Serendipitous Times

You know it's cold when...

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sat, 17 Jan 2009 11:43:00 +0000

George, the cancer-sniffing schnauzer

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 10:45:00 +0000

I’m not a big fan of schnauzers in general, having been on the sharp end of their rather short tempers one too many times when I worked as a veterinary technician. However, I found one schnauzer who’s worthy of acclaim. His name was George.
After an illustrious and action-packed career as a bomb-sniffing dog, you’d think George would be ready for a quiet retirement; a soft couch and a pantry full of Milk Bones. Instead, like many baby boomers, he moved on to his second career: cancer sniffing dog. See, a dog’s sense of smell is 220 MILLION times stronger than a human’s. They can detect trace amounts of bomb ingredients and drugs; can even pick out money that was simply handled at the same time as narcotics. So a few brilliant individuals made a wide intuitive leap—what if a dog’s sensitive sniffer could be trained to pinpoint cancer cells?
The experiment was a sound success. After training, George could correctly identify skin melanomas 99.7% of the time. He even saved one patient’s life, by repeatedly indicating a mole on the man’s skin which had been examined by three separate doctors and biopsied twice, with negative results. George’s persistence caused doctors to completely excise the mole and send it for cell-by-cell analysis. It was found to be a Stage II melanoma. If it had been left untreated for one more year, the man would probably have died of cancer.
Unfortunately, George succumbed to a brain tumor in 2000. But his work has opened up doors for research to continue in this field, and for more dogs to prove, once and for all, that they are indeed man’s best friend.
Haven’t read Surviving Serendipity? What are you waiting for?http://tinyurl.com/6z3gp3

Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 10:38:00 +0000

The most common question people ask me is, “How do you come up with this stuff?” Okay, this is kind of embarrassing, but I’ll spill. You want to know how I really come up with all these ideas for books? I play pretend. In my head. And yes, I’m 28 years old.
See, it starts like this; I’ll get an idea. Just a flash, like a mini-scene from a movie trailer. I’ll see a character, and then—I start playing her. Acting out scenes in my head.
The really sad thing is that I’m jealous of all my characters. Insanely jealous. I would love nothing more than to be abruptly abducted to a faraway planet, only to have my true identity as royalty revealed. I would kill for a chance to be able to talk to spirits, to move in the world of the undead. And shape-shifting into a wolf? I shudder with longing.
So, I guess you could say my inspiration is a lust for adventure. And until the time when I can live my own, you can keep reading about them.
Haven’t read Surviving Serendipity? What are you waiting for? http://tinyurl.com/6z3gp3

Moonlight

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 12:40:00 +0000

On Saturday night, a special lunar event was happening; the moon, by some trick of perception that scientists aren’t even able to fully explain, appeared larger than at any other time during 2009. At least, I think it did. We were having a big nasty blizzard here, so I didn’t get to see it.
Am I weird for liking the fact that the scientists can’t explain the phenomenon? I write fantasy and supernatural thrillers, and in order to do my job right (or, at least, this is what I tell myself) I sort of have to believe in dragons and unicorns and, well, magic.
I got a t-shirt right before Christmas that I haven’t even worn yet; it says, “Magic is all the stuff science hasn’t made boring yet.” Here’s hoping they fail to explain a lot more in the future.
Oh, and since I missed this particular astronomical event, I searched some of the others coming up in 2009. My favorites are:
Meteor Showers: April 21-22, May 5-6, July 28-29, August 12-13, October 21-22, November 17-18, December 13-14
Lunar Eclipses: July 7, August 6,
July 1, 2009) — Uranus stationary (yes, I am incredibly immature)The body appears motionless in the sky due to the turning point between its direct and retrograde motion.

