So there are some kids who you can just tell are going to grow up to become artists, because even when they’re little, they’re creating ridiculous good drawings and sketches. For instance, years ago, one of my wife’s 10-year-old students, upon learning that his teacher’s wife was a fellow Doctor Who fan, whipped up this little sketch of a Silent, a member of a group of alien religious fanatics who are one of the Eleventh Doctor’s main antagonists, whose primary ability is that nobody remembers a Silent after leaving his presence, but will still be compelled to act upon whatever instructions the Silent gave them:Continue reading “The Early Years: We’ll All Float On”
From the “Blatant Lies” department:
Looking for an inexpensive novel to read while we’re all under orders to stay home as much as possible? I’ve reduced the price to 99 cents on the ebook editions of all the novels that are currently under my control (all of them except Night Watchman*, whose publisher abruptly closed up shop last year — a fact I only learned about when I noticed it had disappeared from the Kindle store).
Me in the 1970s, dressed to the 9s. Or the 8s, or however old I was when it was taken:
You would totally buy a book with this photo on the back of the dust jacket, right? No? Is the unbuttoned jacket a bit much? How about this, then?
Oh yeah. Everyone loves a dimple and a little dot on the chin.
So this week I reached into the giant stack of old schoolwork and other papers that my parents sent me several years ago. This time I pulled out a contribution to that great American literary genre, the epistolary road trip memoir:
So in last week’s post, “Safe/Scary“, I dredged up an ancient kind of creepy-looking sort-of Venn diagram from elementary school from the pile of old papers my folks sent me years ago. This assignment was to list things that were “safe” on one side and “scary” on the other. One of my “scary” items was “Going to get stitches”. This prompted an email from my folks with a photo of my first “Going to get stitches” episode, in which I tripped and fell on my face on the sidewalk at my grandparents’ house:
It’s been a while since I reached into the giant stack of old schoolwork and other papers that my folks sent out to me a few years ago, so I thought it was time to do that again. And what did I fish out? This vaguely creepy little pseudo-Venn diagram: