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rinueAlthough I am sometimes turned off by McDonalds, at other times I am comforted by how similar it is to food. The ketchup is something like a tomato. The patty is something like meat. The bun is something like bread and the cheese is a reasonable imitation of cheese. It is less like a hamburger than a memory of a hamburger made by someone resourceful on a spaceship many generations from Earth. That is sometimes a very happy thought.
I just finished reading Watership Down, which was my favorite cartoon as a kid, and which I haven't seen in a very long time. The book is extremely good - just as good as the cartoon, which is, in turn, an artful adaptation of the book. I'm glad to have finally encountered it. I've been pleased by children's books and riffs on them in a more general sense, with the recent, wonderful Fantastic Mr. Fox movie (with its embedded reference to other childhood loves - Davy Crockett and Disney's version of Robin Hood). I'm wearing a white sweater and a Scarlett-made hat with ears, which makes me feel like the king of the Wild Things.
It's cold. I should have the clothes to deal with it - you would think I do - but I'm cold anyhow. James has sensibly suggested long underwear. A fancy agent has asked to see the novel, which still doesn't mean it's been accepted, but is nevertheless a cheering sign of interest. I think I've finally gotten the hang of this particular type of cover letter.
I just finished reading Watership Down, which was my favorite cartoon as a kid, and which I haven't seen in a very long time. The book is extremely good - just as good as the cartoon, which is, in turn, an artful adaptation of the book. I'm glad to have finally encountered it. I've been pleased by children's books and riffs on them in a more general sense, with the recent, wonderful Fantastic Mr. Fox movie (with its embedded reference to other childhood loves - Davy Crockett and Disney's version of Robin Hood). I'm wearing a white sweater and a Scarlett-made hat with ears, which makes me feel like the king of the Wild Things.
It's cold. I should have the clothes to deal with it - you would think I do - but I'm cold anyhow. James has sensibly suggested long underwear. A fancy agent has asked to see the novel, which still doesn't mean it's been accepted, but is nevertheless a cheering sign of interest. I think I've finally gotten the hang of this particular type of cover letter.