Haven’t read Surviving Serendipity? What are you waiting for? http://tinyurl.com/6z3gp3

THERE he is!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 03:16:00 +0000

sunshine

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 10:40:00 +0000

Ever since being “assigned” this blog topic, I’ve had that stupid song, “You Are My Sunshine,” playing in my head. Of course, I don’t know all the words (are there even any more words?), so all I’m hearing is, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happeeeee, when skies are grey, you’ll never know deeeear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine awaaaaay.” Cute, right? Sing that about fifty times back to back in an annoying squeaky little kid’s voice, and see how cute it is. Blech.
Of course, part of this is because sunshine has become such a touchy topic here in the Poconos. Sunshine is great; it’s warm and bright and cheerful. However, when you radiate sunshine onto a canopy of white snow, you get watery eyes and possibly permanently damaged retinas.
Sorry, I’m bitter. I miss summer.

Haven't read Surviving Serendipity yet? What are you waiting for? http://tinyurl.com/6z3gp3

coffee?

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 00:29:00 +0000

why I hate literary fiction

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 01:11:00 +0000

I've been brooding over this topic for over a week now, after a very disappointing experience with the book Blindness, by Jose Saramago. I was really excited about it; the back cover promised an innovative, unique story. However, when I began to read, I found several things missing. Like punctuation; there was nothing beyond periods and commas. I don't even remember seeing a question mark. Conversations between characters took place in the same sentence, the only indication of a change in speaker the capitalization of that speaker's dialogue. I only got about halfway through the book, but essentially it was like reading one long run-on sentence.
There were also no character names. People were referred to as the doctor, the doctor's wife, the taxi driver, the thief, the girl in the dark glasses, the boy with a squint.
This is not the first time this has happened to me. I'm an avid reader, so I pick up pretty much any book that gets buzz. And I'm often disappointed to find either a wonderful story, hidden in the debris of an 'innovative' writing technique, or a bad story so completely camouflaged by flowery, distracting writing that the reader doesn't even realize how bad the story is until the end, when all the characters have died horribly, and you're left unfulfilled and mildly nauseated.
For me, you don't need to mess with the language to make a book beautiful. The story should do that. There are good writers and there are great writers, but the purpose of the writing shouldn't be to exist for its own sake. It's there to draw you in, to make you forget you're reading and make you believe, instead, that you've just fallen into a dream. It's kind of like the Oscars; there's a reason that awards like Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design are relatively minor awards. You don't make a movie about the background or the clothes; those things are just there to make you believe that what you're seeing is real.
Now, please understand, there are books which are classified as literary fiction which I've actually enjoyed. But even experts in the genre admit that classifying it is tricky. But overall, I think that fiction should be about the beauty of the house you've built, not all the cool things you can do with the hammer.

Jacquelyn Sylvan
Author, Surviving Serendipity
www.sylvaniamania.com

The Hollow (Book Two of the Sign of Seven Trilogy) by Nora Roberts

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 15:39:00 +0000

The Hollow (Book Two in the Sign of Seven trilogy), by Nora Roberts
What Happens: Layla, another newcomer to the Hollow, explores her very personal connection to the malignant happenings intensifying around her—and her feelings for Fox, one of the men who’s spent his life protecting the town from a demon. Meanwhile, Cal, Quinn, Gage and Cybil continue delving into the past to divine their future.
Why I Picked It Up: Roberts hooked me with the first book in the trilogy, Blood Brothers.
What I Liked: The second book was like watching an artist fill in their charcoal outlining with watercolor; the story began to bloom. And even those characters who weren’t necessarily the focus of this book began to take on more life.
What I Didn’t: Layla gets on my nerves. For real.
What Was Different: My answer to this is similar to the last one; the interesting mix of themes and personalities.
Overall: Me gusta. Four and a half Cheez-Its out of five.

Blood Brothers (Book One of the Sign of Seven Trilogy) by Nora Roberts

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 00:59:00 +0000

Blood Brothers (Book One in the Sign of Seven trilogy), by Nora Roberts
What Happens: Cal, Fox and Gage, three men who’ve been boys since childhood, have their lives interrupted by Quinn, an author investigating the supernatural happenings that occur every seven years in the town of Hawkins Hollow.
Why I Picked It Up: My mother recommended it; I’m not usually a Nora Roberts fan.
What I Liked: The beauty of the friendship between the three boys as they grew older (through flashbacks, of course) is moving, as is their struggle in child- and young adult-hood to protect their town from evil.
What I Didn’t: The story really got me, but the characters didn’t move me very much in this book.
What Was Different: The book was a really interesting combination of themes; think Stand By Me meets The Exorcist.
Overall: Very good, especially when the other two books in the trilogy are taken into account; personally, I think most of the book’s shortcomings stem from the extensive groundwork Roberts must lay here to support the series. Four Cheez-Its out of five.

wow...

