Birthdays

Yesterday was my 34th birthday. Not too much happened since I'm getting over a pretty serious case of Strep. I didn't really want too much to happen, either, since I don't generally like surprises and I'm suspicious of gifts--too many times of pretending to like things I didn't. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I'd rather people saved their money than buy me something ridiculous that I don't want, something I'll end up sticking in the closet somewhere just in case they ask if I still have it.

My wife usually knows what to get me--books and movies. She used to try to get me clothes, but she ignores the size I actually am and gets the size she thinks I am. It's sweet that she thinks I'm smaller around the middle than I am, but it makes for some awkward moments. This year she came through again with some books, Donnie Brasco, Far and Away, and the first season of Night Court, which used to be one of my number one shows back in the day. She reminded me how much I respected Harry (the judge) and it all came back to me. He was one of a few characters on TV that I've identified with.

Dad gave me money, Mom gave me a stuffed duck (it's cute...I saw it somewhere and had told her it was), and my brother gave me a phone call, which he said was entirely inspired by his dog.

Overall, due to illness, a bit disappointing, but I don't feel disappointed. I feel slightly phlegmy and congested. And how different is 34 from 33 anyway? Half the time when someone asks my age, I can't remember which number comes after the first 3.

Baby

My wife is crazy about babies off and on over the past four years or so. I have my moments as well, but I usually come back to the fact that I like my peace and quiet and my sleep and my money, little though it is. I do think that I want a kid and if it doesn't happen soon, it won't happen. I just dread the stuff I know comes with it.

She does too. We talk about it from time to time. But them we always come back to the fact that neither of us can imagine growing old without ever having at least one child.

My cousin Scott's wife is pregnant with their second child. It's a girl they will call Kelly and she's due in April. They've had some rough times trying to get this second child, so I'm happy for them. But still jealous.

My wife and I went to Babys'R'Us and bought a few things for Kelly. Amy said the only things they really don't have for Kelly are some girly outfits. So even though it goes against my wife's tomboy upbringing and my dislike of pink, we picked out three adorable girly outfits (two of them pink) to give to Amy the next time we see her.

Each time I see them hanging on the doorknob downstairs, I think about having our own child. It makes me scared, it makes me excited, it makes me too many things to describe. Mostly at this point impatient and worried. I worry about the impact a child will have on my lifestyle, which is very tame. But I do enjoy traveling and going to the movies...both of which will probably have to be on hold for a while...

Sports YA Lit

Last summer I got to meet an author of YA fiction Rich Wallace, who writes books for athletic boys. I liked his books because they were honest and relatively short, two things I thought would be appealing to the kinds of boys who would read these books. I have recommended his books to some students and they've enjoyed them.

I got the feeling from Rich that he didn't feel like he books were very important, like they didn't have much of an audience. Whereas, I was impressed with them from the start since part of my Master's degree was about finding reading for reluctant readers and his books were perfect for this. So I look at his fiction as a very important part of HS literature. Rich, though, seems to look at his fiction as being in the shadow of other writers.

I still don't agree with him completely, but I am starting to see what he means. I've been reading books by Chris Crutcher lately and he does a similar thing with his stories that Rich does. But I think Rich does it in his own unique way and with a different outcome--more appropriate for reluctant readers. Crutcher's books have sports as the backbone and then show the main character learning a life lesson to aide him in his future. Wallace's books have sports as the backbone and show the main character figuring out how he's going to put his life together when sports can no longer be the backbone.

I just finished Crutcher's Crazy Horse Electric Game, and while I enjoyed it for the most part, there were some places I really had to suspend my disbelief. Some things came together too easily and some things came back into the story that I didn't believe would have. Overall, though, I think it was a success. I don't believe that the main character could be as severely paralyzed as he was and then come back from it completely unparalyzed by the end of the story. It's a nice theory, but I don't think it's very plausible.

The last book of Rich's that I read was Restless: A Ghost's Story. It was different from his other stories, dealing more with the psychological than the physical. It had Rich's usual laconic style, his honest, to-the-point writing, which I like. And I don't remember thinking at any point that I didn't believe what was going on, even though it was about a ghost.

I think my point is that I'm like Rich quite a bit. I feel like my own writing is really no big deal and that too many other writers are already doing what I want to do. But maybe (hopefully) I'm wrong just like he is. Maybe I'm unique enough that I'll find an audience, or at least have some fans that can see what I'm really trying to do.

I wrote a poem!

the shadow wails, exposing emotion
memories of translucent dreams
a spark of a curse trapped beneath the whispers
coldly, silently visible