Physical Therapy Day 3

 It is not really my goal to have this blog focus exclusively on doctor visits and therapy, but that's one of the things on my mind right now!

Last Wednesday was the third day of physical therapy. You might notice that it has been two weeks since my last visit, when I was feeling a little anxious about heading back in to an open room with other patients and a few therapists walking around. Well, after posting, I reached out to my physical therapist. I told her that I wasn't terribly comfortable with the situation, and she offered a couple of solutions:

• continue weekly therapy in a private room
• discontinue therapy but take away a progressive series of exercises.

Heartened by her willingness to work with my concerns, I suggested something a little different: in-person therapy every other week, starting on the recumbent stationary bike in the open gym area (because I liked that part, and it didn't take very long), and then proceeding to the private room. She agreed! So last week was my first visit of this updated schedule.

This was a very good choice. 

After the last visit, I had a series of exercises that I was supposed to do twice daily and some that I was supposed to do every day. The reverse clamshell and pelvic tilt were twice daily; the sidelying leg raise, the L-shaped hip abduction, and the piriformis stretch were every other day. Unfortunately, I was not usually able to work in two of the twice daily routines, and some days (the days when I was trying to do THREE sequences) I wound up feeling very sore.

To address this, the therapist observed how I was doing the exercises. She noticed immediately that I was using my back to lift my leg up really high--and so not actually working the muscle that was supposed to be worked. So she told me to adjust the lower leg to stabilize my core and not lift so high. Voilà! Working the correct muscle. She also advised warming up before doing the PT exercises, not doing the abduction exercises (the "L" lift and the sidelying leg lift) on the same day, and ending with the piriformis stretch. She told me to do diaphragm/belly breathing every day as well as hip tilts in any position with core engagement.

So on a basic level, I learned that I have been doing every exercise just a little bit wrong for... oh, forever. I'm not sure exactly what this means--that I should really only do exercise while supervised? That isn't very practical. One problem does seem to be that all exercise programs assume a base level of strength. And while I was strong in some areas, I was apparently very, very weak in others. Hopefully, strengthening these key areas will allow me to do other exercise independently.

I did ask her whether I might add in some other exercise some days, like yoga. She said to look specifically for "gentle" or "restorative" practices. I might have been pushing it a little to do a "core" routine, but it was only 10 minutes long and worked on some of the weak muscles. I was excited to avoid the dreaded "hip click" in the "toe tap" leg lower and lift sequence, similar to the below:

Engaging the core--who knew? 

So now instead of trying to do three sets of exercise on one day and one the next, I have two routines that I alternate. It is working well! I was ever able to go outside and do some gardening (with a lot of bending over and squatting) on Saturday without a problem! (Unless you count that my back muscles are still sore two days later, but it's not the same. It's an area that doesn't usually cause me any problem, and, you know, it's muscle soreness. It's just different.)

Today, we resumed our morning mile walk (my husband and I, joined by daughter #1, who finds that it gives her a good start to the day). We slept in both weekend mornings.

Now, the anxiety is still present, it's just not as bad.

I didn't sleep particularly well Saturday evening because of a cough. I don't have asthma, but whatever the internet says about it, allergies regularly give me a cough. All allergy symptoms seem worse for me when ragweed is dominant, and ragweed is dominant. Strange that I didn't even have allergies until the past several years. (Did you know that this can be a little-known symptom of perimenopause? Fun fact.) So I coughed quite a bit that night. Which made me anxious. Because, you know, COVID. As I was trying to rationalize it away on Sunday, with my throat itching and screaming at me, I realized--no, I haven't been limiting myself to just a few relatively safe places, I went to physical therapy. So I worried for a bit that I would have to get a COVID test (we had required texting for work week before last). But I took Benadryl and Advil and felt better throughout the day. When symptoms returned in the evening, I took more Benadryl (a child's dose each time) and forgot all about them. I slept well with no coughing. But in the meantime, every variation from my routine that corresponds to symptoms is bound to increase my anxiety. I'm so tired of it, really.

But overall, things are improving, and the outlook is good! I'm glad I didn't take the "no visits/progressive exercise routine" option. I would probably have persisted in the errors that made me hurt more. I'm really hoping that as I get stronger, I will feel better and be able to enjoy more kinds of activities. I tried to jog last week--a mistake because I think I had something like a mild shin splint (or that kind of pain, anyway) as a result. But maybe jogging can eventually happen. Rowing is rib- rather than hip-related, but dare I hope that I could, one day use my rower? Time will tell.

Cheers!

New Post from The Reluctant Romance Reader

 

I'm picky about romance novels--but also predictable.

As I've binge-read romance novels, I've noticed certain patterns in my reading. I don't have any strict rules about what I read,** per se. But I have noticed that I am more likely to be drawn to, engaged by, and finish romance novels, not to mention emerge satisfied, if they meet certain criteria. Some of these criteria are not easy to pin down. For example, they have to be "smart." Now, what do I mean by "smart"? I haven't a clue. Not self-consciously smart. Not necessarily anything that pushes boundaries. And not really something that makes a point of challenging the norms of the times in which they were written--or at least, not in a way that is implausible. But written in a way that respects my intelligence as a reader, and written by an author who is deliberate about the craft of writing and researching (without making it sound like a research paper with smooching, because research can go too far). I have looked at lists of "smart" romance novels, and picked and chosen from among those. Not all--and not all that were recommended by writers whom I do like--appeal to me. We all have different ideas of what is "smart," I think.

Other than "smart," I have managed to pin down a few criteria....

Read more here.

Cheers!

Physical Therapy and Anxiety

 On Friday I had my second day of physical therapy, and the first that was actually physical. I realized how little I knew what to expect. I saw the large gym-like room beyond the normal doctor's office exam rooms, but I didn't consider what that would mean. I also didn't realize that physical therapy would be a weekly thing for me. After all, I wasn't injured!

So I had two appointments last week. Nothing for this week yet; appointments are tight. I was called about an opening on Monday--so Tuesday, Friday, and then Monday. I turned it down, primarily because I do in fact have something that I need to get done for work. But it also seemed very soon to have another. How does Friday to Monday count as "weekly"? I also cancelled two other appointments for this coming week--a podiatry appointment for my recurring ankle pain, and a well visit I had made for my youngest. I am simply not comfortable going to the doctor's office (which is part of a hospital complex) so often. As it is, I have allergy symptoms (well, I think and hope they are allergy symptoms!) that are making we anxious. They are not uncommon symptoms, even for me, but while last year they could be dismissed as not Covid--particularly since I hadn't been anywhere in the outside world--this year, the symptoms of Covid are different because of the Delta variant, and the rationale that symptoms would be worse if it was Covid is also not one that I can fall back on, because I'm vaccinated. So: anxiety.

