LAST AUCTION/SALE DAY
THIS IS YOUR LAST DAY. THIS IS YOUR LAST OPPORTUNITY TO BUY A BOOK OR BID ON SOMETHING IN THE BELL-FUND AUCTION/SALE.* The doodle option will stay up another week** but everything else shuts down tomorrow at 2 pm Chicago (Blogmom) time. Step right up, folks, step right up. The bearded lady and the sword-swallower right this way, just as soon as you give me all your money.
I’m uncommonly shattered for some reason. Maybe it was that invasion of berserker cauliflower last night . . . no, wait, I do know what it was: both hellhounds ate supper with almost no fuss whatsoever. What? Chaos has officially given up supper—he submitted the form a good fortnight ago but he’d filled it out wrong so I got to send it back—and Darkness only eats on the nights that having me pry his jaws open to get a remedy powder in is going to be just toooooo boring. You can almost see him considering it when I put the bowl of food in front of him. But I’d barely started my first game of Montezuma 2*** when . . . crunch crunch crunch. Crunch crunch. I had to put Pooka down in the middle of a game.† But the entire experience was such a shock to the system I had to lie down and read for a while.†† And then repelling the attack cauliflower took a while.††† And then there were the cats. And then it was dawn. And then the horrible man‡ across the road went to work.‡‡ The sound his frelling car makes on their gravel driveway is a lot like very large hellhounds eating supper. . . . Sorry, I’m raving.
So. I’ve been doodling. Some madwoman who wants to spread the joy‡‡‡ asked for a heap of sleeping puppies doodle for DEERSKIN. Glarg. I haven’t figured out how I’m going to simplify this into a standard doodle, but here’s a first trial run:
I was looking at Chaos and Darkness puppy photos and thinking Soooooo cute . . . . Soooooo glad it's over.
Someone else wants a spider in the corner of a window for SPINDLE’S END:
From a golden crown let your silk hang down. Er. Or a window frame.
I may have a go at the spider dangling from a sleeve—my doodle-orderer’s other suggestion—one of these days in my copious spare time, and find out if drawing Ikor’s shiny ribbony sleeve is rather satisfying in an OCD sort of way, as I suspect it may be.
. . . And the medium-large friendly squid wants not to be forgotten.
The 'Fido' is diamante, you understand. It's just a little small here.
Now go buy something. Please.
* * *
* And, guys . . . you’re seriously missing out not having a better run at TULKU, or CHUCK AND DANIELLE, or CLOCK MICE. I know this is my blog—and my bells—but I’m recommending them. Highly.
** I don’t know exactly when this will happen, but when Blogmom has recovered from doing all the making-it-work about the bell fund^ I’ve asked her if she can figure out a way to hang a more-or-less permanent^^ doodle-order window down the side of the blog somewhere. We’ll worry about what to do with the money if it turns out there is any.
^ I believe I heard something about ‘Caribbean cruise’.
^^ Or let’s call it indefinite, which is what my visa to stay in England says. Very unsettling, ‘indefinite’ rather than ‘permanent’. I’ll be good, officer! Really I will! —Er. I do get to complain, don’t I?
*** Sigh. You were right. Montezuma 2 is available for iPhone. Why it didn’t appear instantly and say Buy me! when I asked iTunes for it is one of those little mysteries, like why my audible downloads are so easily led astray by bad companions and are found days later in the wrong part of town with nothing left but a headache and a vague memory of something about Long Island Iced Tea^ and spandex.
^ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_Island_Iced_Tea
† There doesn’t seem to be a ‘cancel this game, hellhounds are eating’ option. Oh well, my player rating is always pathetic.
†† I don’t suppose any of you out there want to recommend an origami book? I dug out my ancient Dover reprint of beginner origami and ordered the FOR DUMMIES origami but neither of them is the least bit inspiring. I want something that makes me go ‘ooh’. I’m, you know, shallow.
††† It was a vengeance raid. I ate the emperor a few nights ago. Very tasty he was too.
‡ Actually he’s a very nice man. Except at 7 o’clock in the morning.
‡‡ Wait a minute. It’s Saturday. What was he doing going to work?^
^ Yes, I work seven days a week. I’m free lance. It’s the down side to being able to work in your dressing gown and not comb your hair. And stay up till dawn.
‡‡‡ Too late. I’ve been mad for years.
