Losing a Local Yarn Shop

Last month, my LYS closed its doors for good. I cannot put into words just how much this has affected me emotionally. That store was my home away from home - cliche, but true. I knew that no matter what, I could always drop by and find a welcome. The owners and the other regulars were my friends and I loved knowing that Lee, Liz, and Lindsay would always be in on a Friday night, and that Marianne worked on Saturday, and Teresa and Victoria would be there on Sunday.

The store was open for over six years, which is admittedly a good run for a yarn store.

But this does leave a giant hole in my life. There are other LYS in the area but none as convenient. I visited a few this past weekend, hoping to find the same welcoming atmosphere but failed.

The first I went to was (1) too far away to be a regular spot, and (2) made me extremely uncomfortable because of how the owner was behaving toward her daughter, who was helping out in the store.

The second was (1) not as far away as the first but still farther than I wanted to travel, (2) very small and (3) probably related to #2, full of mostly high-end yarn. I'm used to pricey yarn but I like stores to have a range of product. Instead, most of the shelf space was full of Madelinetosh, which is lovely and I own many skeins of it myself - but does set the tone a bit for the feel of the store.

While there is one more store I want to try, to the north of me by about 20 minutes, I am not very hopeful that I'll find a new LYS. There is two stores I particularly like - one in the city and one in Northern Virgnia - but are far too much effort to travel to regularly.

In the meantime, some of the regulars have opened their homes for regular get-togethers so I'm still seeing my friends and chatting over yarn. But... it's honestly just not the same.

Hooker Frustration

I'm a crocheter. I am not a knitter. Knitting makes me want to scream and throw things. I love yarn. I love making things out of yarn. But I'm getting really really tired of feeling like the afterthought red-headed stepchild of the fiber world. Hey, guess what? I have money to spend on yarn and patterns, just like knitters! I have skill and talent and can make things that are pretty, useful, and not just granny squares. So why do I always feel like a second-class citizen in yarn stores?

I know they don't mean it. And my LYS is so crochet-friendly I could live there forever. But despite all the hooks they carry, the carefulness to call it "Open Craft Night" instead of "Open Knit Night", the willingness of the owners to hold crochet classes.... I'm still the only consistent crocheter there. I'm surrounded by knitters. The regulars know me and admire my work. But newcomers will sometimes express disbelief in what I'm making, and how I'm making it.

I don't want to start a knit vs. crochet debate and if one is better than the other, but I have frustration and I need to vent it.

I'm a crocheter and I'm damn proud of it. If you can knit it, I can hook it. So why the hell is it so hard for me to feel accepted? Because, honestly, it's lonely being a crocheter in a sea of knitters. I've never run into the blatant craftism that other crocheters sometimes do -- thankfully, or I may have started screaming at the snobby knitter -- but I still sense that crochet is less accepted, less mainstream, less visible. When people think "crochet", they have visions of granny squares dancing through their head (not that I'm knocking the granny square; I've made gorgeous afghans out of them). So the fact that people are astounded that I'm making sweaters, socks, dresses, skirts, etc. makes me want to beat my head against a wall, sometimes.

I've been thinking of ways to make crochet more prominent in my area. Start a crochet-centric meetup? Get a group together and descend upon a LYS en masse? A Wear Crochet to Work Day? Camp out in front of the hyperbolic crochet coral reef and hold a hook-in? Wear a "Proud to be a Hooker" button?

Happy 2011!

Happy New Year, everybody! It has been an interesting, roller coaster year for me but it has ended well enough. I rediscovered my passion for crocheting; found two awesome roommates who share my love for yarn, books, and other dorky things; acquired another adorable rabbit; watched my goddaughter be born; and adopted a cat who in no time at all made his way into my heart.

