Molly Madness

Yesterday we went to the vet with our beloved munchkin Molly who I don’t mention enough actually. As most of you already know, she has a heart murmur and has been taking medication since March after she had two minor “attacks” where she momentarily lost all motion in her back legs. Every six months we have to go for a check-up and once a year she has to have a sonogram of her heart. Now, since she has been on her meds she has been more mischievous, playful and loving than ever so good news all round. The only downside is that I have to give her her meds every night around the same time (too much time between meds and she could have a heart attack) and to do so, I also have to feed her by hand which I actually love doing. I know some people think I’m crazy or that it’s disgusting but it’s actually a perfect peaceful moment. Plus she’s my baby, enough said.

During the check-up, which is usually an incredibly stressful event for both me and my fuzzy stalker, she was shedding like usual and sweating like a piglet (trust me, it’s adorable). Then the vet told us she was also the carrier of a chronic virus which makes her eyes tear up, makes her sneeze and ultimately results in pulmonary issues. To us it may sound like a common cold but for Molly it meant red alert. She wasn’t sick or anything but her glands were swollen so something was about to break through. Needles to say a virus is the last thing a spoilt rotten kitty with a bad heart needs. So now I have to keep her warm at all times, makes sure she doesn’t catch a cold (aka her death) and make sure her immune system keeps on going full speed ahead. Luckily, she is blissfully unaware and spends her days purring on my lap, walking over the keyboard whenever she feels neglected for five seconds, being handfed, chasing imaginary ghosts, hiding q-tips and finishes off her days by crawling into bed every night with her minions.

I got slightly off track here. In order to boost her immune system I now have to give her Echinacea drops: 0,3ml twice a day. I can’t put it in her water because she won’t get her recommended dose and seeing as she only eats dry food, I can’t mix it up with that. Or can I? The Echinacea smells pretty bad so she can smell me coming with the stuff a mile away so now I, bare with me, put some drops on kitty treats and let them absorb the liquid. When they’re dry, I mix them with her regular food and meds, sit down next to her and place them one by one on her tongue. I know what you’re thinking but come on, isn’t she the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?

Thursday's trailer

Reading & Writing

Although I occasionally delve into the treacherous realms of non-fiction, I have to admit that overall I prefer to stay clear of the genre. Sure, I like reading about other people’s projects and experiments and I love the odd literary biography but that’s as far as it goes. Reading to me consists of fiction, nothing more, nothing less. Whenever people start adding politics, religion and philosophy to the mix, I cringe and start having flashbacks of the courses I used to flunk.

My idea of reading is that it should be fun, entertaining and (thought-provoking) escapism. I adore quirky characters, engrossing storylines and a fresh original voice that takes me to unchartered corners of my imagination. If I have to chose between an author who alters reality to give his or her own twist to the tale and someone who chooses to stay as close to everyday life as possible, then I clearly won’t be opting for the latter.

In a nutshell, the non-fiction I do read is either voyeuristic entertainment or inspirational and I’m currently reading the latter, hoping it’ll get my own fictional juices flowing again: Het Geheim van de Schrijver (Renate Dorrestein) and Maps & Legends (Michael Chabon). Both books focus on the life of the author and include useful tips and tasty anecdotes about their passions and experiences. Especially Chabon’s book (which I still have to read) looks very promising as it’s less of an how to book and more of a why to book aka just what I need.

In the meantime I’m focusing on my duties as a journalist. After a quiet summer I’m back in business and in hot pursuit of a man who doesn’t want to be caught on tape. Ah, the joys of journalism, it keeps life interesting. And things will get even more interesting when I finally get my own column. Counting the days…

The Help

After two weeks I finally finished The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It took me a while to get in to it and even then, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Reading all those rave reviews, made my expectations pretty high but in the end The Help was just your garden variety human interest story.

Jackson, Mississippi, 1962. Aibileen and Minny are two black women working as cooks and caretakers in white households. Enter Miss Skeeter, a white girl back from collage who wonders where her beloved maid Constantine went. During her quest to find out the truth, she delves into the lives of Constantine’s friends, the maids of Jackson, and decides to write a book about them so she can honor the woman who raised her.

The result is sentimental, predictable and so politically correct that it really annoyed me. Ok, it’s the USA, it’s the South and it’s 1962, racism was a part of life and it probably still is back there. It’s a common fact. Lots of rich white families depended on their domestic help for everything and would be literally helpless without them, which is another common fact that it frequently forgotten so yes, these men and women naturally deserve credit but Stockett’s novel is just another feeble attempt at fictional awareness, something to soothe the masses and middle-class moms.