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 03:44:00 +0000

I am currently in a mild state of shock. I just finished writing the sequel to Immortal Moon, my werewolf thriller which is currently being pitched to publishers by my agent.

I have now written four books, one of which has been published. After writing Surviving Serendipity, I had this horrible fear...what if I can't do it again? Now I know I can.

So, this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for my crazy, messed up brain, which so far has continued to supply me with enough story material to keep writing.

I love you, grey matter.

a leetle surprise for the candidates...

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 01:27:00 +0000

I cannot WAIT until Wednesday. Why, you ask? Because it's the day after election day, which means that all the stupid radio and television commercials and phone calls to my home phone will cease.

Martin and I have been getting an average of three phone calls a day, both automated and from party volunteers, asking us to vote for this person or that person. So, we stopped answering the phone. However, one plucky little volunteer, Simone, from the Immigration Something-Or-Other (an organization that stood by to register new citizens at Martin's swearing-in, which has been downright exuberant with my husband's new voter status and has insisted on calling us once a week since April to congratulate him), actually CALLED BACK when she got cut off by the answering machine's two minute time limit. At which point, I picked up the phone and politely but firmly explained that we had all the information we needed and that they could stop calling now.

Well, they might have stopped, but the rest of the candidates, who seem to have at least five volunteer organizations apiece working on their behalf, haven't. So, I left a little surprise for them on my answering machine.

"Hi, you've reached Martin and Jackie. We can't come to the phone right now, but please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and we'll get back to you as soon as we can.

"Also, we are aware that Tuesday is Election Day. We know who we're voting for, and where we're voting. So, if you leave us a message asking us to vote for you, we WILL hunt you down and sic our dog on you.

"Have a nice day!"

mocking virginity?

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 23:35:00 +0000

I'm sure you've all heard about the controversy surrounding the MTV VMA's on Sunday night. If you haven't, here's a summary: British comic Russell Brand mocked the Jonas Brothers' donning of "purity" or "promise" rings, calling it a waste (to paraphrase) since the members of the very hot boy band could sleep with any woman they wanted to. Shortly after, Jordin Sparks defended wearing purity rings, since, "not every guy or girl wants to be a slut."

Okay, here's the thing, for me, at least. I'm not a fan of purity rings, in most circumstances. An article I read a few months ago described the process now adopted by a number of conservative churches, where girls, in a special ceremony, stand up before their fathers and their church and make a vow not to have sex before they're married. My problem is that a fair number of these girls were eleven or twelve. Girls of that age (at least in my experience, having been one, and knowing several) are pretty darn fickle. Exacting a solemn vow which, depending on circumstances, they could be expected to uphold for the next fifteen years, seems a little unrealistic to me.

I'm going to go out on a limb here, one that might get me into a little bit of trouble. I am not against teen sex. I am against IRRESPONSIBLE teen sex. And, of the following, who is more likely to have unprotected sex; the well-educated teenager, who makes a mature decision to have sex with her boyfriend and plans accordingly, or the teen who has sworn before her family and God that she won't have sex before marriage, pays no attention in Sex Ed because she doesn't think she needs to, and then succumbs in the heat of the moment to her boyfriend in the backseat of a car? I think it's pretty clear.

However, the choice to have or not have sex is a personal one. Granted, I may not agree with flaunting your virginity or lack thereof by the wearing of a ring, and I have an inkling that purity rings, for the Jonas Brothers, are an image-reinforcing prop to ensure Disney re-ups their contract, but I don't know them, so I don't know for sure.

