Category: Josie’s Books

  • Not all heroes wear capes

    Not all heroes wear capes

    I was at the mall recently and was dismayed to see that capes are in again this fall/winter. (Perhaps they were ponchos, but for the sake of my point, I’m calling them capes.) Maybe ponchos/capes have never been out, because I seem to remember having this reaction every year. Whatever the case, they were on display everywhere, and I assume people were buying them.

    Not this kind of gaucho…
    …this kind

    I kind of feel like capes are the gauchos of outerwear (gauchos, as in the half-pants, half-skirt fashion concoction that designers occasionally try to foist on unsuspecting female consumers, not gauchos as in the people…obviously).

    No offense, but I firmly believe that there is no good reason to ever wear a pair gauchos, unless you’ve taken a time machine back to the 1970s. (Excuse me, Three’s Company is calling…Janet and Chrissy want their gauchos back.)

    Back in first grade, when used to spend recess twirling on the twirling bars, gaucho-like clothes made sense. If we happend to wear a dress to school and forgot to wear shorts under our dress, our underwear would show as we twirled. This very inconvenient problem could easily have been solved with a pair of gauchos, or culotes, or a skort. When we were little kids, clothes that could pull double-duty were useful and felt cool.

    In my opinion, a cape is another such (vain) attempt to be two things at once. It seems to be trying, for some odd reason, to be a blanket and a coat at the same time. Remember the Snuggie, the blanket with sleeves? Good idea, bad idea? You be the judge.

    I remember that capes were the rage one season when I was a kid. Then they came back years ago when I was an adult and, in a mad moment of nostalgia, I bought two of them. The first one was a black knitted cape. I didn’t like it, so I wore it once and gave it away. Then, noticing that capes were still in (or so said all of the morning talk shows) I folded and bought a second cape. I wore it more than once, but I always felt deep down inside, that I looked like someone people might be tempted to call “The Blanket Lady.”

    That’s when I realized that the only time wearing a cape would make sense for me would be if I were a superhero, specifically Superman or Batman, because they wear capes and they don’t look ridiculous. Their capes have meaning (they signal to the world that they are on a mission), a purpose (they somehow help them stay airborne), and trail dramatically behind them as they sore through the sky in a heroic attempt to save humanity (in other words, they look cool). This is fine and good for the likes of Superman and Batman, but a whole slew of superheroes manage to accomplish the same thing sans cape: nurses, teachers, first responders, people who rescue animals in distress, and many of the Avengers.

    Cape or No Cape? That is the question.

    In the illustrations below, notice a few salient points.

    1. He is not Superman or Batman.
    2. He is wearing a cape.
    3. He looks silly.
    4. She is not Superman or Batman.
    5. She is not wearing a cape.
    6. She does not look silly.

    In my book, Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, Maxwell gets schooled by her new friend, Drew, on why her fashion choice may not be the best idea.

    “Okay,” Drew was saying as they stood at the entrance to one of the department stores, “I’m desperately trying to understand the concept. So, they’re not shorts, it’s not a skirt. It’s a skort?”
    “Yes. It’s like a wraparound skirt teamed up with a pair of shorts,” Maxwell tried to explain. They were going through a checklist of clothing items that Maxwell had drawn up, line by line.
    “And why is that a good idea?”
    “Well, I don’t like pants. At all. So I mostly wear shorts. But sometimes shorts just aren’t enough. Sometimes they’re too casual,” Maxwell tried to explain. “I figure a skort is a happy medium.”
    “Between what?”
    “Casual and not-so-casual.”
    “They’re sort of like those plastic eating utensils they give you at fast food joints that are not quite spoons, not quite forks. I never could understand how those were useful, and I’m still not convinced a skort is a great wardrobe choice. Do you have a lot of these…skorts?”
    “In addition to this,” Maxwell said, tugging at the denim skort she was wearing, “I have two more. Lately, they’re all I’ve been wearing.”
    “And you’d like to buy some more?”
    “Well, yes. But I haven’t seen any in any of the stores we’ve been to so far.”
    “Hum,” Drew said. “You know, there may be a reason for that…”

    So now I’m curious…what are your feelings about hybrid clothing like gauchos, capes, and/or ponchos?

