Inside Jacket

"I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people
who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves."
–Anna Quindlen

A lot has been said of the iPad since Apple revealed it yesterday morning. Is it the Kindle killer? No one knows. That's not what I'm interested in, though. My passion isn't technology (my friends will overwhelmingly vouch for me on that statement). My passion is books. These days, though, with books comes technology, so I'm learning to adapt and, thus far, it's been ok. Bumpy, but ok.

We all have heard that books are just barely escaping death's call. For those in the book business, it's thrown in our faces daily. Yet we carry on, because we love what we do.

The thought of what will happen to books has of course crossed my mind many times, but it wasn't until after reading this Guardian blog post that I thought, "Huh. What will happen to bookshelves?" Books add a certain oomph to a room, but bookshelves? Well, that's an entirely different animal all together. How a person organizes, or disorganizes, their bookshelves says a lot about them. I, for example, meticulously organize my books by size. Mass markets on the top shelves, standard paperbacks on the next shelves down, oversized books on the bottom shelves. Above my bed I have my favorite books–paperbacks on the top shelf, hardcovers on the bottom shelf (I get to sleep with stories above my head). I am, admittedly, a bit of a neatnik, and how my books are organized reflects that (sometimes I walk over to my bookshelves and make sure all the books are perfectly aligned. Crazy? Most would say yes).

Now I know the iPad displays books on a "bookshelf", but what about shelves like Neil Gaiman's? Will bookshelves be seen as archaic? Relics of a quaint life? Or will we still use them as a voyeuristic way to determine if a person is datable or intelligent or shallow? Will we still use them to show off our own literary tastes? Or will books be seen as cds now are–things that are clumsy and take up space?

I base a lot on a person's bookshelves. And owning bookshelves is like saying "I'm here. From Don Quixote to The Bridges of Madison County, this is who I am. Take it or leave it." It's a way I define myself and I tend to surround myself with others who also define themselves by their books (and how they organize them). I have to say, if I walk into a house and don't see books, I'm gonna be very skeptical of that person.

–Lindsey

The seven-year-old and I are making Green Eggs and Ham for breakfast on Saturday. Here is the recipe we are following – it’s not exact because that’s how I operate in the kitchen. I don’t believe in exact quantities because I never have the exact quantities required.

A pile of fresh spinach
1 clove of crushed garlic (optional)
3 or 4 beaten eggs
Salt & pepper
A few slices of bacon

Wash the spinach (although it’s fine to just check there are no rogue slugs present), fry with a little oil, drain away most of the water after it has boiled down (and be amazed once more at how spinach just disappears like magic), add the garlic, salt and pepper and then puree it.

Scramble the eggs, then add the spinach puree and mix it up without mercy until the eggs are greener than green, green grass of home.

Cook the bacon and place the green eggs next to the bacon in an attractive pile on the plate. Place the plate in front of seven-year-old.

Of course, you could just use food colouring but have you seen what goes into food colouring?

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Josh Sundquist is one of our guest bloggers during the week of January 18th. If you have any questions for Josh Sundquist, add a comment to any of his posts. Here is some more information about Just Don't Fall:

A remarkable odyssey that John le Carre calls "inspiring, courageous, sometimes heartbreaking"

Josh Sundquist was an energetic and inquisitive nine-year-old when he was diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma, a virulent cancer that eventually claimed his left leg. His extraordinary journey takes him from his small southern town-with his father, an aspiring pastor questioning his faith, and his mother, a rigidly conservative homeschool teacher- through a dizzying array of hospitals, on to high school, and then to the mountains, where Josh learns to ski.

On the slopes, Josh's world bursts wide open and he finds within him the drive to become a champion skier, despite his disability. While he navigates the dramas of high school and an unstable home life, Josh keeps his eyes on the prize-the 2006 Paralympics in Turin, Italy.

Just Don't Fall isn't just the story of a boy becoming a man, but of a champion realizing his greatest aspiration.

Just Don't Fall

Josh Sundquist – author

$25.95 – add to cart

Book: Hardcover | 5.51 x 8.26in | 336 pages | ISBN 9780670021468 | 21 Jan 2010 | Viking Adult | 18 – AND UP

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The world of Deadtown is haunted by demons. They come out at night: shrieking, howling, and tormenting the vulnerable. Vicky Vaughn, Boston's only professional demon slayer, is there to send your demons back into the ether–if you can afford her fee.

In Deadtown there are two kinds of demons: those that are conjured and those that have independent existence. Personal demons, the ones Vicky kills for her clients, are conjured demons. They don't exist until someone summons them and gives them form. The summoning can happen deliberately–as when a sorcerer conjures Harpies (revenge demons) and sends them to attack an enemy-or it can happen unconsciously. Without intending to, people can conjure their own demons.

How does that work? When you don't face a fear, worry, or regret, the issue tends to grow. It visits you as you lie in bed at night, creeping into your thoughts and maybe–if you manage to sleep–invading your dreams. The bigger the problem grows, the more demons it conjures. Personal demons gobble up fear, guilt, and other negative emotions like candy.