What I do know is this; no one, virgin or slut, deserves to be harassed for their choice. Especially not on national TV. Not to mention that Russell Brand, by mocking them, sent a message to every teen and pre-teen watching...virgins aren't cool. Not true. AIDS isn't cool. Teenaged welfare moms aren't cool. This whole perception of virginity as a sort of loser's brand...hey, just because someone's a virgin doesn't mean they haven't had offers. It just means that, for their own personal reasons, they chose to say thanks, but no thanks.

I'd really like to hear your thoughts on this topic, so please feel free to post a response to my blog, or message me, if you're shy.

dogs and books...what a great combo!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 01:38:00 +0000

I did a signing and sale yesterday at Stroudfest, Stroudsburg's yearly arts and crafts festival. I had a great time, and not only because of all the wonderful people who came by and bought my books, but I also met some really great, non-human friends.

I set up a "doggy watering station" for all the thirsty canines accompanying their owners to the festival. I met dogs like Shiloh, who was up for adoption, Rex, who was going home with his new owners later that afternoon, Winnie, a huge Great Dane who could have kissed me on the lips without even standing on her toes (and was second only to a parched bulldog in the sloppy drinking contest!), but I have to say my favorite was Henry, my new best friend and infamous MilkBone mooch. And there were dozens more, whose names I don't remember, but who helped to make my day go quickly and enjoyably with lots of sloppy puppy kisses and wagging tails.

So, thanks to all the owners who brought their "babies" over to make my day yesterday. Hope to see you at my next event!

jlh sells out...or gives in

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 22:33:00 +0000

I was tossing around the idea of this blog yesterday, but I'm glad I waited, since now I've got even more fodder to discuss.

The first thing that triggered the idea of this blog was a comic in yesterday's paper. I think it's called Zits, but I'm not sure. It was only two frames long. The first frame showed two teenaged girls greeting each other. Out loud, they say, "Hi." But both of their inner dialogues go something like this.

"Weird haircut, did she shave her legs? is she really wearing that middy shirt? what's with those cuffed shorts, are you kidding me? omg, look at her shoes. seriously, tweeze much?"

The second frame is two teenaged boys greeting each other. Out loud, they say, "Hi." And that's it.

The second thing, the thing that really prompted me to write this blog, was a small entertainment news blurb. Jennifer Love Hewitt, after all her campaigning for natural body love after the critical reception of pictures of her looking nicely curvy in a bikini, lost eighteen pounds.

I'm 4'10' tall. I weigh 120 pounds. I'm a size five in jeans, a size three in skirts. I go running or biking an average of five times a week. I'm not gorgeous, but I'm attractive, so I'm told. I get compliments on my hair from complete strangers almost any time I wear it down.

I'm also an author. That's right, I write books. Full of words, arranged solely by yours truly. I can converse intelligently on almost any subject. I'm well-read, I keep up on current events. I'm funny. I'm loyal, and I like to think I'm a good friend. I'm a good wife to my husband, and a great doggy- and kitty- mommy.

So why is it that, every time I stand in front of a mirror, I don't see any of those things? I don't see an accomplished woman with great hair and a nice, perky booty looking back at me. I see a short, chubby chick with a stomach that, despite her best efforts, is always thicker than she wants it to be. My thighs are huge, and no pair of shorts in the world can flatter them. My hips jiggle. My nose is too big and too shiny.

The thing is, the body hatred doesn't just stop at mine. I am truly, truly ashamed of this, but do you want to know what I thought when Jennifer Love Hewitt, defending her bikini pics, said, "Size two isn't fat,"? I thought, "If she's a size two, I'm the queen of England." Nice, huh? Not, "Well, good for her." Nope. I jumped right on the haters' bandwagon.

When it comes to our bodies, it seems like women are always ready to think the worst. Rather than think about all the wonderful places my muscular legs have been strong enough to take me, I mentally abuse them every time I see them. I constantly compare myself to every other woman I see on the street. I don't focus on intelligence or humor or common sense, I focus on whether her waist is bigger than mine.

