Oh, hey, what's going on? Well, funny you ask! Monday was the inauguration of my solo blog, Combreviations. So, if you only read one blog, quit reading this one, jump ship, and clicky clicky over to Combreviations—I post three times a day, straight up fluff content. If you read more than one blog, you should probably add it to your rotation. Because... my posts cure cancer? And I'm a lady, and ladies are great. (Tempting though it may be, do not listen to Laura. Her posts neither cure cancer, nor are they as great as mine. – E)
Although we all know the lady-types are great at writing, sometimes we do not treat their writing as we should (shame on us). We patronize women by calling their work "chick lit," we say they write female poems, and we don't give them awards. Atone with this feminist reading list—find your feminine mystique.
A dyed-in-the-wool bra burner, who in no way encourages women to like stalkerish men, Stephanie Meyer will be appearing on Oprah, and has a biography coming out. She would probably disapprove of Cory Doctorow's response to parental outrage over teen sex (oh no!), since her universe has no teen sex.
A high school teacher who also believes in teen sex assigned a really sexual Palahniuk short story to his students and got in a ton of trouble. I, like Meyer, choose to believe that no teen has ever had sex, and will spend my time reading my Bible handwritten by 30,000 people or my Xbox Bible, depending on how I feel.
Please, stem your outrage (over teen sex, my mockery, or my Jesus joke—oh, wait, that was last week). Take deep, meditative breaths and remember that the inventor of the AK-47 originally wanted to be a poet. Yea, you thought you knew everything about poetry? I bet you can't even pass this poetry quiz (gauntlet: thrown!).
Fine, let's stray from the sex and guns and poetry. Here's the story behind Clifford the Big Red Dog, and you can generate your own children's book title, which may or may not involve animal noir.
If you're looking for gifts for your favorite Friday round up writing blogger (or your "friends and family"), you can always get these awesome bookends. Especially the Star Wars ones. Or you could buy this someone a copy of T-Rex's autobiography! You could order a Nook, but they're on back order, or you could get this old-fangled paper book about really ridiculous science flops.
I know, I know, the paper book. What a joke, my friends. Don't paper books know that the mall bookstore is dead? That the library is now a social scene, not for reading? That the 1768 Encyclopedia Britannica was totally inaccurate?
Sometimes life is hard. But, readers, life doesn't need to be hard for you. Because we can hang out every day, over at Combreviations. I know, I know—I'm excited too.