I have to say, it was remarkable fun to began an entry without the LS designation that I used for tour-related blog entries. That said, a few additions to the tour:
April 27: Barnes and Noble, Upstairs at the Square, 33 East 17th Street, New York, NY, 7 p.m. I will be appearing with John Wesley Harding, a terrific singer-songwriter who’s also a novelist. (Unfair, isn’t it, to do both so well?)
April 29: Edgar Symposium, 2 p.m. (This is a ticketed event, sponsored by the Mystery Writers of America as part of Edgar Week.)
May 14: The Mystery Bookstore, Los Angeles, CA, 7 p.m.
May 16: M is for Mystery, San Mateo CA, 2 p.m.
(These additions to the schedule were made possible by another LA gig that I’m reluctant to write about yet, because it’s pretty cool and I am very superstitious. Okay, but what the heck: I am scheduled to appear on The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson on May 14. But bear in mind, these things can always change.)
But what I’m really here to talk about is bedtime. Just yesterday, I had a fascinating conversation with the SO and his mother. He remembered how much he hated bedtime, how often he was caught with a flashlight or contraband transistor radio, how he would sneak out to the listen to the adult conversations. The youngest child by quite a bit, he always worried he was missing something.
Whereas: I loved bedtime. At least, that’s how I remember it. And when I tried to think why this was so, I remembered a day when I was no more than six years old. I awakened from a dream, a magnificent dream in which I had been a Supergirl-like creature, capable of flying. (I also resembled Johnny Quest’s sister — blonde, animated, two-dimensional.) I wanted so badly to recapture that dream. And then I realized — I could simply tell myself stories like the dream. For the rest of my childhood, I was happy to go to bed when I was still alert enough to spin stories about adventurous girls with amazing powers. I was not unlike the two sisters in All-of-a-Kind Family, Charlotte and Gertie, who made a game out of eating treats in bed, or the older ones, Ella and Sarah, who decorated an imaginary dream house, IIRC.
It seems duh obvious that such a child would grow up to write stories for a living, but I honestly never put this together until yesterday, sharing stories in the kitchen of my SO’s mother.
So what do you remember about bedtime? Love it, hate it? Did you have rituals? Or rules you flouted?
I don’t think that I ever minded bedtime. I do remember making up stories in my head in bed and liking it. Sadly, the adult me can’t write worth a darn anyway.
i have always hated going to bed, although the reasoning has not always been the same. in childhood i was always in trouble for reading wayyyy past my bedtime. i am still often found at 0300 hrs. with a book, though i no longer have to ‘sneak’ it. funny re: being read to–i was just thinking last wk. that i have no memory of my parents reading to me, although i know they did it, and i can remember other things from teh same time frame. i was a precocious reader, so maybe they did not do it much once i could read to myself. i do remember sitting on my grandfather’s lap, in a chair i now have, and him reading me the ‘funny papers’ on sundays in my grandparents’ sun room.
i also remember sneaking about to eavesdrop on my folks, and making my father take my whole bed apart because i could feel something in it–and there was, in fact, a pebble or something–and being ever after ‘the princess and the pea’–but at least i was vindicated!
i had a gorgeous bedroom, very quiet, and one i picture often when i cannot go to sleep.
re: trains–occasionally, very late at night when the city is quiet, you can hear the odd train whistle/horn here (i am in DC), but it is certainly not My Cousin Vinny-esque. we tend to hear more sirens and helicopters here. i could definitely relate to Gloria Bustamonte when she thought about the absence of planes immediately post-9/11.
//kjl
I was one of those who as a small child kept getting up, especially when we were visiting grandparents. I’ve heard stories that I used to sneak down the stairs and hide under my grandpa’s rocking chair. After I learned to read I never minded bedtime because I could read in bed, something I do to this day. I’ve always had trouble falling asleep though.
I think when I was very little I hated it. But when I started school I liked it because I did the continuous story. In other words, I imagined everything in chapters. A new one every night but about the same people. Yes, Laura it’s odd that we grew up to be writers!
Bed time-I was scared that martians were going to land on the flat roof outside my window. I kept my shade pulled all the way down at night so the martians could not see in the window. This is why I did not let my children watch scary movies when they were younger(of course, my kids had ET the friendly, loving alien). I am no longer scared of potential alien landings- I got over that when I was about 11.