I hate it, but I don't know how to stop it. And no one else seems to, either. JK Rowling wrote a passionate blog about women's body image on her website last year, about how it shouldn't matter how big or small you are, but what you say and do. Last month, I saw a video blog of her commencement address to Harvard, in which she expressed gratitude toward the jitters she felt coming up to the speech, since it enabled her to lose weight.

I'd be interested in hearing everyone's views on this, so please leave a comment or message if you've got an opinion.

Book Review: Breaking Dawn, by Stephenie Meyer (Spoiler Alert!)

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 20:10:00 +0000

Breaking Dawn Review

I know it’s been a week since I promised my review of Breaking Dawn, but I like to read books like this twice before I submit my final responses. Actually, I read it two-and-a-half times. Yes, I know, I’m sick in the head.
As an avid fan of the series, I was not disappointed by Meyer’s fourth and final installation in the Twilight series. I was surprised by a number of the plot twists, but certainly not disappointed.
Some people seemed to feel this book was out of character with the rest of the series; I disagree. The primary themes that weave themselves through the books are still strong in Breaking Dawn; just represented differently. As usual, Bella finds herself torn in two different directions, fighting for the ones she loves, and preparing herself for the possibility of those loved ones slipping away from her. The only difference is that now, her decisions yield a crop of new and powerful weapons for her to draw upon. For once, Bella finds herself the hero, rather than the victim, of the tale. And, of course, woven over, under and through each thread of the story, is Bella and Edward’s timeless love for each other.
My favorite parts: (spoiler alert!)
The wedding: Meyer captured the emotion of this so well, I found myself reminiscing about my own wedding, thinking, “My God, she’s got it! That’s exactly what it feels like!” Except, of course, I didn’t marry a vampire.
The change: Bella’s transition to vampire life made me want to crow with triumph. Finally! All she’s ever wanted, even things which had nothing to do with Edward, delivered in one glorious sparkling package. Again, the emotion of this section was beautifully, beautifully captured.
My not-so-favorite parts:
Jacob’s narration: This is purely personal. I know it was a necessary evil, and telling this portion from his point of view gave the perspective of the story a better dimensional quality. But he irritates the liver out of me. Can’t help it; you’ll never see me wearing any “Team Jacob” tees.
The final conflict: A little too up and down. It’s not okay, oh, wait, it’s okay, no, wait, it’s not okay again, oh, hey, changed our minds, whoops, decided you’re going to die, oh, look, it’s Alice!—I felt trapped in some kind of ADD literary nightmare. The whole time, I was thinking, OMG, go away already! But, when they finally did, it was all worth it.

Even taking into consideration my few gripes, this book is one of my new favorites, and sits in pride of place on my bookshelf, next to its amazing sisters.

breaking dawn, part 1 (spoilers)

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 15:59:00 +0000

******SPOILER ALERT! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE BOOK!*****

I spent last night reading the final book in Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. I’ve fallen absolutely head-over-heels for these books, and have been eagerly awaiting the final installation for months. And I wasn’t disappointed. Not even a little bit.
So, imagine my surprise when I checked out Breaking Dawn’s Amazon page this morning, to see what other people thought. My first surprise was the average rating…only three stars. What? Then I delved a little deeper, and I was absolutely astonished to see that four out of five people completely trashed the book. Huh?
As I read through the reviews, I started to get angry. People are entitled to their own opinions, and if you didn’t like it, that’s fine. What annoyed me were the REASONS they didn’t like it. Again, you’re entitled to your opinion. But I’m entitled to mine, and so, I’m going to go on a little rant.
The first reason people stated for hating the book is that it’s “bizarre.” Okay, hi. It’s a love story between a vampire and a human. Aside from being bizarre in itself, most events resulting from such a pairing are also going to be bizarre. It’s a work of fiction. If they’re confused, they should look up the definition of ‘fiction.’ Maybe that will help clarify things.
The second reason, the main one I’m annoyed about, is that it had a happy ending. Like, a really happy ending. Apparently, some readers feel that Bella should have sacrificed more. Spending the past year and a half falling in love with a dangerous vampire, being chased, threatened, and attacked by other vampires, falling in love with a werewolf, and having to choose between him and a vampire, and making the decision to turn her back on the human world, including her beloved parents, isn’t enough. Nor is bearing a half-human, half-vampire child which nearly killed her in the process. What, they were rooting for her spine not to knit, so she could become the world’s first paraplegic vampire? Please. Poor Bella has gone through enough in her short life…how can you begrudge her a happy ending? And it’s not entirely happy, either…Bella states quite clearly that she won’t be able to see her mother again. That smells like sacrifice to me.
I will be writing an actual review in the near future, but I wanted to take the time to defend one of my favorite authors, and one of my favorite characters, from the massive hate-wave washing over them. As a writer, I can only imagine how painful it must be for Stephenie Meyer; to have worked so hard, for so many years, and to finally come to the long awaited conclusion of an immensely popular and acclaimed cycle of books, only to have this kind of reaction. For me, Meyer stepped up to the plate and hit a home run.
Can’t wait for the next one, Stephenie.