But Vicky's the demon expert, so I'll let her explain. In this snippet from Deadtown, Vicky is being questioned by two homicide detectives, Stephanie Hagopian and Daniel Costello. One of Vicky's clients is dead, and they want to know whether he could have been murdered by demons:

Hagopian jumped. Then she nodded and opened a notebook. She cleared her throat twice. "The death was . . . well, it wasn't normal," she said. "We know from documents found at the scene that you were there last night in your, ah, professional capacity. We'd like your opinion on whether Funderburk died as the result of a demon attack."

I shook my head. "I exterminated the whole pod. Besides, demons don't kill. They torment. That's how they feed. If the victim dies, the party's over."

"What do you mean?"

"Demons are conjured entities. They don't exist until someone invokes them. That someone can be a sorcerer out to hurt someone-that's where Harpies come from-or it can be the victim himself." Hagopian flinched, and I added, "Or herself."

"People conjure demons against themselves?" She raised a plucked-half-to-death eyebrow.

"Not on purpose. But strong feelings of guilt or shame or fear can bring demons swarming to a victim like honeybees to a rose garden. Eidolons are personal demons that feed on guilt. Drudes feed on fear. They're pretty similar, except Eidolons attack while you're lying awake at night and Drudes invade your dreams."

Hagopian shuddered, and I got the feeling she'd had a personal encounter with a demon or two. Too bad that now wasn't the time to make my sales pitch. Not that she'd be buying, seeing as how my last client turned up dead. I remembered his happy, off-key humming after the extermination. Poor old George.

"Harpies," I continued, "are revenge demons. Eidolons and Drudes can take many forms, but Harpies always look the same: They've got vulture bodies and Medusa heads, with snakes for hair and a beak for a mouth. They smell like garbage that's baked in the sun for a week. Their screeching"-I tried to find a way to describe the brain-shredding noise Harpies made, but there were no words for it-"well, their screeching alone can drive a person insane."

Both detectives were watching me openmouthed, like kids listening to a scary campfire story they didn't want to hear. Too bad. They'd dragged me here; they deserved all the juicy details. "Harpies attack from the outside. You're lying in bed, and suddenly you can't move. These hideous things-worse than any nightmare-fly through the wall and land on you, tearing into you with their talons. Then they begin to feed. It feels like they're ripping out your vital organs. The agony lasts all night. The next morning, there's no physical damage. But you can count on them returning night after night after night."

"What about the other kinds, the"-Hagopian consulted her notebook-"the Eidolons and the Drudes?" Her voice had diminished to a croak. Costello shot her a questioning look, but her eyes were fixed on me.

"Eidolons attack from the inside," I answered, "like you've got some huge, venomous parasite gnawing on your bones. Guilt brought to life. Some victims can see their Eidolons; others just feel unbearable agony. Drudes are unpredictable, like dreams, and they're the source of most nightmares. If you're plagued by horrible dreams, swarming with everything you fear, you've got a Drude infestation." I glanced at Detective Hagopian, who'd closed her eyes and was breathing shallowly through her mouth. Yep. Drude victim for sure. I turned back to Costello. "Demon attacks are terrifying and painful. Hell on earth. But they're not fatal. When a victim dies, that person's demons cease to exist. That's why demons don't kill."

But some demons do kill, as Vicky knows all too well. Those are the second kind of demons, the ones that exist independently. The worst of these are Hellions, demons that feed not from personal emotions but from widespread suffering and destruction. The plague that created Boston's zombies attracted a legion of Hellions to the city, and a magical shield was erected to keep them out. But somehow the shield has been breached and a Hellion now threatens the city. And not just any Hellion–this is Difethwr, the Destroyer, and Vicky has a personal history with the thing.

To see Vicky in action as she rids a client of nightmare-causing Drudes, read Chapter 1 of Deadtown.

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Robin Ryan is our guest bloggers during the week of January 18th. If you have any questions for Robin Ryan, add a comment to any of her posts. Here is some more information about Over 40 & You're Hired!:

A vital new job search approach customized for people over forty- from the author of 60 Seconds & You're Hired!

With unemployment hitting all time highs, the over- forty crowd is struggling to land new jobs. America's top career counselor offers her market-tested program that shows readers how to effectively stand out and appeal to employers amid age discrimi­nation and floods of competition.

In Over 40 & You're Hired!, Robin Ryan will inspire readers to jump-start their careers and secure new, better-paying jobs. She encourages them to tap into the "hidden job market" (where 80 percent of all jobs are found), explains how to create targeted resumes and master the interview, and outlines how to overcome any age-related stereotypes they may encounter in their job hunt. Ryan has created a guide of valuable advice and detailed explanations culled from over twenty years of experience as a career counselor that people over forty will find indispensible as they look for work.

About Robin Ryan:

Robin Ryan is one of the most visible figures in the employment field, a tireless lecturer and teacher whose career column appears in over 100 Gannett newspapers and their Web sites. She has been a guest on over 1,000 TV and radio programs including Oprah, Dr. Phil, CNN, and NBC Nightly News.  

Over 40 & You're Hired! Secrets to Landing a Great Job
Robin Ryan – Author

$15.00 – Add to Cart

Book: Paperback | 8.26 x 5.23in | 256 pages | ISBN 9780143116981 | 29 Dec 2009 | Penguin | 18 – AND UP