Things I learned in 2010:

• No matter what toys you buy cats, they will always prefer empty water bottles, balls of paper, grains of rice, dust bunnies, and paper bags.
• Don't be afraid to frog. It's all part of the process.
• Cast iron cookware is better than non-stick. That stuff is AMAZING.
• While it is not possible to have too much yarn, it is possible to have too little money.
• Homeownership kind of sucks (this isn't a new lesson, but something that is reiterated to me every so often).
• Crying is okay. It's means you're alive.
• I should never have more than five projects going at a time, or five books. More is the way to madness.
• When designing socks, I should write down what I'm doing while I'm doing it so I remember for the second sock.
• I should update this more often.
• I truly have the best friends in the world.

Here's to a great 2011!

Keep Politics Out of My Fiction

Lately, I've been trying to read some books by some of the newer Baen authors and have found that I just cannot. I have known for a long time that Baen, as a company, leans heavily towards the right but I have (for the most part) not encountered that in their books. This may speak more of the books I prefer than the books they publish. I tend to read more fantasy than science fiction, and don't really care for military science fiction.

But since the founder Jim Baen's death, I've noticed a steady trend of political creep into their books, particularly with their new authors. Has it become a de facto requirement that in order to be published by Baen you have to shout your Republican credentials from page 1?

I read fiction for enjoyment, not to get preached to. I am heavily opinionated and work in the policy world, so I don't need to encounter it when I'm thinking I'm picking up a nice story about a time traveling family. (I nearly threw the book across the room when I got to the line in the prologue "Just thank God for Ronald Reagan." It also didn't help that the writing style was crap.)

While I'm a liberal, I don't want to see politics of either stripe in my books unexpectedly. If I want to read something political, I'll read something political. But don't preach to me or shoehorn in political ideology into a fiction story. I've stopped reading authors I used to love because of their constant soapboxing. I can't read Mercedes Lackey anymore because I felt her books were beating me over the head with the message of how unfit, controlling, or even misunderstanding parents did not deserve their children. I don't necessarily disagree with that but I don't want to read it over and over and over again.

Using fiction books as partisan political platforms ultimately drives away readers. If overdone, it annoys those who share those same views, and angers those who do not. And ultimately, it is completely unnecessary to the plot. The vast majority of books tell a damn good story without having the author's personal political or religious beliefs shoved down the readers' throats. It is even possible to tell a good political story without being partisan. Christopher Buckley, who is a Republican, wrote an entire book satirizing the American political system without once naming a political party.

There are too many lines drawn in the sand throughout our society. In a time when the extremes dominate the conversation, and the idea of "you're either with us or against us" has taken on a life of its own, people seem to have become so entrenched in their own particular opinions, mindsets, and world views that they are unwilling to compromise or even talk. I see it every day around me. I do not need or want to see it in books I read for pleasure.

Baen, of course, has the right to publish whatever they want. Just as I have a right to read whatever I want. Unfortunately, Baen's stable of new authors won't make it onto my TBR list.

Some Thoughts on Elizabeth Moon and Wiscon

SF3 has formally announced that it has withdrawn it's Wiscon 35 Guest of Honor invitation to Elizabeth Moon. While there is no explanation of why, it's pretty certain it's related to her blog post "Citizenship" from September 11th.

I find myself conflicted over this. I understand where SF3 is coming from. Many found Moon's posting deeply offensive, including some of the Wiscon staff. On the other hand, it does create ill-will and paint the con in a bad light for many, including those who have already pre-registered and paid looking forward to seeing Moon there as GoH.

But yet, when I think though this I find I ultimately agree with SF3's action. This was not a kneejerk, spur-of-the-moment decision. Moon's post was on September 11th. SF3 made their public announcement on October 21st. It is fairly obvious there was a long internal conversation about this (with some staffers threatening to quit if Moon remained GoH). Ultimately, I think SF3 decided that given the public conversation about Moon at the moment, that was not the particular conversation they want framing their con. Which is solely in their right.

