It’s so automatic now. Even in eastern countries. Who doesn’t know that “diamonds are forever”? But why? Why is it romantic? Why is it a symbol of ultimate love? I first began to wonder about diamonds when I was living in New York and, while walking in the Diamond district, a strange and wondrous man holding a handwritten “Buy Her A Diamond” sign stopped my boyfriend and said ominously, “Buy her a diamond before it’s too late.”

Years later, his words became the title of my chicklit novel. And researching the novel I found out that people used to exchange all sorts of things as engagement gifts, including thimbles. It was the wealthy who began exchanging gemstones, usually birthstones. And then Emperor Maximilian I gave his fiancée Mary of Burgundy a diamond engagement ring and that was that. Mary’s family controlled the big diamond-cutting centers in Europe, so even then, diamonds were nothing more than a massive commercial push. This was way back in the 15th century.

Now skip to around 1945. It was the diamond syndicate De Beers who now controlled diamonds. And they wanted to create a massive demand for diamonds. So they began to advertise. And advertise. They still advertise.

So who came up with the slogan “diamonds are forever”? A woman copywriter named Frances Gerety. According to a NYT article, she asked God to send her a line…and he did. She, by the way, never married.

Of course no one thinks they’re wasting money buying a diamond because diamonds are a great investment. Or so we are all led to believe. Apparently, they stink as an investment. According to Ira Weissman, you’re lucky to get even half your money back if you wanted to resell your diamond ring. Ira has a lot of interesting things to say in his article for Huffington Post. Read it before buying her a diamond before it’s too late.

Anchored Leaves

It is with a sense of relief that I announce the release of my book Anchored Leaves. It’s the one book I really wanted to finish before I died. Not that I’m dying anytime soon. But I always had that nagging worry: “What if I get run over by a bus before that book is finished…”

Funnily enough, now that the book is out, I sort of feel like I have died. Or that a life has died. I started the book over twenty years ago. It was my first novel and like a first love, was crucial in what came after. Now that it’s finished, launched, I realize all my writing focal points no longer have much relevance, which brings me full circle. Because when I started writing, I was more interested in phenomena than story. In learning how to write, I was forced into story and now I’m back in phenomena.

I call Anchored Leaves my opus because it’s my great thesis on memory and love, how the idea of love is transmitted/transmuted from one generation to another. It opens with a bang and then quietly hums along, love and memory circling around and around.

Anchored Leaves is available as both a paperback and ebook at Amazon. Hopefully it’ll be available at the iBook store and B&N soon. I go through Smashwords to distribute to those stores and there’s been a lot of tiny issues that bog things down.

If you’d like to read the opening pages, here’s a sample over at Fictionaut.

But what I found most interesting in the chapter is the Chief Equerry’s complaint that woman who show off using Chinese characters in their letters only end up seeming masculine. You see, during the Heian period, aristocratic women wrote in the phonetic kana script, avoiding Chinese. Thus, writing in Chinese, which was the domain of men, was thought to be very masculine and formal. While reading this, I thought, gee, nothing much has changed in 1000 years.

I thought this because when I was in college, I had a friend who was an expat Japanese who’d living in the U.S. for a long time. We were both very much interested in the politics of sex, especially in language and she told me that in Japan, there was a very specific language and grammar used only by women. In protest, she and fellow feminists had begun refusing to use “women’s talk”. Because of this, Japanese thought my friend was rather too masculine. I’d often wondered if “women’s talk” had died down any but recently I saw a Japanese language program that explained the difference between masculine and feminine/polite forms. Furthermore, it encouraged men to order food in the the more aggressive, impolite way so as not to seem feminine. So desu ne.

For years I’ve been wanting to read The Tale of Genji. What stopped me was a feeling that I needed a guide. Maybe I could find a class? And then last summer, over at the Conversational Reading blog, I found out a group calling itself The Summer of Genji was going to read and discuss the book online. Sadly, last summer I was in the middle of moving from one city to another. So it was My Summer Without Genji.

