The first movie I ever took my kids to:

Where the Wild Things Are.


This article and this quote:

Q: What do you say to parents who think the Wild Things film may be too scary?

Maurice Sendak: I would tell them to go to hell. That’s a question I will not tolerate.

My new author hero.

Then a commenter (on whichever blog linked it; I can’t remember) said, “Thank you for not contributing to the pussification of America.”

So…I took my kids.

3-almost-4-year-old XY TD was interested until his popcorn ran out and then it might as well have been church with better seats, for all the attention he paid. Besides, he is unscareable.

6-year-old XX TD seemed more engaged with the movie…until she lost one of her quarters. Oh the weeping. Over which I was unmoved because I TOLD her to put it in her pocket or she’d lose it. Ta da! Mama’s right again.

Me? I cried in spots. It’s a mom’s movie. Yeah, I’ve been that torn, that tired, that struggling, that scattered, that out of control.  So has my kid.

I got it.

I mean, I got what I could between trying to corral my own little Max and telling the Drama Princess to suck it up.

“Mormon” as its own genre

Well, so I’ve been through the whole “LDS fiction” genre discussion here and here and here.

But not here. I’m not late to the party, as I’ve been stewing about this for a while, but the LA Times article gave me something else to throw in the stew pot.

Richard Dutcher, the regrettably monikered “father of Mormon film,” has released his latest film, Falling, in a limited number of venues. As of last year, he also released the moniker and the church. In a statement made last year, he said he was “leaving Mormon moviemaking to the Mormons.” Which is sad because as far as I can gather, his work was seen by some as “so very supportive of both our community and its faith.”

(Psst: Mr. Dutcher. Call me!)

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Movies post-apocalyptic

Last night’s fare: I Am Legend.

I don’t watch many movies because I’m usually obsessed with the ones playing in my head, begging to be laid on paper.

But I’ll roll over for post-apocalyptic tales (oh, 12 Monkeys and Waterworld come to mind and that reminds me, why [other than Kevin Costner’s acting] is Waterworld so reviled?). I Am Legend is the best I’ve seen yet.

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Reading against type

This morning I’m listening to Simply Red (flashbacks from freshman year at BYU) and the song “Money’s Too Tight to Mention” is a good song. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have it in my library.

It also trashes things I believe in. Does it bother me? On some visceral level, yes, but that doesn’t make it difficult for me to listen to it and it certainly doesn’t keep me from listening. I’d miss a whole lot of good music (and that voice!) if I took umbrage at other people’s opinions and the way they state them (usually the way they state them is more off-putting than what they say).

So it started me thinking about how I read fiction,
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