Where have I been lately, since I've been "out in the world," you ask? Nowhere much. Work: I'm only on site about 20 hours a week. Grocery stores: sparingly. Most of the time, we use curbside. I love knowing that I have those hours that I would otherwise be spending in stores back in my life. And doctor's appointments. And that's it. My children are enrolled in a virtual school, which is working out very well, and they don't have to deal with all of the incredible stupidity that accompanies in-person school or the additional stupidity of mask controversy and confrontation. My husband is working full-time on site, but the staff is still being cautious and the number of patrons is limited. Literally, the riskiest thing I do is go to the doctor, where sick people go.

So PT day 2: I was actually engaged in therapy. First, I was put onto a very cool recumbent elliptical machine. I want one. Then I was moved to a padded table for some exercises and some continued evaluation. One of the things that came to light is that my left hip was an inch or so lower than my right. So the therapist pulled the right leg so that the hips were even. For the rest of the day, I admit that I felt a bit uneven. Kind of like this:

I emerged from the appointment with some new exercises to do in addition to the reverse clamshell and pelvic tilt from the first appointment. These was a hip abduction--basically, a very familiar sidelying leg-lift--and two that were less familiar, a sidelying leg lift that is done from an L-shaped angle. Literally the only image I can find of this is a still from Buns of Steel, on this blog. The other is what I like to think of as a "reverse figure-4." It's the opposite of what I am usually told to do in videos and classes--to cross one ankle over the other leg and push down. This is a "piriformis stretch modified 3," and I need to cross one ankle over the other leg and pull forward. A very different sensation!

In addition to the revelation that my hips were uneven, it was a revelation to me that engaging your core muscles doesn't always mean engaging them inward, which is what pilates teaches: as if your bellybutton is being pulled from behind you by a string. Instead, I was told to laugh--which engages the muscles outward--and keep that engagement. This is more like what I've found happens during weightlifting, for example, during a deadlift.

And then I learned that my hip doesn't have to pop! When I mention my popping hips to doctors, the response is something like "Yeah, that can happen." The impression I have been given is that this disconcerting feeling is simply in the range of normal, probably (by implication) because of my age, or just because that's how some people are made. The physical therapist, on the other hand, is actively trying to minimize or eliminate the pop that occurs when I raise and lower my leg, or when I try rowing. And this, to me, is absolutely amazing. If we could work on the crunching feeling in my back, I would be most grateful!

But I'm concerned about going back. As I mentioned earlier, the appointments are frequent. We're still in a pandemic, and local numbers are going up every week--particularly with the return of college students. The physical therapy room is large, but there were at least 5-6 other patients, and 3-4 physical therapists. We were all masked, but my therapist was literally inches from me. And this, right now, doesn't quite feel okay. I have put in an email to my primary physical therapist; hopefully she will have some reassurances. Until then,

Cheers!

New Blog Announcement: The Reluctant Romance Reader

 Today I launched a new blog: The Reluctant Romance Reader. It will be a focused, but meandering book review-type blog. Head over and check it out if you're curious!

Cheers!

Literacy-chic

Physical Therapy Day 1

Today marks a new kind of experience for me: physical therapy. I have increasingly become more comfortable with medical evaluations. This is something I have worked up to slowly, because certain phrases ("I'll refer you to a cardiologist," or "Unless you want to consider physical therapy") just signaled something far more serious than what I was experiencing. Cardiology is for people with heart problems, not people who can't find the right blood pressure med. And physical therapy is for people who have been injured. And maybe this is still getting used to the world of good health insurance, which I have, courtesy of my employer, who also mandates an annual "wellness visit" calculated to make me a hypochondriac. I'm learning to get over that, as well.

The Problem

The problem is joint pain. I can trace it back to at least 2017, maybe further back than that. I have gone to the doctor repeatedly for back pain, rib pain, hip pain, pain behind my knee, ankle pain... But the hip and the back pain are the most consistent over the years, and the hip pain in particular is the most limiting. I have learned some things over the course of Googling, since anything that's unexplained and non-life-threatening remains a medical mystery until you're referred to a specialist (i.e. - until it's that bad). One thing is that outer hip pain and inner hip pain are different. Inner hip pain is about joints. Outer hip pain is about ligaments. This is important, because outer hip pain can't be osteoarthritis. 

Another thing is that most adults can't bend over and put their palms flat on the floor. Huh. If you can, then something in your back/hip area is hyper-mobile, and when you stretch to the point that it's a little bit painful because it feels good, that's not good. Here is the web site that gave me a breakthrough or two; there's a lot of postpartum/pelvic floor/etc. information, and it's focused on women-specific anatomical issues (a great thing!), so a lot of it isn't what I was looking for, but there's a free course about hips. While I didn't really do the program, the pre-course 'evaluate your flexibility' segment gave me an 'aha!' moment, and I immediately tried to STOP over-extending when I exercise. This has helped some. 

Not long before I discovered this, I sent a message to my doctor in despair--everything hurts, all the time. I had had several days of just being sore, and not muscle soreness, even though it was from exercise. I had been trying since June to be more active, and participating in a 'Hinge Health' program to help my hip pain for several months before that. But in June, I proposed to my husband that we start getting up at 6:30 a.m. and taking walks. The primary objective was to get his A1C in a range that was acceptable to his doctor and avoid medication.

We started with the neighborhood, but the pavement is very uneven. We moved to a nearby 1/3 mile track to even things out. Still, the first two times I walked that mile, I was imagining myself with a walker. That is how bad the pain was. I already had good shoes, but some internet searching told me that more arch support would help. Not wanting to replace a pricey pair of tennies, I opted instead for fancy shmancy insoles from our local  upscale/earthy/orthopedic shoe store (you know the type). They helped immensely! After the walks, I would do my hip exercises from the app/program, but more and more, this seemed not to be a good idea. As the day wore on, I was just... sore. Hence the email to the doctor.

While I was waiting for the physical therapy appointment, I tried a couple of other things. I dialed back all other exercise, consciously trying not to extend my joints to their limits. I also bought a compression band to wear around my hips when we walk. And after our walks, when we're heading the few blocks home in the car, the seat warmers are wonderful. These things seemed to help. But as short-term solutions. (Actually, I need to ask the physical therapist if the band is still okay. The seat warmer is fine.)

The Appointment

The appointment went very well. Doctor visits often frustrate me because I want explanations. And instead I get something like, "Well, if that hurts, don't do that." (Exaggerating--mostly it's "maybe these exercises will help what we kind of think you might be talking about?" Which isn't better, really.) But the physical therapist actually knows what can cause pain. In my case, it looks like certain muscles are weak, and other muscles are doing more than their fair share of the work of movement, which is putting strain on ligaments. Also, I do seem to be hyper-mobile in some areas in my back. So I have been on the right track. The beauty is that she can pinpoint areas that need strengthening and tell me what exercises to do to strengthen those areas.