When There Are No Words There Are Still Doodles
You’ve still got a fortnight left to buy or bid on something! The New Arcadia Bell Restoration Fund auction/sale is live: http://robinmckinleysblog.com/bells/
. . . . Bluuuuuuh, continued. Service ring this morning was interesting. I was clinging fuzzily to the treble and then Niall called for frelling Cloisters. It’s not that it’s difficult—it isn’t—but it does require that the treble wake up and pay attention. Then I came home and drank tea till I was in danger of rattling off my chair. . . . I am going to my voice lesson tomorrow. I don’t know what I’ll do once I get there, but I am going. And, gods save both of us, I have an old friend I haven’t seen in over a decade passing through Mauncester on Tuesday. It would be nice to be speaking in complete sentences. I suppose I could just shove doodles at her. . . .
To all of those anxious people posting to the forum and writing me little apologetic emails: I am not keeping track. You won’t be drummed out of the forum if you don’t pony up for my bells. Bidding in the auction and/or buying a doodle or a book is supposed to be fun. It’s not required. Sure, I want to raise funds for my bells, but trust me, I know about being short of money. If your roof fell off last night, you can buy another shingle for the price of a doodle. I totally understand. Also, because I am me, I will probably totally screw something up during the auction/sale—there will be opportunity for any screw-ups or falling into technological chasms to be sorted out because there will be me to sort out. This is the good side of not being amazon, okay? Don’t worry. *
And now . . . how about an opportunity to win a doodled up book? All you have to do is spread the word.
Tweet it, Facebook it, blog it! Win a doodle-licious book!
Help us publicize Robin McKinley’s Sale and Auction in support of the New Arcadia Bell Restoration Fund! Tweet it, Facebook it and blog it and you will be entered in a random drawing for a signed and dedicated doodle-licious Robin McKinley book of your choice with five** doodles to be scattered through the text at the author’s discretion.
http://robinmckinleysblog.com/contest/
Handbell ringer having a Very Bad Day
Tower bell ringer having a Very Bad Day
Please note that this person, while unfortunate, will nonetheless be welcome back next week, because he*** is still following the Tower Bell Ringer’s First Rule which is never let go of the tail end.
* * *
* I love it. Me saying ‘don’t worry.’ hahahahahahahahahahaha
** Blogmom originally said ten doodles and I said GLEEEEEEP. Even the auctioned books only start at three. But you never know, I might be inspired.
*** I think both these victims of circumstance look rather he-ish. The main thing is that you can tell by the fact that their shoes have discernable heels on them and are therefore definitively not All Stars that neither of them is me.
It’s alive
Okay, here we go. Knock yourselves out. Please.
http://robinmckinleysblog.com/bells/
It runs from NOW till 2 pm Chicago USA time* Sunday, 9 October.**
* * *
* Because Blogmom is running the back end, and that’s her time zone
** Doodles may run longer. We’ll see how it goes.
In which the ME gets in the way of progress
Today has been a ratbag ME day wherein not all my complete sentences are compl. . . . And I find myself standing outside some door or other staring at my keys and wondering what the one thing has to do with the other thing.* And Mondays are voice lesson and ringing at one of Colin’s towers in the evening. Oh, and earning a living.
Remember first and foremost that as ME goes I have a mild case. But it is interesting the extent to which you can sometimes learn to manage your shortcomings. I was talking to Niall about this coming home from bell practise tonight—that first time I began learning method ringing I had to give it up when the ME felled me. I did have to give it up—I spent about eighteen months not able to do anything but lie on the sofa and watch BUFFY—but I remember the six months or so leading to that culminating takedown. There were a lot of days like today, where everything is foggy and slippery . . . but I had no idea how to cope. The only thing I knew how to do was fight back—which is the wrong answer. You have to learn to . . . slip and fog yourself. You don’t confront ME as an enemy—or as an equal; you’re not equals—it’s stronger than you are, which is your First Lesson. And I don’t, after all, find the enemy model all that useful; I know some people do. But the ME is part of me. As someone with a chronic, lifelong case of Low Self Esteem, self-hatred is a real and constant danger as well as an incredible waste of time and energy. Let’s not go there. So I don’t (mostly). I’m a 59-year-old female Caucasian mezzo-soprano bell-ringing rose-gardening storyteller with bad teeth, hellhounds and ME. Nu. Deal.**
In my experience you have to learn to slip and fog individually for each activity—and I’ve been ringing bells longer than I’ve been taking voice lessons, for all that bell ringing is a deeply alien activity for someone with my shape of brain*** and singing is pretty normal for almost everybody—and I’m on the right side of the line in that I can carry a tune.† Which is another way of saying that today’s voice lesson was not the most superb I’ve ever had, although some of that is the frelling Italian. Today was not a good day to be trying to sing in a foreign frelling language for the first time for Nadia.†† But I did come away with some new stuff written down in my notebook and a wary sense that it might some day be possible to remember that I’m only allowed five vowel sounds.†††
I came home and found an email from Niall wanting to know which house to pick me up from. Of course I went bell ringing. I clawed what neurons I could find out of the shadows, dusted them off, tied them up with twine, and went. And while I was about as reliable as a plastic tin-opener, we did ring Stedman and I did successfully ring several evil coathanger singles, and they’re becoming positively familiar, which means I’ve learnt how to slip and fog my way through Stedman (doubles), which is good. The shocker of the evening was the Cambridge—having been dragged by the hair through a plain course and preparing drearily to stand my bell, Colin kept us going through a second course which, after I had totally frelled the beginning because I was expecting to stop . . . was about as good as I’ve ever rung Cambridge at all. Which isn’t very good, but it’s nonetheless a testament to my increasing slip-and-fog skills.