  • Literary Allusions…Not Illusions

    I have blogged quite a bit about Pride and Prejudice for the simple reason that I happen to love Pride and Prejudice. I love the characters. I love the story. I love the writing.

    However, lest I give the impression that my obsession with appreciation of Jane Austen’s writings begins and ends with Pride and Prejudice, I would like to take this opportunity to say a few things about Northanger Abbey.

    For the longest time, I regarded Northanger Abbey as a throwaway Jane Austen novel, the one you could skip reading and simply watch the movie, if that. Perhaps this was because I saw the 1987 BBC movie first and found it dull, dreary, and dismal, giving one the impression that one was watching it on television set that was in the process of dying a slow, painful death, whether or not this was the case.

    I couldn’t get into the story. I couldn’t get behind any of the characters. I thought the whole idea was implausible and I simply didn’t care about any of it. At all.

    However, when Masterpiece Theater was rebranded as Masterpiece all of those years ago and all of the hopelessly dated 1970s and 1980s versions of Jane Austen movies (except for Pride and Prejudice) were revamped, I watched them all and, for the first time, Northanger Abbey piqued my interest. Prompting another, this time successful, attempt to read the novel.

    The curious thing, however, is how much it reminded me of my middle-grade novel, Maxwell Parker, P.I.,1 in that:

    1. The heroines are both avid readers
    2. Both heroines have overly active imaginations
    3. Both heroines have an unnatural interest in guts, gore and gruesomeness
    4. Both heroines suspect someone of an atrocity and then take steps to investigate

    My novel Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, the sequel to Maxwell Parker, P.I., seems to be loosely based on Emma, another Jane Austen novel I came to late in my Jane Austen reading experience. Ironically enough, I started to/attempted to read Emma when I was about ten or eleven years old. I picked it up off the shelf at the library and opened up to the first chapter and read the first line: “Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.”

    Miss Austen, I regret to inform you that this first line did not speak to ten-year-old me. Bratty, over-privileged Emma Woodhouse did not seem like a kindred spirit and I had no desire to spend any time with her, so on the library shelf she remained, and I did not become an Austen fan until I was sixteen-years-old and met kindred spirit, Elizabeth Bennet, whose opening line I much preferred. No matter. I like the book now, although, like my heroine, Maxwell, I still find Emma to be “so annoying.”2

    Just for the record, neither of my two Maxwell Parker books were intended to be reimagined Jane Austen books. Any resemblance is entirely a happy coincidence. However, I am in the process of writing a third Maxwell Parker book, and which, if any, Jane Austen book will end up inspiring it is anybody’s guess right now. As they used to say, back in the days before streaming and on-demand programming, stay tuned.

    1. Maxwell Parker, P.I. was published in 2014, but it was written long before I watched the 2007 version of Northanger Abbey. ↩︎
    2. Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, p. 262 ↩︎

     

  • Pigeonholed

    My Pandemic Project

    I have a question for you. How did you spend your time during the pandemic?

    If you’re like me, I’m sure you had lots of big plans that didn’t exactly come to fruition. I won’t take you down my list of failed endeavors (…the hiking that didn’t happen, the sourdough bread that didn’t rise…) but I did manage to do a whole lot of binge-watching (does watching Endeavour count as a successful endeavor?) and a lot of bird-watching.

    If you’re picturing me crouching in a park with a pair of binoculars, a field guide, and khakis, let me stop you right there. I did some of my best bird-watching from the driver’s seat of my car. Since so many people (at least at the start of the pandemic) were working from home, traffic on my usually insane commute was practically nonexistent, so I had a lot more time to reflect on different things as I drove to work. The things that tended to catch my eye more than anything else were the city’s pigeons.