After chatting with me for a while, she evaluated my flexibility, having me bend forward and back, asking me where there might be pain. (Another issue I often have with normal doctor appointments is that by the time I get to the doctor, the specific pain is not there. This wasn't a problem at the PT appointment. They can evaluate without the pain being present.) I did some heel lifts, standing, raising up on my toes, one leg at a time. Then, she evaluated strength--having me trying to hold a position when she pressed down: knees lifted, leg extended, then a "clamshell" position, then "reverse" clamshell. The reverse clamshell turned into one of my first exercises. She evaluated my hip flexibility--which, she confirmed, is not a problem for me.

After the Visit

I came home and changed. (I wasn't sure what to wear, so I wore capri jeans and brought knit shorts--good call on the shorts!) Then... I stayed. I can work from home, so I did. Because I am sore. Not terribly so. But wait--I took Advil! So... yeah. Still, not terribly so. Heaviness in my joints. Tiredness. Better to be home where heat can be applied if needed. But hopeful.

A Theory

I have a sneaky suspicion that hormones might be compounding my hip (and rib) issues. I know that when I was (very briefly) pregnant last January, my hips were immediately affected. Lying on my side was already painful, and I dreaded the thought of 9 months of that. When the pregnancy ended and the hormones leveled out, that level of pain went away. I haven't mapped my hip pain to my menstrual cycle, but I wonder if there might be some correlation. I did read that joint pain was a little-discussed symptom of perimenopause, and while I'm missing some of the most obvious markers, there are some other suspicious symptoms that might be explained by hormones. Without hot flashes, though, no one listens. (To be fair, I used to wake up very uncomfortably warm in the middle of the night, but since taking Vitamin E for breast pain, that seems to have stopped...)

But anyway, that's where I am for today. In a good place, I think.

Cheers!

___

Disclaimer: None of the links I post are monetized. I just want to share.

Who am I?

 Here I am at the beginning of another blog reboot, this time returning to my roots. Sort of. It's hard, after all, to return to a mindset and sense of purpose (or a place where you didn't need a sense of purpose) after, oh... 14 years. I actually had to look that up--it feels much longer. But I am returning to my first blog. It feels appropriate, once again, to write under the label of "Words, Words" rather than trying to define myself more specifically. I may still branch off a little. I've picked up a bit of a romance novel habit that some of my blog friends may not be interested in--nay, may find distasteful. And "Booknotes from Literacy-chic," which I intend to keep up, doesn't quite feel like the right place, either. But I'll probably keep this as the hub. In the meantime, I rolled another blog that never really got off the ground, but had some interesting snapshots from a former workplace, into this one. I've decided that I was compartmentalizing a bit too much. It's not really who I am.

"Who am I?" indeed.

Identity is a strange question, isn't it? Much stranger than when I first started blogging in January 2007. I'm not really here to introduce myself, rather, I want to sort through the things that make up my life right now, in 2021.

Things that are the same (but different), in alphabetical order:

• Catholicism

I am still Catholic. Of course. But I am not the fresh convert that I once was, working to arrange my life according to Church teachings. Surprise! Do Church teachings still exercise influence in my life? Of course. Are these influences as powerful and compelling as they used to be? Sadly, no. This is perhaps for the better, since I don't argue and agonize about them as I once did. But my Catholic faith is still an important part of who I am. At least, I think so. These days I mainly concern myself with what parishes are not doing to prevent the spread of COVID-19, and our mass attendance is through YouTube.

• Family

Need it be said? Family is still one of the most important things to me. My oldest, now 24, is still at home, and we love this. He's completing his B.A. this year after a challenging educational journey that has more to do with finances than anything. He is also working alongside me at my workplace, but I don't expect to say much about that. My two daughters, 13 and 15, are in 8th and 11th grade, respectively. Last Spring (2020) they went online by mandate, and in 2020-2021, we found one of the best online schools in the country and decided to stick with it for 2021-2022. I have a husband with a solid academic career in libraries that I alternately support and resent, mostly at the same time. But I'm proud of him and I love him and I'm so happy that I have him. We're coming up to our 25th wedding anniversary next year. I still have a mother and brother who I worry about, and 4 other siblings with whom I have limited contact--in one case more, in another case, none at all.

• Reading

Books are still a large part of my life. What I read has shifted drastically as well as, shall we say, how I use books. There's a lot more escapist reading and a lot less literary snobbery in my life, although I am still particular, and selective. I still post to my Booknotes blog occasionally, when something strikes me, but less analytical posts may wind up here. I may also start a romance reading blog.

• Sewing

I still sew when the mood takes me. I made some masks. I make clothing sometimes with variable success. I started a blog long ago that I thought would be devoted to sewing, but working through frustrations with patterns publicly just didn't seem the best use of my time. I may post about sewing here sometimes. We'll see.

• Writing

This may also go without being said? I come back to writing at times. It never leaves me, though sometimes I leave it for a time. I was writing a dissertation when I started (except that I had to give up blogging for Lent in order to actually finish the dissertation). Now, I have a book project that I'm not working on. The more things change...

Things that are new:

• Academia

Academia is not a part of my life. This is new. I may still have some thoughts on it from time to time, but I am out, and besides the resentment that it had to be like this, I am fine with it. It is no longer a place where I feel I belong.

• Art

In short, I do more of it now! Not currently, but periodically. It started with Inktober, which I'm not linking to for reasons. I don't need controversy, and I don't actually care about other people's angst on the topic; it was a neat idea. I wound up rediscovering (in 2015, if memory serves) that I can draw fairly well, and I enjoy doing so. When I was out of work in 2018-19, I developed a comic. A small sampling of the comic and my most recent partial Inktober efforts can be found here. Well, that's embarrassing. It seems that the posts I had scheduled to roll out one by one did not. <<cue mass posting>>

• COVID-19

This is a part of who everyone is these days, isn't it? I don't know that I'll have a lot to say about it, but who knows? My girls are in an online school; our workplaces are operating as conservatively as possible. My son will have to attend classes in person, but he will be masked and is vaccinated, as we all are. We all still have our fears and anxieties, but we're coping so far.

•  Crochet

Crochet is my "lockdown skill." I had a grandmother and an aunt who did (very different) crochet, and last year, 2nd daughter and I taught ourselves. My house now has a lot more yarn.

• Exercise

Okay, one of my first ever blog posts was about yoga, and the blog I merged with this one had a post about exercise, but maybe it wasn't a huge part of my life and blog in the past. It is now. Mainly because it has to be. Which brings us to...

• Health

Oh, where to begin? Some of this was already surfacing with the "rolled in" blog. I need to be aware of blood pressure and cholesterol, the former is currently under control to good effect and after much trial and error. I'm wondering whether some things I'm experiencing signal perimenopause. I have some issues with my joints--outer hips, lower back, right ankle--and a lot of anxiety about health issues. My husband has issues with blood pressure (under control), cholesterol (not), and blood sugar (with type-2 diabetes in the family and a "get the numbers down" kind of ultimatum). The kids are fine, but could be more active, particularly being at home more.

