Tuesday, June 22, 2021

I am a huge Barbara Pym fan so I was thrilled when Stephen, a UK friend and pen pal, sent me a copy of this latest Pym biography which chronicles her early years. Below is an attempted Pym-like description of the book's delivery to my door!


Jane had suggested Sophie open the package only because the younger woman had been so disappointed to discover that her name had not been printed on any of the other mail carrier’s deliveries.

As Sophie held up the contents of the package with a listlessness that bordered on derision, Jane’s heart leaped.  It was a biography of an author she held in such high esteem that each lovely Dutton edition of the author’s novels decorated her bookshelf. This public adoration was no more than she had offered to her other favored writers—Jane Austen, and J.K. Rowling included—but here in these pages might be the key to understanding the writer who had made her laugh aloud repeatedly; more frequently, it might be added, than either Jane Austen or J.K. Rowling, who were both brilliant wits.

Dear Stephen! Her UK pen pal had kindly inquired whether she had read this latest biography and when she had mentioned that no library in the Chicago suburbs had been sensible enough to order it, he insisted on purchasing one for her.

Ah, the friendship among bibliophiles! Who outside the world of those who bonded over beautifully written phrases, clever plot points, and deftly crafted characters could possibly understand a gift such as this?

Jane smiled as she arranged her Pym shelf, took a photo of the new book, and emailed it immediately to Stephen. 

 

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Bits of my personal library

I've had one complaint (yes, I'm talking to you, Stephen!) about the lack of posts, so here are a few personal library photos, in very small select sections! Enjoy!


Incomplete but somewhat impressive Bronte sister shelf:

Dickens shelves, including photos from our very first Dickens reading (my literary friends aren't into social media much, but as these are photos within a photo, I thought I could get away with it). Lower right corner is a photo of my husband's plum pudding. It looks unappetizing from here but it was delicious. 



Barbara Pym shelf. When I got on Facebook more than a decade ago, I began a Barbara Pym fan club there. It has taken off so much that the membership--kept in careful check by myself and three other moderators--now boasts of nearly 1,000 people. She's a wonderful writer. 



Rosalie K. Fry shelf with the two treasures blocking all the others. 



And here are a few photos of some of the books I've written: First the Pacific Theater book surrounded by the books that provided research materials:



The Korean translation of my European Theater book--along with the earlier Spanish version--which came out late last year: 


Finally: for the past year or so I've also been writing children's stories for two of my piano students based on prompts they give me. The prompts are delightfully creative and they enjoy what I do with them. Here is one of the students, caught in the very act of reading my latest:


Saturday, September 14, 2019

Past reviews and essays, literary and otherwise

Before I started writing books for the Chicago Review Press, I wrote poetry and reviews. Below are a few of the best reviews/essays: 

That Girl: Season One: https://www.popmatters.com/that-girl-season-1-dvd-2496224924.html

Thames Shakespeare Collection: https://www.popmatters.com/the-thames-shakespeare-collection-macbeth-king-lear-romeo-juliet-twelfth-ni-2495705399.html

This WJ post brought hundreds of people into The Book Table (or so its owners told me at the time!). 
https://www.oakpark.com/News/Articles/12-6-2011/Missing-Borders-but-hailing-the-survivor-in-Oak-Park/

Another WJ post, this one on Oak Park's famous son: https://www.oakpark.com/2007/09/04/my-summer-with-ernest-hemingway/

Review of the live-action 2005 Narnia film: http://www.wildviolet.net/phoenix_rising/narnia.html

Review of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants: http://www.wildviolet.net/mythic_mist/sisterhood.html


And finally, my review of each cinematic Fitzwiliam Darcy:  http://www.wildviolet.net/phoenix_rising/darcy.html


Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Deer in the Graveyard at 16th Street

Just published: https://peekingcatpoetry.co.uk/kathryn-atwood-2

I know the deer who were immortalized :) in the above poem survived being chased because I was able to film them about a year later. Only one appears in the video below, but as you can see, she keeps looking back towards her sister:

https://www.instagram.com/p/BxaPPNpnFot/

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Ode to a Cold Snap

Just published!




My brother's cool video illustrates line four very well. 

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Harry Potter and the Clue of the Screeching Owl: Harry Potter Characters in a Hardy Boys Setting (4)

Ron was sitting alone with a huge bag of popcorn in one hand, a bag of peanuts in the other, and a frothy cloud of pink cotton candy between his knees. He didn’t notice his friends entering the tent, partly because the frothy cloud of pink cotton candy was blocking his side view, but also because what he was looking at. It was a man in a cage—Harry assumed he was the aforementioned Colonel Bill Thunder--dressed in a white shirt, white riding breeches, and shining black boots. He had thick dark hair, a mustache…well, you get the picture: tall, dark, handsome, a whip in his hand. And there were four large black panthers on chairs before him.

“That’s animal cruelty!” cried Hermione, as she sat down next to Ron, who was so startled that he promptly spilled half his popcorn on a burly tattooed man seated in front of him. The man turned around with a surly expression while Ron, terrified, pointed to Hermione.

“I’m sorry, sir, that you were showered with popcorn, but that”, she said, pointing to the cage before them, “that is animal cruelty, plain and simple. These beasts weren’t intended to be whipped and trained for our entertainment. Their destiny is to be free and wild, their sleek coats gleaming in the occasional spots of sun in the rainforests of southeast Asia where they tend to be at the top of the food chain.”