What really bothered me wasn’t the fact that it’s moralizing and contrived but that so many people loved it or should I say, are supposed to love it because it reminds us of important (historic) issues that are smothered with “humanity”. Stockett, who is herself white, does her best to portray the thoughts and typically “black” vernacular of these women but sadly, her efforts lack any conviction and leave me with a rather artificial and predominantly American aftertaste. The Help is patronizing and predictable, the perfect fodder for people who love sentimental, simple and PC BS.

Thursday's trailer

Ghostwatch

October 31, 1992 BBC1 made history with its splendid horror mockumentary / TV movie Ghostwatch which is, in my opinion, still one of the scariest broadcasts to date (excluding Material Girl for slightly different reasons). I still have vivid memories of watching this together with my grandparents, or parts of it at least from behind a cushion.

Ghostwatch is a live documentary that attempts to uncover the truth behind “The most haunted house in Britain”. The BBC naturally sends its top investigators to the scene who expect a light-hearted scare or two and probably to uncover a hoax. The British public settles down and decides that this is going to be a bit of fun. But ninety minutes later, the BBC and the country had changed.

Using actual horrifying footage from the house, its unwanted guest and interviews with the family and neighbors, the BBC was able to convince 11.5 million viewers that not only do ghosts actually exist but that one of the nation’s most loved presenters (Sarah Green, who I worshipped every Saturday morning during Going Live) had met her untimely demise.

In a nutshell Britain was shocked, appalled and horrified and TV has never been this good since, until True Blood that is. Using very simple yet surprisingly realistic (for 1992’s standards at least) techniques, they were able to create a ghoulishly good atmosphere with one hell of a backstory and aided by tremendous supporting cast of BBC favs.

Even before The Blair Witch Project or Paranormal Activity, mockumentary filmmaking had reached an unequivocal high that was sadly missed by everyone outside of the UK who wasn’t coincidently watching at the time seeing as this broadcast was banned for almost ten years, proving once again that it shook Britain to the core.

It may seem a bit fake and contrived now, but the story is great and the ending still freaks me out after all those years. It’s just a shame that this highly controversial and groundbreaking TV classic should be forgotten. Luckily, there's always Google Video.

Meme time

Every week, thousands of memes are thrown into cyberspace and many of them end up in my RSS feed. I love reading them but I hardly ever participate seeing as they can be pretty time consuming. This week however, was Book Blogger Appreciation Week, so I’ll celebrate with the latest and greatest literary meme.

The book that’s been on your shelves the longest

It’s my mother’s copy of Winnie the Pooh from when she was little. It’s in Dutch but contains all the original (black and white) drawings. I remember my grandmother reading me the stories when I was little and it’s actually the only “literary” family heirloom that I’ve got. Sadly, the dust jacket is torn and the colors have faded but the interior still looks great considering it’s rambunctious past from 1969 onwards.

A book that reminds you of something specific in your life (a person, a place, a time)

Just one? The funny thing is that I can still recall exact time or place when I read a specific book. I actually have a frighteningly good memory when it comes to trivial details so here are a few:

The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger: I was waiting for my pumpkin to come home from his annual snowboarding trip in 2006. If it wasn't for this book I probably wouldn’t have been able to stay up all night and no other novel has had that effect on me since.

Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton: this reminds me of my first trip to Dublin in 2003 where a friend of mine was lecturing me in Easons on the utter brilliance of Botton, resulting in me purchasing this novel and embarking on an ongoing love – hate relationship with the man.

The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien: This beautifully illustrated edition was my best friend’s most prized possession and was handed down to me last year after she died. Although I’m not into Tolkien personally, I have to admit that it’s a gorgeous object that I’ll cherish forever.

A book you acquired in some interesting way

When I was working at Standaard Boekhandel over a year ago, I received an advance uncorrected proof of The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen so I could analyze its potential. Sadly, it’s still somewhere in my to be read pile but I love the fact that I have a copy that no one outside of the publishing industry has.

The book that’s been with you to the most places

Do notebooks count? Because that’s the only type of book that’s seen more places than my living room, bedroom and the inside of whatever mode of public transport I’m using at the time. I’m constantly jotting down ideas, making lists,…

The most recent addition to your shelves

Freedom by Jonathan Franzen, in theory because I still have to bring it home with me. Otherwise it’s my glorious True Blood box set.

Your current read, your last read and the book you’ll read next

The Help by Kathryn Stockett, The Wasp Factory by Iain Banks and Hard-boiled wonderland and the end of the world by Haruki Murakami (probably)