• (No More) Babies 

My early blogging days were filled with pregnancy and breastfeeding and other concerns related to babies. These experiences are no longer part of my life. For a few brief weeks in January 2020, we thought there might be another baby. This was not to be. Given the events of the year and my anxiety about the whole thing, this is probably for the best. There's a brief reflection on the experience here. I may make reference to this happening some time. 

• Pens and Inks

While it is true that I have used fountain pens sporadically over the past 20 years or so, this is a hobby/practice that blossomed during the pandemic with my discovery of the wonders of shimmery ink! It is very possible that I may write about this in the future.

• Publishing

Publishing is part of my life because it's my job. I have a book contract, but I'm not currently working on the book. Maybe that part of publishing will resurface in my life. 

• Teaching Certification

This is something I'm seriously considering. So seriously that I've submitted an application to a post-baccalaureate certification program, which will have part of its tuition covered because of my employment with the university. I'm not sure teaching high school will be feasible or enjoyable. But it's an option, and options are important.

• Television

I usually don't include TV in my blogging. I don't watch what anyone else watches. But the shows I do watch, I've been really captivated by. They might pop up. They include:

• The Secret History of the British Garden with Monty Don
• Hidden Villages with Penelope Keith
• Penelope Keith's Village of the Year
• Wartime Farm
• Edwardian Farm
• Tudor Farm
• Victorian Farm
• Wainwright Walks

If I ever make it to England for a holiday, I will almost certainly not visit the urban centers.

• Work

Work has been a problem. It wasn't such a problem when I started, mainly because I was a graduate student who only had to worry about one class at a time--if that--in addition to whatever scholarship I was supposed to be working on. Kind of changes things to have to work full time, you know? But the blog that I recently merged with this one was a real attempt to come to terms with the kind of work I was doing (technology training) in relation to the kind of work I was trained to do (academic teaching and scholarship). The blog didn't last and neither did the career. What did last was the sense of dissatisfaction, and, at times, utter despair. Jealousy--that my husband has the more interesting job where he is respected, where he learns things and talks about intellectual things, and my knowledge that it can also be a complete pain and inconvenience for all of us: these are all included, too. My blog posts have never concealed my deficits. Usually, I reveal them in painful detail. And my relationship to my work and to his work is an area that is... fraught. 

• Word Limits?

I don't have one in mind, but I'm putting this out there. A few limitations might help me to actually post regularly, and might prevent people from being bored before the end.

So if not who I am, this is where I am. The earlier question is something I'm trying to work out all the time.

Cheers!

New Ventures: First Week of Work

This week, after almost a year without employment, I started a new job--kind of a dream job, really--working at an academic press as an Editorial Assistant. I was actually offered the job in February, but the way the hiring process worked, I wasn't actually hired until April. It's an entry-level job doing more or less what anyone wants me to do. It is NOT, however, copy editing! "Editorial Assistant" does NOT mean correcting grammar all day! This is a good thing, although I am still trying to figure out what being an Editorial Assistant does mean. 

Monday morning, I arrived just before 8, and the front doors were locked. I saw someone entering the building from a side door, but I did not catch her attention, so I waited! I met a student worker who also did not have a key before someone came to let us in. All good so far! The first thing I had to do was get some paperwork out of the way. Frankly, at this point everything is sort of fuzzy. 

At some point fairly early, I saw the inside of my office for the first time! It was larger than I expected, since its strategic placement behind a large laser printer suggested that it had been a supply closet. Turns out--surprise!--it had! But it was a roomy one, so that meant that the primary consequence of its being converted was that it had industrial tile instead of 30-year-old carpet. All things considered, I'm not inclined to complain. I was told immediately to make myself at home and arrange things however I liked, which was nice because the place was jam-packed with furniture, not all of it serviceable. 

Over the next two days, arranging furniture was primarily what I did, with various people popping in to offer help with varying degrees of insistence. However, it is difficult to tell others what to do when you're trying to figure out the arrangement and the logistics at the same time! The wall to my right had a tall bookcase and two short ones stacked. The wall opposite the door had the wooden desk that was being used for the (new!) computer, a small file cabinet, and two desks arranged face-to-face to make a table of sorts, the left hand wall... I don't even remember, and the wall with the door had two full-sized file cabinets, and a giant storage cube with another short bookcase on top of it. Now, friends, I'm not going to go into the gory details, but it was dirty and in serious need of organization (and still needs organization). I don't think anyone knows what old paperwork is in those drawers, and the coffee spills I cleaned off of walls and furniture were at least 10 years old--likely more. The only furniture I removed, finally, was one desk and the storage cube. Everything else fit rather nicely, and people were actually amazed when they started to see what I had in mind! Over these two or three days, and really into today, I realized just how excited people seemed to be to have me there--particularly the Editorial team. It's pretty cool how the press is set up (all housed in one building, which needs some TLC, but is a nice space overall): There is a hallway that more or less runs around the building, and the offices are set up (by design) to mirror the publication process. The first hallway is the Editorial staff, with my office at the end of that hallway, more or less at the edge of the "public" space, which has a sitting area, a book display, and several bookshelves of press books; there is also a reception desk attended by a student worker who sits opposite the main entrance (the one with the cool doors). Just past the receptionist desk is a very cool conference room with a long oval table, wood panelling, and shelves to display select press books. The coolest thing is that the wall that faces the front of the building is glass, with blinds, so that the light that filters through the front windows comes into the conference room. This is where I had my on-site interview. Past the conference room there is the supply room, another desk for the administrative assistant, whose office is to the left, and to the right a hallway, with the next department's offices--this time, the design team because after editing, the book goes to Design. Around the next turn we find Marketing. There are also Business offices, but I'm not yet sure where they fit... I think they're in between Design and Marketing. There is a warehouse at the end of the hall that forms the third side of the square, and then back down the fourth hallway to Editorial again. All of the offices that were built as offices have natural light. Alas! Mine does not. But nor does it have that carpet... 

Monday at lunch there was a potluck, which is something that they do every month to celebrate birthdays--apparently mine is the only in January. Monday's potluck featured enchiladas and taco salads. After the potluck was the "All hands" meeting, which I will always mentally call the "All hands on deck" meeting. It is also a "launch" meeting, which is not a final book launch, but the launch of the project by Editorial to the rest of the Press. This includes a session of hashing out the title, which sounds like my idea of fun. Monday we were not launching any projects, but maybe this coming Monday! As I write this, I actually forgot that there would be another of these meetings on Monday. It is literally a multi-hour meeting, and seems like a good way to pass the time to me! 