two words...SOLD OUT!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sun, 29 Jun 2008 23:48:00 +0000

I had an amusing conversation with my husband on Saturday afternoon around 2:30:

Jackie: Hi!
Martin: Hi! How's the signing going? (note: My signing at the Lancaster Borders was scheduled from 1-3 pm)
J: Oh, well, I'm leaving now.
M: What!? Why?
J: Well, I sold out.
M: (several moments of silence) Really?
J: Yes, really!
M: That's @#*$@#& great!
J: Yeah, I'm pretty stoked myself. Oh, and this guy asked me out for tonight. That's okay with you, right?
M: (stonily) I do own guns, you know.

Obviously, Lancaster was a hit. I sold every copy of my book the store had ordered in an hour and a half. Met some very interesting people, some more "interesting" than others, proved that I still got it goin' on in more ways than one, and just generally had a great time with Danny and Michael, my official entourage for the weekend.

I love Lancaster!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 23:40:00 +0000

Hey everyone,
YA Enchanting Reviews just posted both an interview and a review of Surviving Serendipity at www.myspace.com/enchantingya.

Take a peek, and check out some of the other fantastic reviews and interviews, while you're at it!

Book Review: "Specials," by Scott Westerfield

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 21:18:00 +0000

In the third installment of the “Uglies” series, Tally Youngblood has changed yet again. She’s a Special, the elite police force of the city, imbued with super strength and speed, unbreakable and unbeatable. Perfect.
Yet Tally can’t forget Zane, her boyfriend from her pre-special days, tragically damaged in his attempt to reverse the mind-dulling effects of becoming “Pretty”—damage Tally still blames herself for.
Now Tally is once again torn between allegiance to her best friend and fellow Special Shay, and feelings of love and responsibility for Zane.
This was probably my favorite (so far, anyway, since I haven’t yet read “Extras”) of the “Uglies” series. In the previous two books, I had a lot of trouble “bonding” with Tally and relating to the decisions she made. But the emotional climate in this book seemed much more plausible, and Westerfield’s dialogue shines. My only complaint is that the action scenes were a little too complex—you almost needed to sketch a diagram to keep up.

feeling blue?

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 21:41:00 +0000

When I wrote Surviving Serendipity, I imagined a very special group of people for its pages: the Valforte. It is not only their character and personality attributes that make them special; so does their unique blue skin color.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that blue people actually existed outside my imagination. Here are just a few examples of what I’ve learned:

--In 1944, eleven homeless men were found on the streets of New York City, grievously ill, and bright blue. Their strange illness and coloring were later attributed to sodium nitrite (nitrite, not nitrate) poisoning from a local flophouse kitchen. (http://lilt.ilstu.edu/pefranc/ROUECHE.00.html, “Eleven Blue Men,” by Berton Roueche)