If you go back and read Moon's post, she makes the point that new immigrates must assimilate to survive, and that is their duty as a good citizen. On the surface, this is a fairly innocuous statement -- until you probe deeper. The United States is a melting pot in which different cultures have come together to create a new, shared culture. But new cultures are continually entering into the pot, and rather than embracing and accepting them into the mix, American discourse has focused on excluding them. This is the case with the immigration debate, and the anti-Muslim hysteria that has undertaken our nation. I find this extremely disturbing and hypocritical.

Focusing on Muslim-Americans for a moment, I have to ask Who cares? Muslim hatred is no different than anti-Semitism or anti-Catholcism, or racism, or any other form of -ism out there. It is the painting of an entire group based on the actions of a subset of that group, or the belief in a stereotype that is not entirely true. We don't associate all Baptists with Fred Phelps, and we shouldn't associate all Muslims with Al Qaeda. Then there are those who not only continue to believe that President Obama is a Muslim, but say it as it's a bad thing -- by spouting such rhetoric, they are only exposing themselves as the bigots they are. But they are only the tip of a larger anti-Muslim voice that has been steadily gaining traction in the country.

The thought that "assimilation" is their only hope of success is deeply offensive when you consider what such assimilation would entail. For many, religion and culture are intrinsically intertwined, and to do without one is to do without the other. In France, this mindset has led to a law banning the burqa. While I would like to believe that something like that would not happen here, I would have never believed it would happen in France, either.

Moon's post sounds very reasonable, but it is indicative of moderate America, believing that the immigrant has a responsibility to compromise their culture but that those who are already here do not have the corresponding responsibility to accept this new culture. This speaks to a deeper societal issue of intolerance that needs to be addressed in order for America to continue to be the America founded on the principles of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Happy Genocide Day

It's been a while since my last post, and I have a number of half-written, half-baked ideas floating around ye ol' drafts folder. But instead of finishing one of those, I wanted to speak out about something: Columbus Day. It's a federally recognized holiday in which the federal government and many other businesses take off, school districts around the country are closed, and about which children are taught about the "discovery" of America by Europeans.

Growing up, my school district never got the day off; perhaps this was a political decision, as we were more liberal than most. Perhaps it was just logistical, giving us that day somewhere else like after Thanksgiving. But yet, I still learned "In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue" and the story of the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa María. It was the cookie-cutter history that every other school child learned, and has learned since.

Yet having a day devoted to a man who was, to be frank, not very nice and was the poster child for the near annihilation of the native peoples of two continents never sat well with me, even as a child. I guess my liberal roots sprouted early in life. On the scale of human history, I sympathize more with the Lakota, Arapaho, and Cheyenne than with Custer.

In college, I made a conscious, somewhat tongue in cheek, decision to refer to Columbus Day as "Genocide Day." It was supposed to be a humorous and not very serious declaration. This year, I'm continuing with that, but making it more serious.

So this year, and every year from now, I'm going to celebrate Columbus Day as "Genocide Remembrance Day" and take a few moments to think about all those who have been victims of genocide throughout history, and even today. And I will start with the American Indians, who really, are overlooked, marginalized, and not even thought of on this day.

I think when I get home, I'll pick up my copy of Custer Died For Your Sins by Vine Deloria, Jr.

Re-Reading is Good for the Soul

I have been discovering a lot of new authors lately but there are always those books I turn to when I need a quick pick-me-up or I'm in a reading slump or I just want to revisit with old friends. There is nothing quite like re-reading an old favorite, whether it's been months or years since the last time. For me, my comfort reads tend to fall into the science fiction or fantasy genres, which really is no surprise. Those were the books I read almost exclusively during my formative years.

A friend of mine is so busy at the moment that he is only reading new books. I think he's missing out.

We're human. We forget things. If it has been years since I last read a book, I can guarantee you that I will remember practically nothing about it other than if I liked it or not. In a way, it is almost like reading a new book, but not quite. You get deja vu as you turn the pages, and laugh in the same places you laughed before, and cry in the same places you cried before, and at the very end, you are still cheering for the main characters as they ride off into the sunset for their happily ever after.

