March 18th, 2010


Why nobody puts me in charge of marketing children's clothes.

I was looking at clothes for the elder niecelet's birthday before we decided that we are way too awesome to get her clothes unless they twirl or do something else equally wondrous fine for a 4-year-old, so Legos and a book it is. But anyway, that's not what I meant to say here. What I meant was: I saw a dress in a color they called "grape wreath." And it was, it was that oddly purply brown-grey that you get from dried grapevine twined into wreaths. But initially I misread it as "grape wrath."

That would be so great! They could go one of two ways with that. They could either do the Steinbeck line of children's clothing colors (grape wrath, rosasharn, pony red, pearl, mousy manly grey, cup gold, burning bright orange, travels with chartreuse) or the Harryhausen/giant monster line (grape wrath, godzilla green, mottled mothra, burnt charcoal, city-stomping red). I don't actually like Steinbeck, but for color names he's much better than for actual prose.

No? Well, I liked it.

I should have known when I got these earrings.

Things I like: new story ideas when they have not been so thick on the ground in the last few months.

Things I do not so much like: when those new story ideas use my own family history as a very direct springboard.

I think the only thing for it is to write "Printer's Oak" when it needs to be written and then run it by Mom to make sure there aren't more serial numbers that need filing off for her to be comfortable with me sending it around; on the other hand, when the main character's great-grandparents are printers and a few other things that mine were, I'm not sure how much the serial numbers would come off. It's just that it turns out a lot of things make sense if you figure my great-grandfather was one of the Sidhe, is the thing. I have had this experience of reading history before, but not our history. Mostly the history of the Finns.