I then came home again to a lot of questions about the auction from poor Blogmom, who is trying to make the practical end work . . . and the last neuron I had I blew on Cambridge. But I thought I could at least answer a few of your questions.
Maren wrote
| PamAdams wrote on Mon, 25 July 2011 12:15 |
| Have I missed something or is the auction not posted yet? |
Don’t worry! It’s not up yet, but Blogmom is feverishly working to get it ready.
She would be less feverish if I had given her everything she needed. But we are getting there. Truly.
I don’t think you’ll be able to miss it when it does go up, as I expect there will be a blog post or several with big pink text.
I think that’s a fair prognostication. . . .
Julia
. . . Robin has nearly 3,000 people who “like” her Facebook page, and more than 3,000 followers on Twitter. Even if there is a certain amount of overlap, that’s a great many people. Imagine if we all gave $5 to help save the bells. That’s a lot of money! Granted, it isn’t terribly likely that EVERYONE from FB/Twitter would give. But if even half that number did- 3,000 people times $5 each is 15,000! I know that I could manage $5 for sure!
Remember the doodles. There will be $5 and $10 doodles. You aren’t expected to throw money at me! I will throw doodles back! And, since you mention it . . . $15,000 would do nicely, thank you. . . .
rhymeswithcarrot
. . . I will bid as much as my graduate student budget allows! . . . I’m also eyeing a copy of Knot in the Grain (if Knot in the Grain is on the list…I can’t remember) and a foogit doodle. Yay, foogits!
KNOT wasn’t in the original list because I . . . forgot. But it was in the list by the time (blushing slightly) I read this comment. And a foogit doodle is entirely possible.
glanalaw
. . . I’d pay at least $10 extra for an autograph . . . And I would go for a doodle as well. I’m on one of those exceedingly strict student budgets but I’d be willing to go without a lot to support you and the bells. (Heck, I’d go without tea for a while if necessary. And tea is one of the essentials of life.)
No, no! You mustn’t try to go without tea! That would be dangerous! [says the tea addict, trembling at the thought]. Present plan is that all McKinley hardbacks in print will be available, although that rhythmic thumping noise you hear is Blogmom and I beating our respective heads against our respective walls as I change my mind again.
Rain.drop 7
I would ABSOLUTELY pay a premium for a signed copy of Sunshine! . . . I was worried all I would be able to afford was a doodle (Not that there is ANYTHING wrong with your doodles, I will still be buying one either way I am quite sure). This is a great idea, especially for those of us across oceans who can’t attend book signings. PLEASE do this! Think of the bells.
I am thinking of the bells. No, don’t worry, the signed-with-doodle books are now firmly on the list. Details to come. As soon as I figure out what they are and Blogmom has patiently explained to me (again) that they’re hopelessly unwieldy and I have to think of something else (again).
danceswithpahis
So are the doodles going to be auctioned, or will they have set prices?
Set prices. Doodles ($5 and $10) and signed-with-doodle hardbacks (probably $35 for any/all) are for those of you who don’t want to get into the auction thing.
boddhi_d
You could do the doodle on bookplates (or bookplate-sized paper); Jan Brett does this to good effect, autographing bookplates.
Jan Mark is a proper artist. I’m a writer who doodles. My doodles are just a value-added joke to give this charity gig some . . . er . . . fizz.
amyrose
Thank you for considering autographed books with a doodle! I would definitely like one, and would have a hard time not being greedy and going for two. And a separate bat doodle, of course.
Excellent. Very excellent. I like greed in a contributor. Have several doodles while you’re at it.
Susan in Melbourne
In the Project Management world that I inhabit we refer to the concept of ‘scope creep’ when people have lots of good new ideas, usually long after the budget has been established.
