A Captain Hook Christmas

Because I'm a grownup and I can celebrate the way I want to.

Although he needs a hook rather than a right hand. I will probably paint one on once I have the time to do it correctly. Just beyond his left shoulder, on the tree, is a Disney Captain Hook ornament. (Really, it's amazing the collectibles that are out there.) "First on the tree," observed my husband. Well, yes, that's how it works around here. (And he did say that as he handed me the ornament, after all.)

Someday I would love to add a Steinbach Hook nutcracker to the collection:

But he's expensive. And, I hear, about to be discontinued, which will not likely make him less expensive. Ah well, perhaps someday.

Peter and the popular media

I don't remember a time when there weren't merchandise tie-ins--sometimes when I was growing up it seemed like every cartoon character appeared on a juice glass or in a Happy Meal--but I didn't realize how far back the practice went till I found this edition of Peter Pan released in conjunction with the 1924 silent film. It's printed with the 1911 copyright date of the original book, but as the movie was released in 1924, I suspect that may not be accurate. It does make it harder to track down a copy of the book, however.

Now with bonus Siamese! Owen says hi.

Let's try that again.

The book has eight illustrated plates from the film. Only one includes Captain Hook, though, you may as well know.

This Bonnie Television Book from 1953 isn't strictly a tie-in, although this line of books was no doubt printed to cash in on the new fad of television. The books originally came with a wheel mounted behind the cover that could be turned, in the manner of a pop-up book, to provide an illusion of a black and white TV show, as you can see below. Mine doesn't have the wheel, as I bought it for the art inside rather than spending three times as much for an intact copy.

In the middle of the book is a mystery:

This is Wendy, in the yellow nightgown she's wearing throughout the story. But there is not a cookie-baking scene in this book or any other interpretation I've found, or the play, or any of the movies that I can remember. Not in the beginning of the story, or in a game of imagination in Neverland. It seems like it must be an advertisement, but for what, I can't tell. Perhaps the secret lies in the missing cover feature, although given what I see of the "television" pictures in the image above, I am unconvinced. For now, I remain baffled.

The ruination of my reading

I have always been an inveterate reader. Nothing altered that, not the passage of years or changes in my life, however substantial--until I became serious about writing. I truly believe reading is essential for good writing, but now I must devote my time to the creation of stories, and hope I did enough reading in past years to make up for the lack now.

Which is not to say I no longer read, but that I no longer grab up any book that looks like it might be interesting, or follow lists of what's new and notable. My reading now tends more and more to fall into various categories of research. (And this aside from pure research books, like guides to ship rigging or celestial navigation). Mind you, the categories are flexible, and I'm certain I'm still learning from the experts as well as enjoying filling in the information I require, but the categories of interest have certainly narrowed. Some apply more specifically than others, but all give me at least a sense of background or a flavor of a time and/or place that's relevant to The Stowaway.

On my current To Be Read list, in either paper or Kindle format (occasionally both), by the aforementioned category:

Edwardian:

• Coral Island, J. Michael Ballantyne (an influence on J.M. Barrie)
• The Journal of a Disappointed Man, Wilhelm Nero Pilate Barbellion (you may be relieved to know that is the nom de plume of a man actually named Bruce Frederick Cummings)
• The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins (because I need to know if it really is likely to be Vivian's favorite book)
• Girl of the Limberlost, Gene Stratton-Porter 

Sadly, neither my paper nor electronic copy looks
like this. Would that one of them did.

Nautical:

• Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
• Ahab's Wife, Sena Jeter Naslund
• Evolution's Captain, Peter Nichols (the clash of science and religion in the era preceding and influencing the Edwardians, ships)
• The Navigator of New York, Wayne Johnston (polar exploration and ships)
• Master and Commander and Post Captain, by Patrick O'Brian (along with Sea of Words--at a whopping 400-plus pages--a companion glossary compiled by Dean King with John B. Hattendorf and J. Worth Estes). I have the DVD of the first novel too, and I'm planning to immerse myself in a Master and Commander weekend before too much longer.

Erich Lessing in John Huston's 1954 film of Moby-Dick. This
 would make me want to read the book if I hadn't already decided to.

England:

• Thames: The Biography, Peter Ackroyd
• Imagined London, Anna Quindlen

The Amazon/City of Manaus:

• The River That God Forgot, Richard Collier
• The Sea and the Jungle, Henry Major Tomlinson
• The Naturalist on the River Amazon, Henry Walter Bates
• State of Wonder, Ann Patchett

Miscellaneous

• The Secret Life of Pronouns: What Our Words Say About Us, James W. Pennebaker (because I want to make sure I don't get James's speech wrong)

So how am I doing with all this? Well, um, I'm a third of the way through Moby-Dick and halfway through The River That God Forgot, and I've started Imagined London and Thames: A Biography. And I've read a few books that don't appear on the list. Possibly I am going to start to need to block out more designated reading time, which will include pushing those ever-present temptations of Twitter and Tumblr off to the side of the map.

Edward Gorey had the truth of it.

But lest you think I've forgone all recreational reading, I've read almost the entire Inspector Lynley series by Elizabeth George this year, thirteen volumes so far. (And some of them are long!) Of course they are set in locations around England, thereby possibly qualifying them as, er, research...