--The Fugates of Troublesome Creek, Kentucky, nicknamed the blue Fugates, were naturally blue, the product of inbreeding which brought a recessive gene, called met-H, to the surface. The gene reduced the oxygen-carrying capacity of arterial blood (the blood your heart pumps to your limbs), giving the blood itself a chocolate color, and giving the skin of Caucasians a bluish cast. One of the Fugate women was said to have “lips the color of a bruise.” (http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a980724.html, “A Straight Dope Classic from Cecil’s Storehouse of Human Knowledge,” by Cecil Adams)

--Paul Karason, of Madera, California, began turning blue a decade ago when he began ingesting and treating his skin with a mixture of colloidal silver, which caused a condition called argyria, a permanent but harmless condition in which a bluish or grayish cast appears on the skin. Now he looks like a blue Santa Claus. (http://bodyodd.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/01/22/598906.aspx, “The True Blue Story of Paul Karason,” by Linda Dahlstrom, and http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/toxprofiles/phs146.html, “Public Health Statement for Silver,” distributed by the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry.)

the windy city

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 21:18:00 +0000

the windy city
Since I'm off to Chicago in the morning, I decided to look up some fun Chicago facts to share with all of you:

--The name "Chicago" was taken from the Native American word "Shikaakwa" which means "wild leek." Leek--isn't that an onion?

--Chicago is the home of the world's largest library, Harold Washington library center, which holds over two MILLION books.

--Chicago is home to the second largest Polish population in the world, the first being Warsaw.

--The Chicago river is the only river in the world that flows backwards.

--The city is also home to one of the last free zoos in the world, the Lincoln Park Zoo (and you can bet I'll be there if I can!)

Book Review: "The Host," by Stephenie Meyer

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 23:02:00 +0000

Having nothing better to blog about, I've decided to do amateur book reviews. So, without further ado:

Wow. And I thought I was imaginative. "The Host" has to be the strangest book I've read in quite some time, but also the best. Meyer weaves her tale in the midst of a terrifying backdrop, where the human race has been taken over by an alien species, "Souls," which, once implanted in to the cervical spine of their "host," take control of that person's brain, memory, and body. The invasion took place over a period of years, the implanted aliens using the stolen memories of their host's life and personality to assimilate themselves into our society until, at last, our society no longer existed.
Well, almost. A few humans were canny enough to put two and two together and retreated into the wilderness to avoid falling victim to the high-tech bodysnatchers. One such survivor is twenty-year-old Melanie, who, along with her younger brother Jamie and boyfriend Jared, has been ekeing out a fairly good existence, staying on the fringes of populated areas and out of the hands of the "Seekers," the alien equivalent of police.
All that changes when Melanie's attempt to contact a cousin she believes may still be human leads her into the hands of the Seekers. Now, Melanie becomes the host for Wanderer, a well-travelled soul who has inhabited many other lower life-forms on other planets, and looks forward to the complexities of life in this body. But Melanie refuses to cede her mind and body so easily, and an intense battle for control between Wanderer and Melanie continues for over a year.
Finally, overcome with Melanie's emotions and memories, Wanderer heads into the desert, where Melanie believes Jared and Jamie may be hiding. After nearly dying in the desert, Wanderer and Melanie are found and rescued by a group of rebels--including Jamie and Melanie's beloved Jared. Jared, however, is unable to hide his loathing for the creature who inhabits and controls his lover's body, and Wanderer, who has been deeply affected by Mel's intense love for him, feels rejected.
Gradually, though, Wanderer, now affectionately nicknamed Wanda, is accepted into the fold, and develops feelings of her own for another human rebel, Ian.
As the love quadrangle between two men, one woman, and one alien (shared out between only three bodies) intensifies, and the rebels' tenuous hold on survival weakens, Wanda is faced with a devastating choice; allow her new, beloved human family to fall victim to their greatest fear, or betray her own people by revealing the secret that could save humankind.
I cannot even begin to express how awed and impressed I was by "The Host." Meyer's talent for "humanizing" monsters, as previously demonstrated in her immensely popular "Twilight" series, is so adroit that readers may find themselves wondering whether humans wouldn't be better off in the hands of these peaceful yet egotistical interlopers. And her ability to create inner conflict and suspense is nearly matchless; I had to leave my half-finished book in my car overnight so I wouldn't be tempted to stay up all night reading. I anxiously await "Breaking Dawn," and any other novels this talented author cares to share with us.