Harry immediately understood that Hermione had done a lot of reading long before Hogwarts a History had become her favorite book.

The tattooed man stared at Hermione. Harry took her arm, thinking that his friend needed to get out of there fast. Then the man’s eyes filled with tears. His bottom lip began to tremble.

“Never heard ‘nuffin so beautiful in all my life” he blubbed. “Those cats should be— how did you say it, Miss? I want this tattooed on my ankle. Harry looked at the man’s heavily tattooed legs. His ankles were the only part of his legs that were free of ink.

The burly man took out a pen and a notebook.

“What was the part about them bein’ wild and free…?”

“free and wild” corrected Hermione, “their sleek coats gleaming in—”

“Wait, not so fast. Wild…and…free”

“Their sleek coats gleaming---”

“Their…sleek…coats…”

Fascinating as this interchange was, Harry’s attention was turned to the cage. One of the panthers looked like he was going to jump on the trainer whose back was turned.

“ ‘eww be kiwed!” shrieked Ron, who jumped up, spilling the remains of the popcorn, peanuts, and cotton candy all over the burly man’s open notebook.

“Sorry, sir” said Ron, “but the panther! Look at the panther!”

Colonel Bill Thunder heard Ron’s voice and turned around just in time. He snapped his whip in the panther’s face, missing contact but scaring the beast enough that it jumped back onto its chair, snarling, hatred in its eyes.

The crowd broke into wild applause. Hermione stood up and looked around furiously. So did the burly tattooed man.

“You lot should all be ashamed of yerselves” the man cried. "Them beasts,” he said, pointing to the cage while reading from his notebook, “should be free and wild, their sleek coats gleaming in the occasional spots ‘o sun in the rainforests ‘o southeast Asia where they tend to be…”

But the three friends didn’t stay to hear the rest of the speech that had the crowd, as well as Colonel Bill, dumbstruck. Ron and Harry pulled Hermione out by one arm as she waved to the burly man with the other.

Part One (which contains links to the other posts). 

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Harry Potter and the Clue of the Screeching Owl: Harry Potter characters in a Hardy Boys setting (3)


Harry and Hermione jumped into the back seat and the car took off with Ron in the driver’s seat.

“Bloody ehw!” screamed Ron as he swerved the car out of the way of a flock of flying horses. They only came out on cloudy days so they wouldn’t be seen by the muggles below.

He had to descend quickly to avoid hitting then. But straight ahead was a mountain. There was no time to pull up.

“AHHHHHHHH!” screamed Ron and Harry. “Eviscerate!” cried Hermione, pointing her wand at the mountain.

The mountain before them crumbled and tumbled into the valley below, leaving a path for the car.

“Oops” said Hermione, as she saw the villagers below running for their lives.

“Avalanche Leviosa!” The rocks all hung in space while the villagers watched, dumbstruck.

“Mons Repairo!” The rocks all fell upwards and the mountain, now far beneath them, was just as it had been before they started messing with it.

Pointing her wand towards the dumbstruck villagers, Hermione shouted, “Obliviate!” The villagers, who now seemed quite small from the car, looked at each other for a moment as if they were wondering why they were all standing there. Then they went back to their work.

“A little underage magic there, eh, Hermione?” smiled Harry

“We would have been killed, Harold.” She was apparently still miffed, more so because she was breaking school and ministry rules, which she never felt comfortable doing. This brings up the obvious question as to why she spent so much time with Harry and Ron since they rarely followed rules of any kind. 

“So what does the letter say, exactly?” Harry asked Hermione, whose arms were folded tightly and whose face expressed a combination of humiliation and rage.

Harry wasn’t as interested in the contents of the letter as he was in putting Hermione in a better mood. She was always the first to raise her hand in class and loved when the teachers called on her to read aloud.  Harry and Ron needed Hermione on their side and Harry thought a request to read might do the trick. It worked.

Hermione pulled out the letter. “Dear Arthur”, she read, in a tone that sounded almost upbeat, “There have been some funny goings-on around Black Hollow. Look into it.”

She put the letter down, with a slightly disappointed look on her face, as if she wished it had been longer.

“Funny?” called Ron from the front seat, as he swerved to avoid another flock of flying horses. “Funny as in jokes? Or funny as in weird?”

“I would think the latter, Ron” said Hermione.

Harry smiled. It was Ron and not Ronald. Things were back to normal.  

“That town up ahead, Ron,” said Harry, “the one in the crater. Could that be Black Hollow?”

“It’s not a crater, Harry” corrected Hermione. “We’re not at war or on the moon. It’s called a hollow when a piece of land is lower than that which surrounds it. See how it’s much lower than those woods?”

"Looks like a good place to leave the car" said Ron, descending the car, making shre no muggles were watching. "Sincerely ‘ope there are no spiders in there."

“Why, Ron?” asked Harry, as they walked into the clearing. 

Ron stopped and scratched his head. “Not sure.”

As they neared Black Hollow, they saw, arising from the midst of the crater, a huge Ferris wheel.

“Blimey!” shouted a smiling Ron. “It’s a carnival! I love carnivals! I can smell the popcorn from here!”

He ran towards the smell, his friends tailing him, begging him to slow down. But Ron, if a bit thick, was a very fast runner, and soon Hermione and Harry were poking their heads into every carnival tent, looking up at every ride to see if Ron was riding the “Whip”, the “Octopus” or if he was soaring high on the enormous Ferris wheel.

They finally found him inside a tent labeled “Colonel Bill Thunder: Fearless Animal Trainer.”