Editorial is still down one person--my supervisor, whom I have not yet met, who is out on maternity leave and expected back in May. However, it seems that the Press is almost always down a person--not in terms of staffing, because there is very little turnover--but simply because of people being out of the office for Press-related business, usually marketing, but sometimes (it seems) picking up proofs from authors? Anyway, that's not part of my job. Which is fine, really. Maybe one day, but not today! I don't know that there has been a day--or a time in a given day--when my whole team (minus the General Editor) has been there the whole day. This can create some... inefficiency. Confusion is not really the right word, because everyone else knows what should be happening. But they don't onboard often, which means that they don't have an onboarding process, which means no one really knows what has been explained to me. But it's not because I'm being neglected, or because they think they need to wait until I'm ready or anything ridiculous like that. People pop in on me from time to time, and when they finally did give me work, I sort of had to remind me that no one exactly showed me the processes, or gave me important information like what the folder titles on the Share drive *meant.* 

So anyway, Monday passed in a whirl, and left me absolutely exhausted and with a bit of information overload (about who had been where, and what they were doing re: different projects, or profits, or what have you). But that exhaustion was also related to a BP med--the second that I have tried at this point, at a very extremely low dose. But on Sunday and Monday, this particular medicine made me too tired to function on a normal level, and also gave me some little spasming pains in my chest that freaked me out. On Monday, also, my BP spiked way above what was normal for me without the med--maybe in part because I was panicked about the pain and also exhausted? So I had to contact the doctor. Rather than try something new, I went back to the first one, which unfortunately doesn't seem particularly effective (any more--after only a month) at low doses, and at higher doses (which for me seems to be the minimum dose, just not cut in half) makes my heart race, which is the opposite of what it is supposed to do. I have already had to change doctors over the matter of BP meds because the authoritarian I had been seeing by default felt (rightly) that I didn't trust her judgment. So Tuesday, I went back to the first med, and made an appointment on Thursday with the new doctor to discuss options. So that was something added to the balance of the week. 

A change that my employment has wrought in our lives is that now I do not pick up the girls from school. Also, instead of my dropping off my husband, he drops me off after we bring the girls to school. The girls actually attend school right across the street from the Press, which is pretty amazing. So though he has started picking them up from school at 4, he couldn't do so on Tuesday, so I literally walked across the street to them and they met me, and we walked back to the Press! I had my colleague--who was the hiring manager while the General Editor was on leave--tell me that they were welcome any time! So they will absolutely be able to walk over after school, if not this school year, then the next. This was an eventful week for the girls--between the two of them, they had three standardized tests, and got report cards today. Luckily, this meant that homework was lighter than usual this week, which did make things easier. In addition to letting me know that the girls would be welcome at the Press--which is actually open to the public, though this is little known--the many mini-conversations (and some not so mini!) that I had this week with the same colleague and others let me know that my arrival has been eagerly anticipated, and not simply as an extra hand. People do seem to know things about me--so I did have two opportunities to explain the premise of my upcoming Mythlore article! I was urged during one of these conversations not to linger in my office all day--to get out for lunch, in particular, though some people do lunch in their offices. I walked to meet my husband on Tuesday and we had a picnic on campus; on Wednesday there was a Pokémon Go event. I explained this to my new colleague as he popped in to tell me that he attends the noon service at the Episcopal Church across the street. This lead to a conversation about games and gaming. I suspect that he will try out Pokémon Go at some point. There is another employee in the building who plays casually--but whose parents are constant Pokémon Go-buddies, which is kind of hilarious. Today, I talked a bit with their son, and when I described them as more serious players than we are, he said, "Yeah. They have a problem." He's clearly as deadpan as his dad, or close. (They are pretty rabid players, but they're really nice about it. Good people.) 

Thursday, I had the doctor's appointment, which went well, and I deferred starting a new medicine by a bit. I actually seem to have left over sick leave from either my previous position, in which I was not authorized to use it, or the one before, though I meant to donate it to the sick leave pool Either way, it is handy because I can use it immediately if the need arises. So I went to the doctor's, and on my lunch break I picked up my parking permit and went home with my husband so that he could change for an event that he hadn't planned on attending (until a potential donor was identified--falsely, as it turns out), but that some people from the Press were attending, so I heard of it that way. I actually helped coordinate a meeting between a member of Marketing and my husband to investigate the contents of some boxes of books left by the Press at Cushing Library. This lead to another informal conversation, and getting to know another colleague who also happens to be somewhat of a Tolkien fan!

You may wonder whether I did any actual work this week. I'm still trying to figure that out, really--but I think I got a bit closer to working, if nothing else. On Tuesday, I was told that I could start checking permissions on some of the projects that will be published in Fall 2019, not to acquire the permissions myself, but to see whether the author had done so. I was shown some spreadsheets and how to get into the project folders, and told that another editor might have a template for entering the relevant information. That editor was out on Tuesday, and in training on Wednesday. Actually, for a period of time on Wednesday, I actually WAS the editorial department (and was told so before the other remaining member left). In the process of going through the list of projects in a spreadsheet, however, I was told by someone looking over my shoulder that the book I was working on didn't need permissions, so... yeah. I began to get the idea that I didn't exactly know all I needed to know. But I could start. Bit-by-bit, I have taken what I've learned about what information people need to do their jobs, and done my best to put it in an accessible format on my own. Thursday, I did, in fact, get the template, which was not Excel but Word (much to my chagrin) and relied on pulling images and information from the manuscript using macros. I confess that I don't even know what that means, but that wasn't really an issue. Rather, it was an issue that again I was told "oh, you don't need to be working on that," and redirected, but without a really accurate (as it turned out) picture of where to find the information I needed. Which was frustrating. 

I did realize that one of the problems was that I didn't know enough about what I was doing to even know what questions to ask. I didn't know what I didn't know. I found myself asking on Thursday what, precisely, the publication process looked like, and why, when in that process, and by whom all of the folders in the Share drive were created. By the end of Thursday, we were getting somewhere ,but I found myself very frustrated by mixed messages, lack of coordination, and the complete and utter failure of anyone to orient me to the job I was supposed to be doing. The person who has helped the most is the one who most recently vacated my current position. So I have decided to make some documents that I'm calling "Editorial Assistant Workflow"--to train the next Editorial Assistant. Or for reference. Whatever.

This brings us to today. Except actually, it doesn't. Because life still happens. And last night, life wanted to throw me a stupid curveball. The girls were on the verge of going to bed--literally saying goodnight--when my daughter (H) (prompted by big brother (P) told me that she had just found a bug in her hair by looking in the mirror in the bathroom. Oh. Dear. Lord. So I look at her, and--no, seriously--there is a bug *crawling in her hair.* Because that's totally what I need at 10:00 at night. I picked it out. It fell on the floor ad sort of ran around a bit while I took pictures of it. You know good and well what it was. So I kicked into extermination mode, combing through her hair and then second daughter (I)'s with the regulation comb while the "guys" (husband and son) bagged and vacuumed everything. After that, since brushes and barrettes needed to be sterilized and washed and bagged and whatnot, P and I went searching for a 24-hour store from which to procure brushes and combs and things. At 1 A.M. or so, I was finally ready to bathe. I'm not going to lie--I combed out my own hair, too. The plan was to call the local lice center for free head checks for everyone. Which I did.

