throwaway lines.

As one of my personal favorites, this is a book I find myself constantly campaigning friends (and others) to read. It’s one that manages to contain a little something for anyone’s interest and especially those who are already fond of the film. While fake abridgments are not Goldman’s invention, his approach is incredibly unique and masterfully well-written.

1. Unless I ever decide to try and write one for The Lord of the Rings.

But the downsides won out for me: First, and possibly most important, it’s not cheap and being that I already spend a good portion of my salary parading books passed my face I couldn’t justify a $250+ purchase on top of that amount. I’m also woefully behind on my to-read list and having such a device would only further expose me to books I could buy. And, let’s be honest, I really enjoy the aesthetic quality of holding a real book in my hands and even with digital copies, there will always be books that I want the real thing of on my shelf.¹

So, I decided I’d wait. Perhaps the price would drop off a bit or someone would get me one for a preset. Who knew? Well, turns out Amazon did because just last week they released the Kindle software for free. Now you can download it to your computer or certain cell phones. Oh, joyous day! I hopped right onto the website and downloaded the Blackberry edition and loaded the Kindle software on all of my computers and then I spent about fifteen seconds of debate with myself about whether to start looking at books to buy. I decided the clincher for me would be if some of the new authors I’d been recommended and subsequently pre-ordered had their books on Kindle . . . and they did and so I swapped out my pre-orders for the digital editions . . . and before I knew it I was already hooked and already happily engrossed in reading a book via my netbook.

Here’s the thing, there’s more than a handful of contemporary authors whom I follow and impatiently await their next release. But the more authors you follow, the more other authors you start hearing about² and in my experience the results have been iffy at best. Sometimes I can get the book from the library, but more often the author is so obscure that it takes forever to get my hands on the book. When I buy the book, I’m often left with something I don’t really want to keep and most often can’t return. And while there are times I can find someone to give it to, that’s not always the case. So, my shelf space gets eaten up until I find the time for a trip to the library to donate books or the semi-frequent Buck-a-Book sale at State Ed. The two things about the free Kindle software that make me very happy are that: (1.) I didn’t have to plunk down $250+ to get yet another electronic device that I’d have to lug around and could instead use my very portable netbook; and, (2.) I can check out these constantly appearing recommendations without putting anything down³ and even if I did buy the book I am no longer bound by the need for shelf space or the dilemma of whether to keep the book or not. Not to mention, Kindle books are (at least presently) the cheapest edition of any book.

As I said, there are books I know I’ll always want a physical copy of and I’m sure there will be ones I first purchase on Kindle and decide I’d like to add to my ever-shrinking shelf space. So, I must admit I have great fear for my wallet so we’ll see how I feel about all this in a month or two. For now, though, I’m rather pleased by the whole thing.

1. Among many others examples, there’s nothing that will ever replace my autographed books or my leather-bound editions of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and The Lord of the Rings.
2. And that’s not even getting into the friends and family recommendations I receive!
3. Samples (usually the first chapter or so) are free.

I’ve discovered that she’s also just as much a non-fan of Mondays as I am. Yesterday morning I called her to breakfast and instead of bounding to the kitchen and making a total obstacle of herself while I make her food up, she crawled under my bed! There’s a theory on Facebook that she’s got one of those “I hate Mondays” cat posters under there. Personally I wouldn’t be remotely surprised. The underside of my bed is a treasure trove of toys and bones and I imagine it’s quite cushy and insulated, given all the dog hair that accumulates under there no matter how often I sweep it out. I don’t rule out the possibility that she’s creating a fort and that soon a sign pronouncing “no guide dog handlers allowed, this means you” will be prominently displayed.

This morning I had an interesting experience while waiting for the bus: There is an elderly man who frequently rides the morning bus and he is, for lack of a better description, exceedingly odd. For instance, he often has entire conveersations with himself which include rousing arguments. He’s also prone to being quite irritable for no reason I can determine other than the standard of being old, so I try and keep my distance on the off chance he might start yelling at me. Anyway, today he proceeded to give Yara a lecture on the bus schedule. And yes, he really was directing this to Yara. I am sure of this considering he was looking down at her at the time and kept interjecting how he was sure she understood all this. “You get all this, don’t you? Of course you do. Such a smart girl!” Yeah, I don’t know either; it was simultaneously entertaining and mind-boggling.