And they said it couldn't be done!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Sun, 25 May 2008 22:07:00 +0000

I've had this idea in my head for quite some time now. My dog, Sirius, as you may know from previous blogs, is quite energetic. I walk him every day, as does my husband, but since the dog's legs are almost as long as mine are, it's not a terrible lot of exercise for him. And I've tried running many, many times, but running is just not one of my talents. I have no natural stride, and my running speed is about the same as my walking.

My idea was to get a bicycle, and teach my dog to run along side it with me. That way, I could attain a speed that would actually tire him out and still get my own exercise. But everyone I talked to who knows my dog said it couldn't be done. My husband actually laughed at me. "It'll never happen," he said. "No way will you get that dog to run alongside the bike. In front of it, and then probably under it, but never alongside."

For the record, (and Martin knows this, but hasn't quite learned his lesson yet, apparently) you should never, ever tell me that something can't be done. I take it as a dare.

So, on my way home from my parents' house today, I stopped at a yard sale and got this dinky, piece of crap bike with no rear brakes and a nearly bald seat for ten bucks. Then I took Sirius down to the big parking lot behind the firehouse...and the games began.

First, Sirius decided that the point of this game, as he understood it, was to grab the leash in his mouth and run at Mach Chicken across the parking lot, pulling his screaming/laughing mother and bicycle along behind him. Great exercise for the dog (especially since I'd say we were traveling about twenty miles an hour, and I wasn't pedaling!), but not exactly safe. Gave it a few more tries (and nearly ran the dog over in the process), though, and my big, beautiful dog was trotting along nice as you please right next to my knee. Fortified with pride and confidence, we turned out of the parking lot and onto the street. We rode through kids, past dogs, people, mourning doves and squirrels, and he didn't pull me off the bike once.

I'm so proud of my baby!

Well, excuuse me!

noreply@blogger.com (Jacquelyn Sylvan) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 22:14:00 +0000

Since having a fun and successful time at the Books, Brushes and Blooms festival this past Saturday, I’ve been looking into doing some more. So, I sent out emails to contact people for various festivals within about a five-state radius, politely explaining the information I wanted, and letting the person know what I would be selling (i.e., copies of Surviving Serendipity). I wanted to share two responses that I received with you, from two very different ends of the spectrum:

(Note: I already had all the information I needed from this website; I just wanted to know whether I qualified as a retail vendor or an arts and crafts vendor)

“Jacquelyn - I would consider you an arts & crafts vendor. Obviously, your book is your art.
Laura”

Succinct, yet polite, I think you’ll agree. Now, on to the next one, which was a response to a general query for information:

“First, the show is sold out for 2008. Second, selling books is not a craft. This is strickly a craft show with crafts made by the vendors themselves.”

Okaaay…first, despite email being accepted as a fairly informal method of communication, I do believe, especially when communications are occurring between strangers, that it is customary to include a greeting and closing, even if it is as simple as the addressee’s and author’s name.
Second…yeah, you’re right. Selling books is not a craft. Writing them, however, is. Please understand that I am NOT putting down people who do create and sell crafts; crafting is a hobby, and sometimes for some people a business, which requires dedication, hard work, and extraordinary talent. However, I defy any glassblower, woodcarver, seedbeader or jewelrymaker to show me a piece of their work which took over SIX MONTHS of daily, dedicated work to create, three more months to polish, eight months to find a market for, and six further months of polishing. One product, one craft, one single, solitary piece of work.
Now, I would be completely accepting of an email that said: Dear Jacquelyn, Thank you for your interest in our festival. However, at this time, all of our slots for 2008 are full. In addition, we only accept applications from vendors selling “hand-crafted” items. Sincerely, Whoever.
That took me a total of thirty seconds to write. Wow, what a time cramp.
And third…”strictly” isn’t spelled with a ‘k’. If you’re going to insult me, at least use spell-check.