In a Hole in the Ground there lived a Hobbit

It was the summer of the hobbit.

I convinced my youngest to read The Hobbit this summer (he loved it, except for a couple of "boring" chapters). That inspired me to buy a hardcover version of the annotated edition (not for my son to read, though; he's hard on books). It's a great version -- lots of notes on the creation and publication of the novel, plus numerous illustrations from Tolkien himself and dozens of other artists.

Coincidentally, Aimee Ray of Little Dear issued for her September Patreon pattern a trio of doors to make, including a hobbit door. So of course I made it:

I've built up quite the collection of small Tolkien crafts.

Night Film by Marisha Pessl

A lot of the books I read are about the power of storytelling -- to entertain, to understand, to heal -- but stories can also lead us astray. If we aren't sufficiently aware of our own biases, if we make too many assumptions, we end up creating a story that isn't true.

The protagonist of Pessl's second novel, Night Film, is a journalist recovering from a career-ending blunder: he didn't verify an anonymous tip accusing famed-yet-reclusive film director Stanislaus Cordova of unspeakable crimes against children. Instead McGrath, who was already suspicious of Cordova, blabbed the allegations on a talk show only to have the tip proved a hoax (done, McGrath is convinced, to discredit him before he uncovered the director's secrets). Years later, McGrath has an eerie encounter with Cordova's daughter shortly before her death that causes him to reopen his investigation, determined to both show the world the true Cordova and vindicate himself.

McGrath is an unlikeable character, full of himself and full of edgy nonsense about life in general and New York City in particular. But he is a determined (if occasionally careless) journalist who follows every lead, no matter how tenuous, in his quest to understand what happened to Cordova's daughter, and what Cordova did that led to her death. The problem is that he never stops to question the truth of his initial premise -- Cordova's deeply disturbing films are necessarily the product of a deeply disturbed mind -- which leads him to misinterpret what he learns. By the end, not only McGrath but the reader must call into question everything learned. I didn't love this book the way I did Special Topics ..., but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

A Master Class in Stringing

Last year Kate Richbourg of the Beadshop ran a six-session master class in bead stringing based on the style and techniques of Helen Dietze; of course I jumped all over that.  The result:

The photo does not do it justice

This was a lot of fun to do. Kate's project centered around a large stone donut, but I did not have one in a color I liked. I did, however, have a giant brass replica of a Chinese coin, so that became the core around which everything else was built. I rooted through my stash and pulled every purple, burgundy, brass, and gold-colored bead I had and got to stringing. Some progress pictures:

This is not the first time I've done a Helen Dietze project; decades ago the late, lamented (by me at least) Bead & Button magazine featured her and a version of one of her ambassador necklaces. I made it but I never wore it -- it called for long dangles at the back to counterbalance the weight of the front. However, those strands were uncomfortable and set off my sensory issues. When I began this project, I knew I'd need to keep the front from getting too big and heavy so that I would not have to have too much hanging off the clasp. This necklace is much easier for me to wear.

The fun in a project like this is that it is completely improv; when I started, I had no idea what it would look like, just what colors I wanted and the fact that it should be a little smaller than Kate's to fit me proportionately. Playing with what was functionally a giant "bead soup" was a blast, and I'll want to do something like this again. It's a great artistic exercise.