    More than just catch my eye, though, they really captured my imagination. I thought back to a friend of mine who had moved to California from New York and used to contemptuously call them “rats with wings.” I always thought that was unfair and a little harsh. The more I watched them and thought about them, the more an idea began to reveal itself to me. Was it a Great Idea? You’ll have to ask Walter Pigeon. What I know for sure is that it became a book.

    Here’s how I describe it: Walter Pigeon is concerned about the bad rap he and his fellow pigeons have received and is determined to do something about it. A humorous and heartfelt satire about thinking outside the box.

    Here’s what other people are saying about it…

    “Clever and humorously imaginative, with embedded words of wisdom.”—Kirkus Reviews

    You can read the full review here.

    And if you care to check it out, it’s available on Amazon.

    As always, thanks for stopping by. I really do appreciate it.

  • Use (or Choose) Your Words (Wisely)

    Use (or Choose) Your Words (Wisely)

    “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.”

    I’ll admit it. I am (on occasion) a public eavesdropper, but only because people say the most interesting things in public. For instance, I was in the parking lot of an organic market not too long ago and a family (consisting of a mother, a father, and a pre-teen son) was getting in the car next to mine. The son was not in a happy mood.

    “Why are you mad with Daddy?” the mother asked, and then instructed him, “Use your words.”

    The son proceeded to not use words, his or otherwise, but to sulk as he climbed into the backseat of the crossover with folded arms.

    I laughed inwardly, mainly because I was surprised to hear that people really used words like “use your words.”

    Another time, I was innocently eating breakfast at a hotel near a popular amusement park, when a family of four was seated at the table next to mine. The two young boys were having a dispute, and to settle it, the father parroted the adage about sticks and stones breaking bones, but words never hurting you, to which the older son replied, “But they do hurt. They always hurt.”

    Again I chuckled, this time because the little dude was merely confirming the belief I’ve always held: words can be dangerous things.

    People can make cutting remarks that go on to have long and productive lives, remarks that go so far as to find a home inside your brain, and turn up again and again like that proverbial bad penny. If someone struck you, they might leave a sore spot or a bruise, but those things heal, those things fade with time. You might at some later date wish to revisit your injury, only to discover it has completely disappeared.

    But words are different; words cut deep.

    That’s why it’s a good idea to be like Horton and only say what you mean and mean what you say. Because once the words are out, you won’t be able take them back. You can’t. You can say you’re sorry. You can say you didn’t mean it. But if those are just lame, ineffectual words compared to the mean, harmful, pointed words you’re trying to take back.

    Those words that can’t be “un-heard.”

    It reminds me of the fable about gossip, often used to illustrate how once words are spoken, they become feathers in the wind; difficult to control, impossible to collect once unleashed.

    Like that vintage shampoo commercial (and they told two friends, and so on, and so on) suggests, words have a way of getting out at an exponential rate, which is good for advertising your new restaurant, but not so good if we’re talking about your embarrassing, dirty laundry.

    Funnily enough, I have written a book that addresses this very topic. Imagine that! It’s called I’m the Greatest Star, and tells the story of a sixth-grader named Star who, among other things, finds herself face-to-face with the verbally-abusive class bully.I'm the Greatest Star 3D cover 2022

    I’m the Greatest Star is published by Stepping Stones for Kids, an Imprint of FootePrint Press and will be available for purchase next month, April 2018, as a paperback or eBook. Visit my website josielynnbooks.com for more details.

  • My Big Publishing News

    Maxwell Parker, P.I. 3D cover 2022

    It’s official. My new book, Maxwell Parker, P.I. is available…as of right now!
    For more details about the story, to find out what inspired me to write it, or to watch the book trailer, please see this previous post:

    Maxwell Parker, P.I. is also available on Amazon.com.

    For the Kindle edition, click here.