But now I’m sorta settled in and decided it was now or never. I bought Penguin Classics’ deluxe edition translated by Royall Tyler (recommended by The Summer of Genji) and plunged in. I have to say, I’m really liking the Tyler translation. It flows beautifully and I get this strange sensation that I’m reading the original Japanese (the original was written 1000 years ago and is apparently too difficult for the average Japanese to read, the court language the author used being so arcane). A wonderful thing about the Tyler version is that before each chapter, there’s a list of people who will be appearing, along with their bios. And of course, there are tons of footnotes that help you feel your way through this very different culture of the Heian aristocracy.

The first chapter, which I’d read before, is the story of Genji’s parents. (Spoiler Alert) His father is the emperor and his mother is the great love of his father’s life. Sadly, Genji’s mother doesn’t have the right connections at court so is prone to severe bullying. This leads to her tragic death.

I’ve always felt sorry for Genji’s mother. It’s not her fault the emperor can’t live without her. Did she actually enjoy all that attention? In fact, I get the feeling she was pretty miserable being at his constant beck and call. No wonder the poor thing died.

She’s an interesting contrast to the scheming women you hear about in Chinese history or watch in historical dramas. These women do anything to capture power, including killing their own babies. Genji’s mother is more like Bai Yu’s sister, the imperial concubine who died serving the emperor (The Story of the Stone). It’s hard to imagine how incredibly stressful it must have been to be at court, to be a concubine.

This post should really be titled “I Was Possessed By a Djinni or How I Came To Write Romance of the 3 Djinn“. It really is quite an extraordinary story.

For the longest time I wanted to write a YA sci fi/fantasy novel. Like A Wrinkle in Time or Enchantress from the Stars or A Wizard of Earthsea. I even wrote the first chapter of one in high school. But I just couldn’t find the “right” story. And then one night my muse sent me a tantalizing paragraph while I was falling asleep. The beginning of my djinn novel.

I kept the beginning for well over a year before deciding to seriously tackle the story. Luckily, my muse was more than happy to continue my feed. She sent me scene after scene. Merrily we went along until, abruptly—just as we’d plunged into the Djinn world—my muse fled. Enter the Djinni. Right into my soul.

The djinn possession almost hospitalized me. It drove me to write close to 40,000 words in three weeks. I barely slept. Even sleeping the words poured out of me. It was a terrifying experience, and also stunningly beautiful. Because it was very much like an act of love. An act of falling in love, my heart pounding out of my chest, euphoria nearly ripping open every cell of my body. I remember thinking my heart was going to burst right open and that it wouldn’t be such a bad way to die.

Djinn possessions are a well-known phenomenon in the ancient world of Arabia. Here, I’ll let Jack from Romance tell you more about it:

The Djinn are what we in the West refer to as genies. Of course, they weren’t anything like the way we think of genies. Instead, they were powerful desert spirits. Interestingly enough, the word genie comes from the word genius, which at one time meant a protective spirit, but now refers to exceptional creative powers. You see, in ancient times in the Middle East, it was thought that the creative force and the Djinn were one and the same thing. The Djinn would enter the body of artists and poets, seizing them completely in a kind of creative frenzy. You just weren’t a poet unless you suffered a good, old-fashioned Djinn possession. Apparently, even Muhammad thought it was a Djinni and not God talking to him at first. Djinn were pretty impressive spirits before Hollywood got a hold of them and put them in those ridiculous clothes.

I doubt I’ll ever have another djinn possession again. Which is a good thing because I don’t think I’d survive another one. Still—I can’t help but long for another possession.

Romance of the 3 Djinn is available at Amazon. Ebook versions for Kindle, Nook and iPad are available at Smashwords. Hopefully, Romance will be available at the B&N and iBook online stores soon. Until then, I’d like to entice you with an offer for a 50% discount over at Smashwords where you can download for most ereaders. Use coupon code MQ57E (good until January 15, 2013).

The wonderful card I received with my prize.

A happy announcement post! Thrilled and amazed that my story “miranda” is the 12th winner of the Glass Woman Prize. The news came totally out of the blue because I hadn’t even entered.