My lovely Yara is an interesting study in dichotomies. On the one hand she is always so very concerned and hyper observant when I decide to spend an inordinate amount of time in bed, for instance when I don’t feel well. However, she also seems to simultaneously be working towards willing me better so that I might get my unwell self up and play with her.

And there are some you who wonder why I don’t bother paying for cable.

As a person who constantly is having to correct people that there are in fact absolutely zero “i’s” in my whole name, I find this greatly amusing. In fact, I screen-capped it for posterity because I am full of myself.

Maureen Johnson has a most glorious and informative blog post about how authors should deal with negative reviews. I’d read it awhile back, but was reminded of it today on Twitter and thought I’d pass it along. I especially love her point about how anyone can (and probably will) review anything. Moreover, there isn’t some magic test one must complete or set of credentials one needs acquire before being bestowed the prestigious ability to write a review.

EDIT: The most awesome John Scalzi also has a terrific blog post from a few days ago regarding owning and accepting one-star reviews. He posts a few snippets of some of his one-star reviews and notes how it’s important for authors to understand that no matter how awesome they may feel their work is (and may well be!), not everyone will like it and in turn they probably won’t keep quiet about it. I do absolutely adore Scalzi and how thoroughly mature he is about, well, everything. This is yet another wondrous example.

Anyway, I highly recommend taking a peek at both posts if you have not already been checking out these great blogs. And certainly feel free to browse through the rest of both of their sites while you’re at it.

With that, I’m really forever and truly done. *mwahs!*

1. Stay tuned! Portraits are coming soon!

I’m completely amused at how ridiculously out of proportion the packaging is to this wee mass market size paperback. Granted it isn’t the first time I’ve had this happen, but I am pretty sure this is a record extreme in my experience. I just can’t get over all that wasted paper!

1. Similarities in book discovery and friending to another author are purely coincidental. Though, do work in my favor with regards to her allegations that I added her for some motive I’m not privy to.

It’s not even worth the energy to type it all out because in the end, I do believe, this comment ends it all [emphasis mine]:

I’m an editor at one of the better-known publishing houses in North America, and the office was abuzz with this situation as an example of a deal-breaker when looking to sign on new authors. Ms. Malone’s excessively immature reaction to what was actually some very gentle criticism guarantees that she has no future in print other than with vanity presses. Believe me, we do use [G]oogle.

I just wanted to let you know; feel free to include this tidbit in your blog. :)

I’d also like to give a shout out to Goodreads, who not only responded to me personally about the attacks posted on their website and sent to me in a private message, but they subsequently removed her as a Goodreads author. A no-tolerance policy for personal attacks is exactly why I am so proud to be a librarian on the site.

Lastly, I want to extend a very warm thank you to Kat Richardson and Sam Hilliard for being awesome enough to let me vent about this to them on Twitter. You guys are full of win and that has nothing to do with how amazing your books are. (The books are just an added perk.) And to everyone else who was so supportive and kind about this, I sincerely appreciate it and dearly thank you as well.

I heart you all so much. :-)

Instead, I want to talk about pity.

I don’t really have much experience with it — giving or receiving. I think pity is a waste of time; empathy and sympathy are much more productive emotions. The way I see it, pity is not just feeling sorry for someone, but looking down at them for what you feel sorry about. Pitying someone really is a backwards way of making you feel better about yourself. That person being pitied has some negative attribute about them that you are inwardly glad to not have yourself.

Being blind I know there are people out there in the wide world who pity me. They’re the people who think it’s totally amazing that I can manage to dress myself in the morning with clothes that match and would be shocked into disbelief to know that I’m currently pursuing my second and third graduate degrees. They’re the people who use my own disability as an excuse for things, especially when it is completely not applicable. They’re pretty much everything that I despise about the world wrapped up in a person. And the worst part, they actually think they’re in the right!

But I’ve rather thankfully never had the opportunity to meet this head on. Ignorance drives me quite literally crazy with fury, so I’m sure that I wouldn’t handle it very well. Of course, as I’m sure most of you are fully aware of, I’m not exactly lacking in self-confidence or self-esteem. I don’t think I’m the greatest person in the universe, but I’m kind of sure I’m at least a little awesome. Sometimes. Even when the world seems bent on trying to prove otherwise, I can generally let it go. And so while something might get under my skin and pester me, it’s never the end of the world. It’s just another one of those things.