This made me laugh and laugh. Scope creep indeed. That’s exactly what’s been going on, and why it’s taking Blogmom so long to get the back end built . . . and why we are not taking any more ideas, new or creepy . . . I’m creepy enough without help. But it’s also why you’re going to have autographed and doodled flat-rate books as an option, so what a good thing someone spoke up before the portcullis crashed down.
And . . . thanks. Thanks very much. I’ll thank you even more when it’s all over . . .
* * *
* Or just now, when I filled the electric kettle with water and turned it on. I then went into one of my little dazes and came out the other side staring intently at the right rear burner on the cooker, listening to the water coming to a boil and wondering what the significance^ of boiling water plus back burner might be. Unh. Well, on the days I have a brain, I put my teapot on that burner, fill it up with peppermint leaves and hot water, and put a tea cozy over it. On days I don’t have a brain, I stand there staring.
Days like this I’m afraid I’ll forget to feed the hellhounds. They’d probably be delighted.
^ ‘Significance’ is a very good word to remember on a day like today. It could easily have been the whatsit of boiling whatsit plus back whatsit.
** Sure. Puns intended.
*** Lots of fantasy. No maths.
† Mostly.
†† Che Faro—that hoary aria from Gluck’s Orfeo—doesn’t count. My Italian is no better in it, but all those funny syllables are familiar in this particular context and order.
††† And furthermore I have to choose the right one every time. Cheeeez. But I want to be able to sing in Italian. If I don’t get any farther into foreign repertoire I can live with that. But I want Italian.
Frell and broad beans
Frell and damnation, it’s already the middle of the night and I still have a blog post to yank out of aetherwhere. I’ve shipped off a lot of photos to Blogmom so that she can start creating the masterwork that will be this auction. I was just saying to her that I take some comfort in the thought that my bells will not need serious restoration work again for another century or two.
Meanwhile I’m very pleased that people on the forum are expressing interest and enthusiasm. I feel my neck is sticking out pretty far. I will be glad if this auction is a relative success not only for my bells’ sake but for mine, so I don’t look like an utter drooling prat. So thank you all once already, and please keep those bid-button-pressing fingers limber.
Gonetotervs: Another suggestion to raise money — if you still own the e-rights to any of your earliest short stories, put them individually on Amazon for $2.99 and see how many of us will buy them…..
Merrilee and I have a Cunning Plan—although probably not in time for the auction. Watch this space.
Texturedknitter: Lots of attractive things in your auction list. I’ve never cared about collecting autographs, but regret now that I didn’t get one at Balticon, lo those many *mumble* years ago.
Nothing to regret! I’m still writing my name on things! (I’ve still got the Balticon 1898 mug somewhere, holding pencils or paperclips or dragon baby teeth or rose petals or something. The date on it is a little startling, I agree.)
Also, maybe offer a little bat doodle thank you, alternate to the bells doodle thank you? I’m kind of unreasonably fond of the bats (distance helps with this, I expect).
I’m fond of the little frellers myself. I like hearing them enjoying themselves in the accommodations provided . . . just not so much at 5 a.m. I’m not quite sure how we’re going to arrange this, but doodle-buyers will be allowed some say in what the doodle will be. Certainly anything that appeared in last night’s extravaganza is fair game. Although doodles evolve, as anyone who doodles knows. Last night’s Hermione or spider or running hellhound may not be next week’s Hermione or spider or running hellhound. The map of Damar will probably stay fairly constant however.
librarykat: once things get going, I’ll see what I can bid on, or simply donate (depends on how crazy bidding gets)
Donations are good*—but you can at least buy a doodle! (Or three!) I’m hoping to offer both $5 and $10 doodles (there is also going to have to be some add-on for postage, but I haven’t faced this yet), but I’m dependent on what Blogmom tells me about the tactical technology of all this. I’m also hoping that there is some clever way I can say/offer that if any biddable item is particularly hot, if it’s something I’ve still got spare copies of, I’ll make available extra copies at top bid price.
Diane in MN: Which we are going to be expected to sell tickets to. We’ve already had one pep talk, not to say exhortation, from Vicky about this.
Oh gods. I spent four years in high school having to sell things as part of fund drives, and made a solemn vow that I would NEVER SELL ANYTHING AGAIN. Which has meant, on more than one occasion, buying a lot of raffle tickets that I wasn’t about to try to unload on my friends and acquaintances. You have my very sincere sympathy for this. Do you suppose Vicky would let you off if your auction brings in a pile of cash?