Today began... well, abruptly, after too little sleep. We started the normal routine of dropping everyone off, and as soon as the clock rolled over to 8 A.M. I called the lice clinic (a nice place really, with nice people) and made an appointment. Then I went into work. I was sluggish. I had a headache that just kept getting worse and worse and worse. My stomach was acting up. But a colleague stopped by (the marketing person) to chat about meeting my husband the previous evening, and she said how we seemed like neat people. It's interesting to see people get to know us in our different capacities without "ranking" us one above the other, but perceiving us as complementary. This is new. And I like it. We talked about a range of things (including her Dr. Martens sandals and how I, too, favor "slightly subversive footwear in professional settings"--because I can get away with saying things like that here). Then, I went to ask our Finance and HR person about sick leave for lice clinic appointments--was that an appropriate use? And she was just great. She wanted to make sure that I didn't need anything or have any questions, and afterwards, since none of my own department were there, she took me around the building telling me a bit about everyone (more personal things, like where they were from and how long they had been with the press, and about any recent marriages and births) and giving me the opportunity to have more of those mini-conversations. It was really nice, and incredibly thoughtful. I can tell that people like me here. And there doesn't seem to be any petty competition. I'm not a threat to anyone. It's great. Unfortunately, my headache was getting worse and worse, and I'm afraid to take ibuprofen with the BP med. I sat in my office, and the heat was getting oppressive, and my stomach was queasy, and the pain was there, and I made the mistake of taking a sip of coffee... And I pretty much had to leave. At that point, another member of the Editorial department did show up, and I told her what was what (even about the lice), and I left for the day. At 10:20. :( So now I have to put in another sick leave request. 

What happened the rest of the day, you might ask? Well, I came home and changed into yoga pants and took a 1.5 hour nap. I woke less queasy, with headache, and needed to call the lice clinic to postpone the appointment at their request because they're swamped. Great, right? :/ My son (P) and I had lunch, then went to Target and bought, among other things, a slipcover for my sofa (the better to wash when needed). Then we returned home and cleaned and washed things (a work already in progress). So yeah... I didn't stay at work, but I vacuumed with a headache. Under furniture. Then we watched a Twilight Zone and I drank a favorite headache remedy: Blackberry Sage tea. That is about the time the headache started to subside, though it was already better than it had been when I left work--MUCH better. The girls came home; then two of us went in search of some supplies for a meatless supper of soup and grilled cheese (since I wasn't feeling seafood of any kind). We scarfed the meal down before heading to the lice clinic, where everyone was checked--AND EVERYONE WAS CLEAN. I have a picture. I did NOT invent that louse. I was stunned and relieved and stunned. Obviously I will keep watch, but in the meantime, we went to Freddy's (at P's suggestion) for some custard on him. And some people who didn't eat enough soup and sandwich before the lice check had some fish fillets. And here we are. I have literally spent the remainder of the night writing this! So... I guess so far so good? The finance/HR person says that my colleague the hiring manager "has big plans for me." I wonder what that means? I'm excited to find out. If I can get someone to show me the ropes.

Just a (Good) Day

Let me tell you about my day.

Today, we had plans.  Pokémon Go plans.  Today was Community Day, on which there are an increased number of spawns of the selected Pokémon of the day, with an increased chance of shiny versions (that is, color variations) of that Pokémon.  If this means nothing to you, don't worry.  What it mainly means is an excuse to get up, get dressed, get out of the house (apartment), and walk around somewhere for three hours, all in pursuit of a digital prize.  It's fun.

I woke up this morning and after lounging around in bed for a while, my husband and I decided it was actually time for the day to start.  This is a rare luxury, and a very nice one.  I started the coffee--Mystic Monk Pumpkin Spice, which is usually something he does, and decided to make something special for breakfast (again, he is often the one who makes breakfast, but not always).  So I made biscuits and omelets and we all went through our usual rituals for getting ready--showers, clothing, and the like.  I attended to some laundry.  Then we piled into the one of our two vehicles that is running well right now--5 people in a VW Golf--for our destination.

First, we decided to visit the small historic downtown of our twin cities.  We walked up one street, down another, and back, but had limited success with our goal, so we relocated to the large university campus, which is one of the "hubs" of game activity on these Community Days.  (People are very into it!)  We walked around for almost 2 hours, then piled back into the Golf for one of our last-chance Pokémon locations--our favorite regional grocery store.  The yield overall was satisfying.  Afterward, we returned home, dropped off our three children--who had homework, or in one case, just had enough of people for a while (introvert), and headed out again to pick up some pizza from the newest location of our favorite regional grocery store, which has some extra bells and whistles.

Although our younger daughter, the youngest of three, gave me kind of a mortified incredulous look when I called going to the grocery store a "hot date," we arrived in the time frame of a "Happy Hour" at the pizza counter:  with every $10 16" pizza, you had the option of having a draft beer.  So we did:  one Belgian white and one Kölsch.  While I chose the former and my husband the latter, we switched after tasting them both, and stood around rather decadently sipping our beers and waiting for our pizzas.

We returned home and ate; my husband washed dishes and I worked some more on clothes, washing a load, drying a load, and folding three or four loads (I'm pretty quick with the folding).  We then settled down on the sofa for a bit, rewatching some episodes of the show Lords and Ladles, which we all thoroughly enjoy, while the girls worked (sort of) on some homework.  After we had been sitting for a while, not quite dozing, I inquired about possible caffeination and my husband mentioned some work that he had to do--the first week's lesson(s) of a course on copyright.  So I made a proposition: Why didn't we go to Starbucks, and he could work on his course and I could work on the paper that I'm supposed to be revising?  With the blessing of our oldest, who told us (tongue-in-cheek)that he would be sure to text if he was going to bed before we got home, we did.

While Starbucks was too crowded for us to find a seat, we found plenty of room at a local sandwich-restaurant-and-bakery, and settled down to our respective tasks with some tea and coffee.  During one break (ostensibly getting sugar for my tea), I purchased two day-old Challah loaves and a pumpkin bread (even though mine is better), and was given a surprise pastry by the cashier because it was the end of the night (and brought it home to the kids!).

The beautiful thing? I finished comparing the old version and the shorter, revised version of the paper to make sure there was nothing I wanted to add back in (there area few things)--a task that, while not that daunting, had daunted me greatly.  In fact, I finished rather quickly and started reading an eBook--Tolkien and the Great War, which I had mainly mined for relevant data previously.

I have realized something about myself after trying to motivate and trick myself into getting back into research.  I am self-motivated to a degree, but in order to work on something regularly, long after the thrill of the idea has ceased to carry me forward, when all becomes drudgery and I'm feeling a little down on myself anyway because of this whole no-employment-so-why-am-I-being-scholarly-anyway thing, I need one of three things:  A HARD DEADLINE (soft ones don't work), A TANGIBLE MOTIVE, or company.  Annnnd... maybe a change of scenery.

