Monday, September 19, 2011

Obituary: Felicity HufflePuff Hedgehog, 2007-2011

Felicity HufflePuff Hedgehog, widely known by her stage name, Felicity Hogg, died suddenly, at home, in her cage, on Friday, September 16th, 2011.

Born on the Winter Solstice in 2007, Felicity was the star of "Hello, Hedgehogs!", a storytelling extravaganza, accompanied by her human associate, Ellie Shinham, and Pinkie Moon, her cage companion.

Particularly beloved of children, Felicity would not exit a classroom until she had visited with every single student. In all her long and illustrious career as an entertainer, Felicity bit only one child. And it must be said that that little one's hands were sweaty.

Felicity will be greatly missed. "Hello, Hedgehogs!" is currently in hiatus while Pinkie Moon is training to take over Felicity's role. Pinkie has demanded a new contract involving vast quantities of mealworms. This developing story will be watched closely.

Rest in Peace, Felicity HufflePuff Hedgehog. May you cross the Rainbow Bridge to a place of abundant hiding spots, endless food, and new things to sniff, where no one ever bathes you or clips your nails.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Wow, it's been a long time since the Summit!

But it was WONDERFUL. Especially for a first time event. Baba Jamal wowed us. Our workshop leaders & thesis presenters enlightened us. Our story swap had a beautiful energy. It was all topped off by a swinging concert in the evening, and I promise to write more about it. As for now, just know that the Summit had nearly everyone's:

Friday, April 1, 2011

Maryland Storytelling Summit registration is open!


Yay! I've learned how to use  Constant Contact Events registration. Please plan on coming if you are in the MD/PA/DE/VA/WV/DC area. Here is the link to register:
http://events.constantcontact.com/register/event?llr=sca6z7eab&oeidk=a07e3n5xy6y88175aad

We'll have a Keynote, a welcome activity, presentations on Past, Present & Future by key storytelling organizations, a networking lunch, excellent workshops, story swaps, and an Evening Olio featuring Maryland tellers. 35 bucks gets you admitted to all of the events, continental breakfast, lunch, snacks & drinks.

We're in the process of selecting the workshops & the keynote speaker right now. Blog readers will be the first to know our picks!

Register early & often.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Modern Fairies, Dwarves, Gobins & Other Nasties: A Practical Guide by Miss Edythe McFate


Miss Edythe McFate, fairy observer in NYC, recounts tales & helpful information to Lesley M. M. Blume in Modern Fairies, Dwarves, Goblins & Other Nasties, published by Alfred Knopf, 2010. Miss McFate wants the reader to know that fairies are not just sweet little tinklers, and currently they live in the pockets & pathways of New York City.

While certain stories & zingers do leap out from this collection, my overall reaction was, “Huh. Fairly fun. Certainly makes sense that there are stinky goblins underneath the Lincoln Tunnel.”

McFate/Blume turn a nice phrase here & there, as in this line, “Progress is a hungry thing, and eventually it hunts down even the most resistant holdouts.” (p.24) And this note for gardeners: “Take ten little rocks and make a circle near the garden’s entrance, or on its left side if the garden has no gate. This is a universal sign to fairies that they can help themselves to growing vegetables and flowers.” You will be rewarded with luscious produce, and fairies love scarecrows as they find them hilarious.

The actual tales that stick are “Behind the Brass Doors in the Lincoln Tunnel,” the booger flicking goblin one, and “The Ballad of Big Edd,” about a Lorelei. There are appallingly mannered goblins harvesting rubies under the Lincoln Tunnel. It does not behoove you to steal from them, as the child protagonist finds out.  This piece is highly tellable, as long as you don’t mind the bodily functions: “the third man added to the conversation by bending over and letting out a great crackling fart. The discussion got louder and so did all of the accompanying noises until there was a symphony of grunts, burps, and well, you know.” (p. 77)

 I loved the Lorelei piece. I fell for the general soppiness of the mermaid, which lulled me into a false sense of security. Admittedly, I have a bit of a Mermaid Thing. The Lorelei story embodies McFate/Blume’s typical structure: build up the character of the child, then the character of the fairy entity the child will encounter, and then bring it to a sharp climax and cut it off. Before & after each tale come the little information sections: I especially liked hearing that the graying of my hair has a fey cause. Extremely tiny fairies depend on sucking pigment from individual human hairs to keep themselves in the pink. Makes sense. Hairy fairies!

The illustrations, by David Foote, offer more when they are delineating places or things, rather than people or fairy entities. They are inky black & white, and strewn throughout the text enough to keep, say, an accomplished 4th grade reader chugging along. The humor and vocabulary of the text makes it a good fit for any reader interested in fantasy, from around 9-10 years old to so-called adults.

The more I write about it, the more I like it. The text as a whole kind of steals into your consciousness. Well done you, Miss Edythe McFate!

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sharing the Fire

This past weekend I attended Sharing the Fire, the New England storytelling conference sponsored by LANES. (League for the Advancement of New England Storytelling, I am thinking. :)
Wow, what a warm, welcoming fire it was! I came home with a Thunder Tube, a bit of fairy gold from Tony Toledo, and a whirl of new stories. I finally got to meet Marni Gillard in the physical realm, instead of on the page or in cyberspace.

Here are just a few highlights:
Watching the rough-cut documentary about Brother Blue, tears streaming down my face. How can I feel so connected to a man I never met in the flesh?  Maybe it’s because when I was transitioning from academia back into telling, Blue was starting his transition to another dimension?