Bedtime for me was a chance to read and imagine as well. The hardest part was going to bed in the summer when the sun was still up.
I didn’t know Johnny Quest had a sister.
I lived in simpler times. Bedtime wasn’t too bad. I shared a bedroom with two of my brothers. (We had a house with only three bedrooms and at different times an aunt, a grandmother and later my grandfather) living with us.
The great thing about going to bed was that I could still listen to the big old Philco radio from the living room downstairs. Hearing tv from another room can be distracting, but listening to the radio was wonderful.
I did have nightmares at time…one time every Dick Tracy villain was ranged around my bed. Now that was scary.
And I day dreamed (at night) all the time.
CRAIG FERGUSON! He is a hoot. Fabulous, Laura!!! Please send another reminder before May 14.
I was like your SO, the youngest (of a tribe, in my case) and always thought I was missing something. Plus I’m a nightowl so was never ready to go to bed so early.
Ah, bedtime! I used to love it as a kid since it meant I got to lay my head against the cool concrete wall that met my bed.
I also (and still do when I can’t sleep, which is often) used to flip my pillow over to the “cool” side until I dropped off. Something about the cold that allowed me to drift off to the Land of Nod.
I was always comforted by the sound of the train off in the distance, making that train sound, as I lay in bed waiting for sleep. The sound of trains in the distance has stayed with me. In fact, I thought I heard one last night, but couldn’t for the life of me figure out if it was for real or if I was dreaming. It didn’t make since that in the 15 years I have been living where I do, I don’t recall ever hearing a train…
Trains in the night are a wonderful sound. I can hear them where I live now and although I know they’re primarily used for cargo, it’s hard not to have romantic associations.
Bedtime. I can strongly recall (although I must have been doing a lot of reading in bed, too) being quite young and being in bed after dark listening on my transistor radio to Long John Nebel’s talk show. It was so very sophisticated (or what I thought must be New York City chic) and when you listened in on his conversations/interviews, it was like being at a cocktail party with the adults. I can recall one show where his guests were Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller (was it some New Year’s eve?) and laughing and laughing with them. I was transported to a world that I knew I wanted to be a part of some day.
I have no recollection of ever being read to at bed time, which is sad. I learned to read on my own when I was three, so I was self-sufficient even then. Both my parents always worked full-time, so I guess there were some things that there just wasn’t time to do.
The movie Poltergeist has an all-time great scene (to me) where the trees outside the scared kid’s window finally come through the window after him!
THAT was exactly the fear I always had – those odd shadows and shapes swaying out there.
I confess, nighttime has always been scarey, to me.
As an adult, I’ve always known I wouldn’t want to be police (or a reporter, for that matter), since you’d have to always deal with all those terrible things that go on (day AND night – but somehow worse at night)
I did the continuous story thing to combat insomnia, starting at age seven. And it worked until I started writing short stories ten years ago and then it became too confusing. I now have no mechanism for putting myself to sleep.
You mean that there are kids who DON’T sneak a book and a flashlight under the covers when they are supposed to go to sleep? I’m sure my parents knew about it, but figured I was at least reading.
My parents never censored my reading, instead, they would talk to me about what was good or not in my choices. Thus, I never had to hide what I was reading, but learned to discern for myself what I really wanted to read.
Reading before bedtime is still one of my most enjoyable things to do.
I remember my dad reading “Yertle the Turtle”.
“For I am ruler of all that I see!”
Is http://www.Lauralippman.com down?
Excellent question. It was last time I checked but given that I haven’t updated it for two months, I couldn’t feel that aggrieved.
Body Mass Index and I’m fine with mine, but most of the female guests are actors who look as if they could be borne aloft on the lightest of summer breezes.
My BMI would be way in the red-zone, if it stood for Bitching, Moaning, and Irritability index (at least today!)
It looks like it might be down because the domain name wasn’t renewed? Is that possible? Laura, you don’t wany anyone else using your web name!
Even though you haven’t had the time to update it lately, I still use it for the archives and book information now and then, so I hope that you will have someone look into it and get it up and running again.
By the way, any updates on Craig Ferguson?
Thanks.