So this might become a regular practice, at least for as long as his course lasts (so 8 or 9 weeks). Perhaps on Friday and Saturday, and maybe weekdays (all contingent on my son's work schedule), we may sneak away to do some scholarly activities.  It feels a little bit like when we were both in graduate school, and I like it a lot.  This feels important.  This feels significant.  It's not profound, but it is good.  It was a good day.  And sometimes, a simple, good day is good to write about.

A Shroomish Meandering

Last week I found myself consumed by mushrooms...

It started on Wednesday.  My daughter left her lanyard and I.D. at home, and rather than following my instincts and telling her in no uncertain terms that I was not going to go back to school to bring it to her (or because she left the car before I had a chance to say so), I modified my usual schedule to bring her her lanyard and I.D.  So instead of being at home, walking distance from our own neighborhood park (actually, no--it's a dog park and so draws people from everywhere), I was out and about, and chose to drive to a different, larger park that has an extensive track.  It was a cool morning, a result of the recent rains, so it didn't matter that we were a little bit later than our usual walking time.  As we moved from the part of the track that surrounds the sports fields to the part that is treed, my son pointed out an amazing crop of tall, brown-capped mushrooms.



There they were, at the base of one of the many trail-marking signs, blending in, though they stuck up above the mulch.  When viewed from a certain angle, they looked like a little village--albeit a village that had had some of its roofs lost to lightning.

This discovery lead to an odyssey.  The deeper we went into the forested area of the trail (really, the trees were quite thin, more like brush), the more mushrooms we found, and the greater variety.  Of course, I had to take pictures.  I also had to research them when we returned home so I now know--or think that I know--that these are Magpie Inkcap mushrooms, or Coprinopsis picacea.  I found a nice closeup, here.  It is so distinct, which is probably why it was the first I was able to positively identify.

One thing that I learned fairly quickly when looking at actual guides to mushrooms (books, not web sites), is that most books show one form of the mushroom, assuming that you will find the most mature or perfect form.  This is probably because of space limitations in printed books. It took me a while, therefore, to discover that when I looked at a field of these little inkcaps and saw what looked like little white conical mushrooms coexisting, these were actually an embryonic form of the very same mushroom!  This was pretty exciting.


Aren't these little guys cute?  Okay they're also rather phallic--but in a cute way.  (I'd say I needed a hobby, but then wouldn't mushroom-hunting seem obvious? And with that observation, is that really a good idea?)

Everywhere we looked, there seemed to be a different kind of mushrooms.  Again, I have learned since that they were often mushrooms of the same variety, but in different stages of their life-cycle.  And it doesn't matter at all that I was wrong, or that I have only been able to identify a few of them (I have some hunches about most, though).  I think I've even identified one edible species, though I'm not really a risk-taker where violent stomach illness is involved.  My interest is purely aesthetic. And curiosity.  I like to classify things.  In school, my main problem with science was that classifying things never seemed to be enough--I had to be making discoveries. Forming hypotheses.  I can discover things in literature.  I can create a good, argumentative thesis interpreting what I read, applying one idea to another, etc.  But the natural world is a bit beyond me there.  Discovery, yes.  Theory, no.

So here are my discoveries from Wednesday, in the order in which we encountered them on our walk.

Here is a type of Puffball mushroom (also here and here) that I have seen referred to as a Spiny Puffball, for obvious reasons.

I believe that these are Lepiota mushrooms, though they are in a more advanced state than most of the examples I could find:

Another Magpie Inkcap with a mushroom I haven't identified yet.  Another thing that seems clear from most guides is that they expect the mushroom hunter to be willing to dig up, examine, and dismantle the mushroom, and I was more interested in seeing them in their environment and observing their progress.

More Lepiota mushrooms, looking fresh and new:

The Puffball mushroom, or Clavatia, who looks a bit anthropomorphic to my eye:

Examples of the Clavatia (above) here and here, also.  I thought he might turn out to be a young version of another mushroom, but no!

The one below is a bit of a puzzle to me.  I want to identify it as a Japanese Umbrella Inky, but I think that is wrong.  I'm going to tentatively say Pleated Inkcap Mushrooms because of the, well, pleated cap.

Perhaps a very large and advanced Amanita, below.  This is an expansive family of mushrooms, including some of the most deadly as well as some edible.  The iconic red-capped mushroom with white spots is an Amanita.

These are my beautiful, perfect examples of Amanita mushrooms:

Except that it's entirely possible that the ones above are actually Chlorophyllum molybdites, which is the Lepiotaceae family (consulting a book now, Texas Mushrooms: A Field Guide).  One of the differences seems to be warts (Amanita) vs. scales (Lepiota). Still toxic, though.

This small, brownish cluster is the only type that I feel pretty certain is edible--that is, if they are Pear Puffball mushrooms, though Pear Puffballs seem to grow on wood, and these are in grass.  So maybe not.  But the color looks similar and they are growing in a cluster like Pear Puffballs do.  Anyway, they're some kind of Puffball! (Positive identification does really hinge on digging up and handling the specimen, and crucially, on checking the spore print.)

I suspect that this is a young version of some kind of Amanita, perhaps the ones above (the ones that might be Lepiotas...):

I wish I could find "common names" for them all, but no.  This wispy group (below) is called Coprinus disseminatus, but a common name for it might include "umbrella" and "inky" from the naming patterns I have seen.

This waxy-orange mushroom is similar to the one above, hanging out with the Magpie Inkcap:

This one has me stumped.  At a guess, right now, I would say that it's a Lactarius.  Maybe this Milkcap mushroom? (Unless it's an Amanita flavoconia. Or a Boletus.) But that's the best I can do! 

The next day, we went back to check on their progress, and to find a few more...

Children's/YA Dystopia vs. Classic Dystopia

The other night, a book made my daughter cry.

It wasn't even a particularly well-written book, though it's entertaining enough. I had read it, and when she was searching through the selection of dystopian novels that her 7th grade teacher had available, I told her it was pretty good, and that she could read it.  I recommended it over The Giver, which is a novel that I read some time after my son came home in 5th or 6th grade reporting that the book that his teacher was having the class read was "inappropriate."  I knew what he meant; I am pretty sure that my daughter would find it similarly inappropriate--even mortifying--if she read it.  But as it turns out, the two novels--Among the Hidden and The Giver--share a trait, even though one has become somewhat of a classic while the other never will.

That trait is emotional manipulation, and while I would argue that it is a trait of children's and young adult dystopian fiction, it is not a trait of adult dystopian fiction.  This is probably why it did not strike me that the novel would be problematic for her.  Not that crying is a problem, but crying because a character in a dystopian novel has died actually does strike me as a problem.  When she came to me for comfort because a character died whom she (along with the protagonist) had come to like, I said, "Well, that's a dystopian novel.  People die, and it is often for no reason.  Their deaths accomplish nothing, which is the point."  But then she reminded me that no, it wasn't like that in Fahrenheit 451, which she loved, that no, that's not actually a trait of dystopian literature...  for adults.