THIS IS EXACTLY THE PLAN. THIS. IS. THE. PLAN. I am totally hoping to lay a startling cheque in Vicky’s lap and add ‘and I’m not selling any frelling tickets.’ So, listen, everyone, not only are you contributing to the bell fund, you’re contributing to GETTING ME A REPRIEVE FROM TICKET SELLING. Going around confronting people with stuff you want them to buy is the worst. You know all those studies that say that public speaking is the majority number one fear? I can do public speaking. But selling things? The mere idea makes me feel slightly ill. Brrrrrrr. So, bid in the auction. Buy doodles. Please. I’ll stay up late drawing portraits of your Aunt Fanny and setting Chesterton’s Lepanto to music. Anything. Just don’t make me sell tickets.
CathyR: Can’t wait for the auction! *so excited* !!
This is the right attitude. We support and encourage this attitude.
AJLR: *sits poised on edge of computer chair, with finger flexed over the PayPal button*
Yes! Yes!
B_twin: I’m eyeing off that copy of ROWAN and SUNSHINE…
AJLR: OK, BIDDING WAR in prospect! And if R and I have to live on bread and dripping for a week in aid of Robin’s bells, well, I’m sure he won’t mind…
Someone married to a bellringer has to understand. (Please quote me.)
Glinda: I’d go for a bell doodle. Or a bat doodle. Or how about both together, for a bit more money?
This is the idea behind the $5 and $10 options. Or two doodles.
Black Bear: Hey all, eyes off that copy of Rowan!!!
AJLR: Gonna make me, huh, huh?
*squares up to Black Bear*
Umm . . . ROWAN is one of the ones I have extra copies of . . . ::whistles nonchalantly::
Amyrose: What about just selling autographed copies of various books? I would gladly pay $10-$20 in addition to the price of the book, especially since it’s for such a good cause.
I’d consider this. Anyone else out there interested?
Of course, then who would ship them out? And who would order the necessary books? I suppose that would be a logistics nightmare.
Well, me. That’s who’s doing all the grunt work anyway.** But I wouldn’t expect the demand to be all that overwhelming. Famous last words, I suppose.
But – *wistfully* – it would be nice to get a copy of Spindle’s End with a signature. And maybe a doodle of a spider… or a fox..
I could do that. Oh, fox! I could do a fox.
PamAdams: I would certainly buy a doodle or maybe two. (Plus I’m hoping for some Peter books–any chance for King and Joker or Skeleton-in-Waiting?)
Another thing about an auction list is you probably can’t let it get too long and overwhelming or people will take one look and go back to reruns of THE WEST WING. Unless you’re Sotheby’s, which I am not. And I think KING and SKELETON don’t appear because we haven’t got spare copies. Peter had this appalling habit of giving ALL his copies away and neglecting to order more. And then the book goes OP and that’s that.
AnguaLupin: …Now I really have to find money in the budget to bid on the Serious Doodle.
Oh good. Yes please.
Mrs Redboots: Is there anything the Hellgoddess can’t do????
Write books that sell millions of copies. Knit like you can. Ring a touch of Stedman Triples. Ring even a plain frelling course of Cambridge minor in hand. Stop my roses from getting blackspot. Convince my hellhounds to eat every day. Sing like Beverly Sills/Marilyn Horne/Janet Baker/Joyce DiDonato/Bryn Terfel. Fly like a pegasus. End world hunger. . . .
I love the doodles!
Oh good. Thank you! Thank all of you!
Meanwhile . . . you won’t remember this, but a couple of months ago I made reference to a Secret Gardening Project. Look.
First fruits. Er, vegetables.
My very first edible crop . . . of anything but apples off my predecessor’s tree, and my little patio peach and nectarine trees (this year’s harvest are ripening nicely, thank you). Peter used to grow our vegetables but his back has not been cooperating this year with the basic gardening concept of lots of bending over. I saw a tray of six-inch broad-bean seedlings out in front of the florist’s and thought oh . . . feh . . . nothing ventured. And they take up a huge amount of room, demand to be watered all the time, and totally refuse to be staked in any way I understand staking*** . . . and then you get this weeny handful of pods after all that, which are mostly pod.†
Mostly pod. Sigh.
But then you bite into a broad bean that was still on the plant an hour ago and you say ‘oh. Wow. Yes. This is why.’ So I probably will do it again next year. Maybe I’ll try a few more plants. Maybe . . .
* * *
* I’m also thinking that after all of this I will have to figure out how to get a recording of us ringing our newly cleaned, pressed and mended bells. I’m the one going CLANK.
** And Fiona, of course.
*** Note to self: broad beans are not dahlias.
† I should get about this much again, I think, unless the next lot of pods decide they’re not having a good time and decamp to the Bahamas.