Or, you get the shock that the book just isn't as good as you remember it. Which happens. Tastes change, we get more sophisticated in our language usage, or just expect more in a book than we did before. I, for one, have become utterly spoiled by Lois McMaster Bujold. Because of her, I now demand consistent characterization, realistic character development, a multi-layered but realistic plot, and well-written language. (I know, right? So demanding!)

I grew up on Nancy Drew. I devoured them, sometimes more than one in a span of a day. A while back, I picked up one of the classic Nancy Drew books, one of the one with the yellow covers, and tried to read it. I just couldn't. The writing was simplistic, the dialogue was painful in places, and I could not suspend my disbelief enough to ignore the first two.

But those are few and far between. I've found that generally, even if I've outgrown an author, I don't outgrow the books I have already read.

Whenever I go through a reading funk (and it happens more often than I would like), whether it's because I just don't have as much time at the moment to read, I don't find any particular book on my to-be-read list interesting enough to pick up, or I've gone through X number of not-so-great books, I find myself returning to old favorites. These are books that blew me away the first time I read them, that I connected to in some way, or played a role in the person I am today.

When I was in middle school, one of those books was The Talking Earth by Jean Craighead George. I read the library's copy repeatedly and I probably would have read it to pieces if it had been in paperback. Some others that I still find myself revisitng are:

• Jackaroo by Cynthia Voight: I swear this was the book that began my lifelong obsession with outlaws.
  
• The Outlaws of Sherwood by Robin McKinley: This book focused my outlaw obsession on Robin Hood
  
• The Lark and Wren by Mercedes Lackey: Long after I've outgrown this author, I still find myself re-reading this book every year or two.

Oddly enough, I don't find myself re-reading books that I first discovered as an adult, no matter how much I love them. Maybe I just haven't found that one special book yet.

Does anyone want to share their favorite re-reads?

Musings on Speculative Fiction

I am a science fiction fan. I even have an annual convention I attend. Until very recently, my for-pleasure reading list consisted almost entirely of space ships and aliens, dragons and magic. Science fiction and fantasy are two very different genres that are often lumped together in readers' heads because they are found in the same section of bookstores and libraries. Authors will often go back and forth between the two as well. However, they generally fall on two ends of the extreme on the environmental spectrum.

Fantasy stories, with some very notable exceptions, tend to feature in lands that are agrarian, forested, and with a pre-Industrial Revolution level of technology: a environmental utopia, if you will, before humanity invented the steam engine. Also interesting to note is that most fantasy novels take place in wholly imaginary worlds with fanciful names and elaborate maps that, while having attributes that might resemble Earth, are not found anywhere on this planet.

Science fiction, on the other hand, tends to exist in the realm of what could be: advanced technology and different planets and races that are discovered through the use of space travel. Where fantasy takes place in a vibrant world whose natural resources are largely untouched, science fiction occurs in a (no less vibrant) world that is metal and machines.

Both settings, if used widely, can be wonderful mediums for conveying green-tinged messages. Perhaps the most famous fantasy story of all, Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings is also one of the most environmentally-themed but done so subtly that most do not notice. In science fiction, the comparisons between a green world and one that is full of cities and technology can be highly effective. The settlers in Anne McCaffrey's Doona trilogy leave Earth, which has been developed to the point where there is only one-square mile of open green space, to eke out a life on a (supposedly) uninhabited planet.

Because science fiction tends to focus on the what-ifs associated with outer space, the planet Earth tends not to play a major role, mentioned only in passing if at all. This has led to a tendency, I believe, for science fiction fans to forget the importance of Earth in the drive to reach out there via the space program, a space elevator, or colonies on the Moon or Mars. But how productive is that? By looking outward to where we cannot yet go, are we turning our backs on where we are now? At my science fiction convention, there is a heavy science program, mainly focused on some aspect of space exploration. It seems slightly... off to me to put so much effort and attention on something that may not ever be, when there is so much to fix right here on good old Terra.