Dystopian novels, when written for adults, are novels of ideas.  We are presented with horrors, and asked to think about them rationally.  I don't count Lord of the Flies, which to me, is not actually a dystopian novel, as it does not depict a dystopia.  Strictly speaking, by this criteria, Animal Farm would also not be a dystopia.  Both novels tell us something about the part of human nature that allows oppressive societies to develop.  So perhaps they are novels of proto-dystopian landscapes.  Animal Farm and Lord of the Flies also allow readers to feel pity for characters--Boxer, Piggy--though this might be less pronounced in Lord of the Flies. The novels still do not court the reader's emotion. Certainly in 1984, Brave New World, Fahrenheit 451, and even The Handmaid's Tale, we are held at arm's length.  Even, I would propose, from the protagonist. We care about their fates, but we do not weep for them.  In the case of Brave New World, we may not even like any of them.  We can observe how society has altered the individual and make a judgment that is not influenced by emotion.  We are treated like adults.

In dystopian literature for children, which, for my purposes, is limited to the Shadow Children series by Margaret Peterson Haddix and The Giver by Lois Lowry, the reader is not treated as a primarily rational being. This might also be a trait of other dystopian children's fiction, where it exists.  The Hunger Games series is not really dystopian.  The focus is not on the workings of the society itself.  It is about human survival and endurance.  There is a totalitarian state.  It is not engineered into a restrictive society meant to preserve order and produce an ideal life by the restriction of rights.  Life is not uniform. In regional pockets, people live lives largely determined by their geography and its economic products, held by fear to the tyranny of the state, which reaps their raw materials as well as their children.  But the novels are truly about the beginning of the end of this system. The Divergent series is also not a dystopia.  Not really.  It is about an engineered society, and the focus is on individuality and non-conformity, but it doesn't really have the oomph of a dystopia.  It's teen drama.  By contrast, the Shadow Children series is about a society with rigid population control.  Third children are banned, purportedly because of a lack of resources.  The series begins with a third child who has been concealed for his entire life, yet manages to discover another like him.  It continues with the support structures that have developed to allow for the continued existence of third children.  An underground conspiracy or something.  (It's been a while.)  And The Giver is about a society that has managed to repress all unruly emotions by eliminating feeling (and other senses, like the ability to see color) and disrupting social structures (like biological families) that lead to unruly feelings, and so produce disorder.

The Giver is a wholly irrational book. From the beginning, it invites the reader to feel.  We are asked to feel even the faint arousal that accompanies bathing an elderly woman--which is likely what made my son feel that it was "inappropriate."  We are not only asked to feel, we are conditioned to believe that all feelings--especially sexual feelings, especially feelings that we are told by any institution (society, family, religion) are harmful or dangerous.  When I taught this book to college students, I was told in no uncertain terms that it was a favorite because it validated adolescent sexuality.  Not explicitly, but the students remembered getting that message from the book.  I heard some stories from students of friends who were sexually active, and the book gave them a framework to be able to deal with things they couldn't talk about at home.  The book is also emotionally manipulative.  It leads the reader through the trusting perspective of the protagonist, Jonas, to believe that the process of euthanizing the elderly and weak infants is "release"--that these individuals will literally go to a different, and better, physical place.  Now, perhaps the assumption is that the reader will perceive what the character does not, and some readers who are more worldly likely will.  But this depends on the age and circumstances in which the child encounters the book.  I believe that the revelation that "release" is actually killing relies for its impact on a naïve reader, and that the narrative does nothing short of emotionally manipulation.  Certainly, we are not asked to think.  We are asked to react. And from our emotional reactions, we are asked to draw conclusions and react against what would oppress our feelings--family, society, religion.  I asked that my son be allowed not to finish reading the book.  The book would have hurt him emotionally.  He had a new baby sister.  A sibling he had--without my knowledge--yearned for for years.  The justified killing--or attempted killing--of an infant was not something that he was emotionally ready for.  And the teacher was completely uncomfortable teaching the subject matter of the book, and did not plan to really go into the "issues."  So you see, this is why books are "challenged."  Because they are not necessarily appropriate to be taught to all readers in a classroom setting, particularly when the teacher is uncomfortable doing so.  He was in 5th grade (I'm pretty sure; an advanced class reading 6th grade books).  My daughter is in 7th--a world apart, really.  But her sensibilities would be completely offended by the bathing.  She takes issue with bikinis and topless men jogging--and that has nothing to do with anything she learned at home.

Among the Hidden is not as manipulative... until the end.  Until the protagonist's only friend--another third child--marches on the capital with other third children to force an acknowledgment of their existence, and is (presumably) annihilated.  I can't remember whether she resurfaces at some point.  Her father, unlike our protagonist's, is a powerful member of the government, and has greater ability to hide a third child.  Although she was similarly devastated when Hedwig died in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I was not prepared for my daughter's strong reaction to the ending.  I, frankly, did not remember the character's death. Perhaps because I thought her actions were foolish.  Perhaps because I am used to dystopian literature, in which death is frequently ignoble and ultimately pointless (that death is not supposed to be pointless is one of the things that makes the Divergent series not-quite-dystopian). But something about my attempt to explain this to my daughter in the context of Among the Hidden disturbed me.  Yes, death in dystopia does not accomplish anything.  It has no purpose.  But as adults, we are able to recognize that rationally.  We do not become caught up in emotion when John Savage's mother Linda dies in Brave New World.  What does this tell us about the assumptions within children's literature?

Both C. S. Lewis and Tolkien waxed poetic about what dragons and monsters accomplished in fiction. If a child is presented with a scary monster, she learns, when the monster is defeated, that it is possible to defeat monsters.  Tolkien shows us, quite clearly, that death can be meaningful, and noble--and he also shows us that it can represent the ultimate descent into despair.  But he shows both in the same work.  The kind of emotional journey represented by heroic fantasy offers the reader a glimpse of the greater accomplishments of the human spirit. This is actually a feature of The Hunger Games. Should there be an emotional journey in dystopian fiction?  When a writer trusts that the reader will understand--will get the essential message of the fiction, we do not find pathos used to drive the point. When the author does not trust that the reader will understand rationally, or will be interested in the message, we find rampant emotionalism.  I'm not sure it is appropriate to underscore the futility of existence in a particular model of society via emotional involvement.  Rather than depicting despair (as in the death of Denethor in The Lord of the Rings, a scene that the movie got horribly wrong), it produces despair, and if the book ends on that note, well....  My daughter does not want to read the next book in the series.

She did, however, read and enjoy Fahrenheit 451. When she was 11, in fact.  And she got it. And she is not alone in her peer group. Children can think rationally about society.  Increasingly, they are asked to do so in school--asked to make choices beyond their knowledge in every election year to practice "being involved."  So why is it that their literature does not trust them to do so?