I wouldn’t expect any updates on Ferguson until the afternoon of May 14, when I plan to update my Facebook status about three seconds before a producer escorts me from the green room. Because that’s the only way I’ll believe it’s going to happen.
However, after much consideration, I do believe that I have the highest BMI of any female guest he’s ever had on the show. Maybe of any guest, period.
BMI, eh?
So, would this be the brilliance/Magnificence/Intelligence index?
Or maybe the Bodacious/Mystical/Incomparability index?
Or the…..errr, nevermind!
Website is up at this writing. i’m glad–i actually like to go there and catch up on some of the historical material–and restaurant tips!
break a leg in nyc! we’ll see what happens w/CF. pish-posh on the BMI. he’ll be focused on the Why Is She Not Blonde saga.
nope, definitely not the highest BMI. not even close. i watch that show pretty regularly.
i’m off to vegas for a week for a conference. does anyone have any memories about gambling–not necessarily in a gaming house? one thing i remember as an adult was about my first time using the slots. my brother was underage and my father had to do who knows what with him. my mother and i were pulling the handles for what seemed like the entire day. the next morning, we could hardly brush our hair or our teeth, because our arms were so sore (not from lifting buckets of cash).
//karen
Karen,
I got my first bike because my dad had a good night at poker.
That story — really, its inverse — became the basis for Hardly Knew Her.
Wow; that really struck me, because in that story, the girl that we Hardly Knew sometimes also reaped the fruits of dad’s gambling, but she always had to squirrel her goodies away, for fear of losing then just as suddenly.
Here’s a memory that this stirred; in 1967 my grandpa passed away, and my dad came into a little money. I know it was 1967, because he came home in a brand new 1967 Pontiac Catalina (champaign color, 4-door) and I got a new, red Schwinn Skippy with chrome fenders.
Not long ago, I came across the 40 year old cash-receipt for that bike, and the thing cost a little more than $50! I was amazed!! Fifty dollars in 1967 has to be the equivalent of – what? – $150 or $200 in 2009?
I know that you can buy a new bike with a popular cartoon character or princess on it from WalMart right now, and not spend much more than $40, right now.
Yes, my exact question. Is there anyone who didn’t stay up late reading with a flaslight under the covers?
I discovered that when I was 11. It was so much fun.
Then in high school I just stayed up reading in my room until all hours and could never get up in the morning, especially when a senior and we had to be at school at 8 a.m. I was always late–from my reading habit, no other reason.
And I’m still like that. Will stay up reading no matter what. I like the stillness, the calmness of the night, to be awake in the quiet and darkness.
It’s so private and it is like stealing precious moments.
My father took me to the library throughout junior high and high school and he did influence my reading. Luckily, he liked mysteries, especially legal thrillers, so that started me at about 15 reading those as well as Nero Wolfe.
The only book he told me not to read was “Peyton Place.” His reason: it was garbage. I was 15. Did I have to then read it? Of course. I read it, thought it was ridiculously awful and that was that.
But I think a parent can’t tell a teen-ager not to read a book. It just makes it tantalizing, like telling one not to eat the chocolate cake that’s in the refrigerator, even if it’s a bad one.
Now I listen to friends’ book recommendations or dislikes and take them to heart.
Oh, to youth,
Kathy D.
laura: i’m just back from my trip– you probably are too–and i recently read HKH, which i absolutely *loved* (the book, not only the story. the stories in that have really lingered with me. i was thinking about the card-playin’-dad when i was in vegas; so many of those folks look as if they really *have* to win, and they appear unhappily anxious–not the ‘this is so fun!’ look but the earnestly strained ‘i’ll get the next one’ look.
i played very little as i had not much extra time–i made about 150$ gross (including winnings that were recycled)and cashed out enough to buy an overpriced sweatshirt in the hotel for the flights back [i froze all the way out, after taking out all my outer layers in the heat wave] and covered all cabs, beverages, and meals on travel day, so that is a definite win. and i had fun, because i always set a limit with how much i can lose–once that threshold is reached, gotta walk away. i would have made time to have played more, but i was with someone who had never gambled before, so i had more teaching moments and couldn’t really get into my groove.
kathy d.: unfortunately, or fortunately, my insomnia and avid love of reading are a perfect symbiotic relationship.
//karen