I’ve also learned through a lifetime of being blind and more than a dozen years working guide dogs that people will inevitably believe what they want to. They see what they want to and make their own conclusion. And no matter how intelligently you try to explain to them what really happened, they will still believe what they wish to. In fact, if anything the arguing just makes them dig their heels in more. Challenging a belief is like the worst taboo in life, even a stupid or insignificant belief. I think sometimes the more illogical a belief is, the more that person will fight to maintain it.

If life has taught me anything in my three decades it’s that it is hardly worth it. The people who matter are those that expect to be challenged in their outlook on things; they thrive on learning and growing and in turn they help you learn and grow, too. Those people are way more awesome than I’ll ever be, by the way.

When I made my sorta-kinda resolution to get back into book blogging/reviewing, I may have forgotten that people don’t always take negative criticsm well. As of this morning I am fully reminded.

A little over a week ago I posted a review of Crimson Rose. Frankly, I didn’t much like it. Initially on Goodreads I’d given it a two-star rating, but after thinking more about it I realized that the complaints I had with the book easily would have left me not even bothering to rate the book. Heck, I probably wouldn’t have finished it if I weren’t inexplicably drawn to the soap opera slash train wreck narrative. So, after a day or so I dropped a star. I didn’t edit a word of the review. Not a word. I never do with reviews, except when I notice a typo because I’m super anal like that.

This morning I receive a message from the author, R. Malone, with the subject line of “Fuck You, Jealous BITCH”. [ETA #4: Message removed by demand of author on grounds of copyright infringement.] The message itself is filled with profanity. After she inquires about my removal of the star and notes the disappearance of a comment I posted where I affirm some interest in reading the potential sequel based on the excerpts she has posted, she then begins to attack me. She states: “I’m finished putting up with jealous bitches like you, Cyndy. I guess if this first book goes to shit thanks to bitches like YOU, that’s perfectly fine. I don’t give a fuck anymore, I really, really don’t.” She ends the note by boasting that my negativity has done absolutely no harm to her book’s sales.

I’ll give her props for two things: (1.) She spelled my name right! (2.) She’s got guts. Though, possibly not so much sense. Especially if she thinks something like that is going to stay private with an avid blogger.

[ETA: I forgot to address the comment deletion. (Though, I did reply in the Goodreads review thread.) I didn't delete them, whether the author chooses to believe this or not. I noted that much of my activity on Goodreads has been having some issues -- including missing comments, unregistered votes, my missing wishlist on Bookswap, and supposedly receiving a book that was sent to Little Rock, AR -- and that I've been in contact with Support about these issues. (Their last reply was to tell me they're "researching the issues.")]

Of course, that wasn’t nearly enough; she also left a comment on my profile and started attacking me on the review at Goodreads. [ETA #3: Her comments have since been deleted/edited by her. (Though, not before I flagged them for being slanderous and inappropriate.)] Apparently she reported the review. But I’m still very confused how my participation in NaNoWriMo for the last decade has any relevance to my disliking a book. Especially when I was pretty darn tactful. I could have easily ripped it to shreds in the review — I’ve done it before — but I actually didn’t want to. I mean, I didn’t hate the book. And let’s be honest, I knew she was going to read it and I didn’t want to start a, well, exactly this.

Does it make me a bad person that I’m laughing at the lack of maturity here?

ETA #2: Ah, she did finally answer my question about the Nano reference. Apparently, she’s under the impression that I feel I could write a better book, but since I’m obviously unpublished¹ my critique is hardly relevant. I didn’t realize that my status as a reader was hindered because I don’t have my name in a fancy font on a book cover. Go figure.

Edit the Last: As of 5:00 PM, I am shutting off comments to this post and ceasing any further response. I received a reply from Goodreads regarding the flagging of the original comments on the review there. They have deleted her comment from my profile and sent her a warning. Thanks everyone for your support. Let’s all move on, please.

1. I’m guessing my inclusion in sociology journals doesn’t count. After all, those were just academic papers, right?