I’m so grateful to Beate Sigriddaughter whose tremendous efforts make this prize possible. Beate, who is a wonderful writer, donates 10% of her annual income to fund the prize. Wow. She uses the prize to encourage woman writers. As she writes at the Glass Woman Prize webpage: I want to help along the cause of women expressing themselves authentically and fearlessly and passionately. It has something to do with a contribution to justice and soul growing in the world. Wow, again.

“miranda” began as a novel and got painfully whittled down to a mere 2,000 words. I really bled blood for “miranda” so this wonderful recognition means a great deal to me. Also, it’s nice getting prizes. ; )

My short story “Brother David” is now a free ebook at Barnes & Noble and Sony Ebook store. First published in Split Quarterly, it’s a story about family, cancer and cookies. Really.

I wish as a writer I could do the same. Clearly, there are many, many readers who are not going to get my brand of writing and I wish I could take one look, shake my head and walk off, my writing clutched to my chest. In lieu of that, I wondered if a quiz would do. Something like “Don’t Read My Books Unless You Pass This Quiz”. And the quiz would go something like this.

Your idea of a good time is
a) watching Snookie get drunk
b) watching Everybody Loves Raymond
c) watching Blackadder

Jane Austen wrote
a) Fifty Shades of Grey
b) zombie stories
c) Persuasion

When someone says Jesus was a Texan and spoke English, you think
a) true
b) Jesus did speak English
c) what???!!!!

Barbara Pym is
a) George Bush’s wife
b) a cocktail
c) one of your favorite writers

You want to buy a mini croissant. It’s $1.50. You give the cashier $5. You should get back in change
a) I don’t do math
b) wait—I’ll go get my calculator
c) $3.50

When you read William Wordsworth’s

THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.

you
a) fall asleep
b) don’t get it
c) understand completely

The U.S. couldn’t have won the Revolutionary War without
a) tea
b) Benedict Arnold
c) the aid of the French

Which is grammatically correct? “Between you and I” or “between you and me”?
a) what—are you talking grammar or something?
b) “between you and I”
c) “between you and me”

“Show, don’t tell” is
a) don’t know what you’re talking about
b) best writing advice ever
c) writing advice like this is for amateurs

When someone tweets “You can die a quiet death when deprived of books”, you
a) reply “What?”
b) unfollow the tweeter
c) RT

If your answers were mostly “a”, do NOT buy or ever read my books.

If your answers were mostly “b”, you probably shouldn’t buy my books.

If your answers were mostly “c”, please buy my books.

Illustration by Harry Clarke

After many months, I was finally able to find the time to read The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault and the story that I keep thinking about it is “Blue Beard”. Along with “Donkey-Skin”, it’s one of the more horrific tales, involving gruesome domestic violence: a young woman marries a rich man; rich man gives her permission to look in every room of his vast mansion except one; woman looks in that room anyway and finds the dead bodies of the man’s previous wives.

The tale of Blue Beard warns us of many things. That young women should be wary of men with lots of keys. Joking aside, domestic violence is a serious issue even now. How many countless women have died at the hands of their boyfriends or husbands? Even fathers? It also warns us that curiosity can be a dangerous thing. At least in Perrault’s version, the young woman seems safe as long as she keeps her word and does not unlock that secret room. But deep at heart, it seems to me “Blue Beard” is a tale about trust. Can a man trust his bride to keep her promises? The punishment for failure is death. But the rewards? Wealth and perhaps love. Unable to find someone worthy of his absolute trust, Blue Beard kills and is killed. How many marriages have died, and still die, due to a failure of trust? And wasn’t the first failure Blue Beard’s? After all, you only test the people you don’t trust, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. And he got much more than he expected. Well, you live by the sword, you die by the sword…

The Fairy Tales can be read at The Project Gutenberg. The link is for the edition magnificently illustrated by Harry Clarke. I highly recommend it, especially for the expanded version of “Sleeping Beauty”.

Update: Well, I’m still thinking about it and it seems to me that I should have written “Can a man trust his bride to obey him.” The poor bride didn’t have a choice so it wasn’t a promise at all. Blue Beard didn’t want trust, really, but complete obedience. And obedience, or control, is really at the heart of most domestic violence, isn’t it? Strange that I felt even an ounce of sympathy for Blue Beard. I suppose it was because I felt so acutely his sense of utter disappointment.