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We were pleased to capture the attention of the folks at Bibliodrome, a blog devoted to writing about the best of the small press world. Which is why we blush to be included. Today’s post was a review of Nasty Chipmunk, which includes some rather flattering comparisons. They also took this lovely photo of the cover.
Thank you, people of Bibliodrome. In your honor, we have decided to discount Nasty Chipmunk through the weekend. Another liability in the saga of our too-busy creative lives has been Homer Was an Epic Poet, the most recent volume in the Idiots’Books series, which was released more than a month ago but was not posted to our site until late last week. Here is sullen, brooding Homer in his beret, as illustrated by Robbi.
As you probably guessed, this book isn’t really about Homer. It’s about language and history and about how we wonder about the past, even when it won’t do a bit of good. Poor Homer gets some rough treatment in our book. Some liberties are taken with the facts of his life. He probably never went to a keg party, for example. He probably never rode on a surfboard.
But he gets some love as well. He gets some well-deserved props. If you are interested and missed it the first time, here’s a post about the process of making Homer, which we bound by hand. Those of you who have written asking how to get your hands on a copy may do so now. If you are a subscriber, don’t forget to enter your promo code for the subscriber discount. If you have forgotten your promo code, just write me an email. For those of you who want to see what the critics have to say before forking over your hard-earned cash, here is a review on our friend (and subscriber) Don’s blog. Thanks, Don. You subscribers will have the pleasure of reading two fine critical essays on Homer, which will be sent when Volume 30 goes out in a few weeks. Apparently, in Robbi’s world, this qualifies as lunch:
That’s pickle slices on cheese slices on saltines. With a banana on the side. I suppose I should be thankful that she is not more discerning. The weather has been crazy here. I know it’s been much crazier and more tragic elsewhere, but this morning has been a roller coaster of rain, thunder, lightning, a little bit of sun, rain, RAIN!, etc. I looked out the window and it looked like the deluge was upon us.
According to my calculations, though, we still have about a month to go before the End of Days. But try telling that to Kato. He’s convinced this is it, and he’s cashed in his 401K and is moving to Florida to retire.
I’m sure he’ll be a big hit with the blue hairs. Nothing pains Robbi more than saying she’ll do something and then failing to follow through. She is a woman of principle. It’s one of the things I like best about her. So it pained her considerably when I suggested that we reconsider our approach to the Daily Affirmations for Realists project. “What if,” I suggested, “we stretch things out a bit, publishing Affirmations on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday instead of each and every day?” The each and every day approach is proving untenable. If we did nothing but make Affirmations, we would be fine. Life would look like this: rise, eat, write affirmation, loaf, eat, draw affirmation, loaf, eat, post affirmation, loaf, sleep. Repeat. But, for better or for worse, we are also running a small press, doing freelance work, trying to write books for our agent to sell, working a half-time job, and raising two small children—all of which we enjoy, but all of which interfere with our best attempts to live the idea life of Affirmation-punctuated loafing. We are also up to our elbows in an exciting top secret new project that we are not quite ready to reveal to you but will as soon as we are convinced that we can pull it off. Ratcheting back the Affirmations to three days a week will help considerably in our efforts to pull it off. Stay tuned. If one is to look for a silver lining, it is that, under the new schedule, the remainder of the Affirmations (we’ve so far completed 71 of 365) will take the better part of two years to publish, so even though you’ll be getting fewer Affirmation on a weekly basis, you will be able to enjoy them for a longer stretch of time. Does this sound like postrationalization? Probably. We are big fans of postrationalization. It is humbling to have to admit defeat, but also good to know that we have the option of reversing course when need be. Complaints may be send directly to Robbi via email, with the subject line, “Robbi, You Unprincipled Lout,” but only if you want to make her cry. So that’s it. Our mea culpa. Check back tomorrow for the next Affirmation. To ease the pain that is surely gnawing an Affirmation-sized ulcer in your soul, here is a photo of a small child sliding backwards down a tube.
Easter started with the Behr-Swanson equivalent to breakfast in bed. It’s called, “breakfast on the table.” We consider it a real luxury around here.
Kato did a reading from the Behr/Swanson hymnal.
It’s a singing birthday card Alden got from Uncle “Rob” and Aunt Tracy that sings “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” from Toy Story. It has been so well-read in the past month that it now sings at 33 1/3 rpm instead of 78. In spite of this, it never ceases to get some good “hallelujah!”s from the crowd. Iggy did her best to try to horn in on the good will of this day, but it turned out this particular loaf was only able to feed the human multitudes.
Next up was dressing in our Sunday best (Matthew really wanted an excuse to put Alden in a dress and Kato in a tie) and running at full speed to the Easter Egg Hunt that Uncle D and Annie had planned.
The Easter Bunny has clearly been eating his Wheaties.
Though Kato quickly caught on to the concept, he wasn’t quite sure of the point. He was a good sport about it, anyway.
Uncle D helped Alden scout out locations when she needed help.
She took his advice with the appropriate caution (Uncle D is a wild man).
The Easter Duck kept a close eye on the proceedings, making sure that none of us accidentally mistook some of his eggs for those of the Easter Bunny.
Once the eggs were all found, there was time for some bubble chasing.
But the running around in all the finery under the first blazing sun we’ve seen in a while got pretty toasty. Down to the skivvies it was.
Note: Do not be misled by Alden’s days-of-the-week undies. She would have been wearing her “Sundays” if we hadn’t lost Sunday through Friday somewhere between the laundry basket, the washer, the dryer, and the trip back upstairs. Don’t ask how that happens. Kid undies are as bad as socks. When blood sugar levels were low, Alden finally revealed to Kato the true meaning of Easter. And he said, “Ah. Now I get the point.”
And, of course, Matthew couldn’t resist the urge to make like a bunny.
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