John Porcino: His workshop for telling to little little ones was inspiring. I will master the Shy Little Mouse bit.

Jane Stenson: Puppets! Her sweet school set-up! Such a wealth of knowledge.

Diane Edgecomb:  Specific, fun things to do to train & preserve the voice.

Doug Lipman: I just like to listen to the man. He gives such cogent, sound, sensible advice, illustrated by stories from his own professional experiences.

Rona Leventhal & Emily Chasse: My charming roommates and new friends. I will only room with unknown quantities if said quantities are storytellers! All others are suspect.

Tellers & teachers, if you haven’t been to Sharing the Fire, pencil it in right now. Albany, NY, for 2012.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Maryland Storytelling Summit


The Maryland Storytelling Summit is a go!
Saturday, June 25th
General Meeting: 10AM - noon
Lunch: noon - 1PM
Workshops: 1:30PM - 3:30PM
Maryland Tellers' Olio: 7 - 9PM
All events at Towson University in Towson, Maryland: Thanks, Tigers!

Please save the date; it's gonna be great.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Tiger Mom: Lulu in the Cold

Amy Chua, author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, should have learned her lesson when Lulu was three, and then she could have shocked the world with an article, rather than a really uneven book. It boils down to this: Will you hurt your child to get her to do what you want?

Chua decided to give Lulu her first piano lesson when she was three. Lulu, as pre-schoolers are wont to do, wanted to bang on the piano in joyous fashion. Chua wanted Lulu to play middle C nicely & evenly three times in a row. Lulu really didn't want to. It escalated to Lulu throwing a full-on kicking screaming tantrum, so Chua deposited Lulu on the front stoop, in freezing weather, in her street clothes, and told her she had to stay outside until she was ready to play properly. Lulu took the challenge, refused to come back inside, and prepared to freeze. Chua caved, offered hot chocolate, brownies, and recognized the Ghost of Child Protective Services looming over her shoulder. And Amy Chua didn't learn a thing from this, other than that she wouldn't physically abuse her child. Verbal and emotional abuse were still on the table! That, and enough money on lessons and private coaching to endow a small college were what Chua "used" to craft her SuperKids.

Please don't buy her book. In my two blog posts, you've got the essence. Here's a link to an interview about another similar, but more loving way to grow some high achievers: Battle Hymn of the ...Lioness Mom?

Next post will be The Tigger Mom!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother


Amy Chua, the 'Tiger Mother' author, is everywhere these days. It seems as if most people responding to her  read only the Wall Street Journal excerpt from her book, and even then they get some of the details wrong. After dipping into the buzz both for/against/alongside of Chua, I decided to pony up the $12.99 for the e-book, and see what she says in something greater than a snippet. To be fair, the WSJ piece is a cobbling together of her more extreme generalizations.

Chua gives more context in her book, but she didn't provide enough, or come to any conclusion about Western vs.Chinese parenting at the end. For all her protests that she drafted & drafted, maybe a little more thought and writing was necessary? Or she could have just learned from 'that time she put 3 year-old Lulu out in the cold because she wouldn't play piano properly' and been done with it.

I learned a few things from Battle Hymn. I didn't really get the visceral hatred that some Americans have for the East Coast well-educated elite until I analyzed my reactions to the book. Chua, a Yale law professor, brought it home to me in this passage, early on in the text:

[Lulu] didn't like the infant formula I fed her, and she was so outraged by the soy milk alternative suggested by our pediatrician that she went on a hunger strike. But unlike Mahatma Gandhi, who was selfless and meditative while he starved himself, Lulu had colic and screamed and clawed violently for hours every night. Jed and I were in ear-plugs and tearing our hair out when fortunately our Chinese nanny Grace came to the rescue. She prepared a silken tofu braised in a light abalone and shiitake sauce with a cilantro garnish, which Lulu ended up quite liking. (Locations 151-55: sorry no page numbers; I read it on an Kindle.)


I'm trying to think through exactly why this particular passage made me want to slap her. Here's what I came up with:
  • She had a nanny. I'm assuming for a substantial amount of the day. A motivated nanny who could make a troubling situation better. Grrr...I am so envious.
  • She wasn't breastfeeding, for which there is tons of proof as superior nutrition for your little ones. Parenting fail, Chua. You wanna tell me how to raise my children? Why didn't you breastfeed? Huh? Nanny, huh? You sound pretty damn wimpy to me.
  • She already seems a little resentful of Lulu & her fussiness.
  •  Ah-ha. She's trying to be funny! In that way that professors have that isn't really funny to others, it's funny to them!  One can't actually feed that combo to an infant, and tofu is made of soy, and few newborns act like Gandhi. Slightly funny, after one thinks the whole convoluted thing through. Funny in the 'heh' variety. And the whole text never really approaches being more than 'heh', because her deeply extreme earnestness in 'this is the one true way to raise a child' is always present.
I thought Chua was an entitled, spoiled, rich twit. I didn't quite hate her, but as someone who worked & went to school & ran a 2 child household with (some wonderful, some NOT) daycare providers to help me, the resentment just rises up. This feeling lasted for a little while, but by the end, I just felt sorry for her. Chua is a woman who has it all. Really. And she still felt the need to drive her younger daughter to the point of ruining her relationship with her. Let's hope that writing the book acts as therapy for Chua, and that she gets some of the real thing.

In my next post, the story of Lulu in the Cold. Also, why I am a Tigger Mother, not a Tiger Mother.