Today while I was struggling to write while feeling not in the mood to write at all, I happened upon an article on the New York Time's website about Matera, an Italian city I had the pleasure of visiting two years ago. I was there for a writers conference and stayed for a little over a week. While I was there, I met some lovely people and enjoyed the beauty and culture of this wonderful city to the fullest.

Have a look at the article. I think you'll be enchanted by Matera and Basilicata.

Airplane Etiquette...

On Tuesday afternoon I returned home from a two-week holiday in the US and, while it feels good to be back in my apartment in Frösunda, I feel a little homesick. That being said, as much as I miss the US, I don't miss some of the people. There was a certain level of rudeness and narrow-mindedness that I encountered while Stateside that drove me insane. Some of the rudeness can be attributed to the stress of living in a big city; a lot of it was just plain arrogance and ignorance. But that's another post.

What really got my goat was something that happened on the way home.

My flight to the US was great. I was seated next to a lovely older woman named Gail from New Jersey who was on her way home from having visited Norway. We chatted for a while about her vacation in Scandinavia--she'd been there several times in the past and loved the stark beauty of the Norwegian coast and the people she'd met. I was seated by the window; she was in the aisle seat.

One of the first things that Gail said to me once we'd fastened our seat belts was that I should just let her know--even if she was sleeping--if I needed to stand to stretch or go to the bathroom. I thought that was nice of her, especially since I am one of those people who like to stretch while I am flying just so I don't get swollen feet, etc. True to her word, the three or four times I needed to leave my seat, she stood and let me get up without seeming annoyed that I was disturbing her. It's one of the things one must accept if one chooses to sit in the aisle seat.

By the end of the flight, I felt like Gail and I, through our chats about Scandinavia and living in the the Philadelphia area, etc had managed to become pretty good travel buddies. We even chatted as we waited for our luggage.

Sadly, the same cannot be said for the woman whom I sat beside on my way home from the US. When I boarded my London-bound flight, I realized I was going to have to sit beside a woman who didn't like being "disturbed". She glared at me when she found out I was in the window seat. She huffed and puffed and behaved like it was a chore for her to stand up so that I could get to my seat. Three hours into the flight, when I needed to use the facilities, her huffing and puffing and rolling her eyes were enough that I wondered if she'd paid for two seats so she could have space but British Airways had only allotted her one. I offered to switch seats with her and explained that I would probably need to get up a few more times to stretch and to use the bathroom. She refused and said, "I want the aisle seat. I wouldn't have booked it if I didn't want it."

Fair enough. But if you're going to sit in the aisle seat, then you shouldn't behave like the person sitting beside you is being unreasonable if they need to stand up or leave their seat. During the 6.5-hour flight, she never left her seat to use the facilities--so there was no way I could leave mine without waking her up or tapping her on the shoulder to ask if she could stand up. At one point, she griped that I was beginning "to be a pain".

Hmm. Well, I ignored her but it started to annoy me that I was being perceived as a pain simply because I needed to use the toilet. I drink a lot of water when I am on long-haul flights because I want to stay hydrated. I need to stand. I like to do the Wellness stretch program that British Airways advises all its passengers to follow when they are on long flights. And considering that I usually only leave my seat three or four times, I don't see how that can abnormal. I think it's more abnormal when people never leave their seats. It makes me wonder if they would rather pee on themselves than use a public toilet.

So here's a piece of advice to any of you who are planning on taking a long-haul flight: if you don't want to be disturbed by someone who needs to stand during a flight, don't ask for an aisle seat. And you might want to consider sharing your common armrest with the person sitting beside you. The woman I sat next to on my London-bound flight wouldn't share the armrest at all.

Now I know--next time I fly to the US or to any destination that will take longer longer than three hours to reach--I will book an aisle seat.

My Other Blog...

A long time ago, I said I would start a blog where I review the books I read. Somehow, I never got around to it. Today, however, I finally managed to start it. The other blog is called Kim Talks Books and you can find it at http://kimtalksbooks.wordpress.com.

No, I am not abandoning this blog. I will still update this one at least once or twice a month (maybe more, depending on how I feel).

So go to my new book review blog and give me suggestions for how to improve it. I am still a novice at this stuff. :)

Has Summer Moved On?


For the first time in a long time, we had warm, glorious weather in Stockholm for nearly five weeks without interruption. The temperature was moderate by American standards (roughly 80-85F) and sunny. And despite the fact that nearly everyone in Stockholm was out sunbathing or just simply enjoying the weather, nearly every Stockholmer I met couldn't prevent themselves from complaining about how hot it was (most unanimously agreed it was too hot, I thought it was just right) and moaned about wanting it to rain so the air would cool off.


Well, they got their wish.


It started raining on Saturday, and it's been raining on-and-off since then. According to the weather prognosis, we can expect more of the same well into next week. Now all those people who wished for rain are going around complaining about the very rain they wanted. I tell them, "You have yourselves to blame. You wanted rain..." 


I don't like the rain--I know we need it, but Stockholm when it's raining is a depressing city. A nasty low pressure system smothers the city in murky clouds. Blech!

Chica Chats

When I first moved here to Sweden, I didn't have many female friends. I think this was in part due to my trying to make as many Swedish friends as possible and realzing that this was sometimes an impossible task. What I didn't know when I first moved to Sweden was that most people have their clique of friends whom they've known since childhood and are loath to include members in said clique--unless you are the partner of someone within the clique. So, while you may work with them everyday and have lunch and go to after-works with them, they'll rarely ever invite you to their barbecues or dinner parties. Now, keep in mind, this is all based on my experience--which is pretty old now since I moved here in 1995 and I am thinking of that time period between 1995 and 1997 when I really wanted female friends (I had a great bunch back in Richmond and Philadelphia and I missed them all). Instead, my closest friends during that period were an Australian, an American with a Swedish name and an Irishman. It took three years for me to finally make enough female friends that I felt like now I had a nice group to hang out with. And in the beginnig, only one was a Swede, and she didn't hang out with us that often. Nearly all the girls who became the Chicas were from somewhere else and all of them had moved here because of a Swede or some other European who was living in Sweden and lured them here thanks to love.

Fast forward ten or eleven years to now and the main group of Chicas includes Maitechu, Sara, Nadia, Julie and Alessandra. There are a few peripheral members who drift in and out at leisure. There's one who's been axed from my list of chicas but is still included in the others' list, which on occasion has made things tense but she hardly ever associates with any of us anyway so it doesn't really affect us very much anymore.

In the past we Chicas met nearly every day. We'd congregate in cafés, restaurants and bars. We'd have pot luck at one another's apartments, we'd have movie nights. If you saw one, you were bound to see at least two others. Then something happened--yes, what inevitably happens when you have women in their late 20s-early 30s--they all started having kids. At first, this didn't affect things so very much. We still met quite often; we just had to base things around baby sleeping/feeding schedules. And this usually worked. But as the number of babies in the group increased, it became more difficult to find places with enough space for all of us, plus wee ones, plus wee ones' baby carriages.

I was the odd one out. I didn't have kids. Initially, not by choice. We'd tried, but it didn't work. There were early-term miscarriages. The desire to have a baby began to feel like it was killing our relationship--sex is no longer fun when you are only doing it because you're ovulating, it begins to feel like a chore that must be got through. And when you treat your husband like an on-demand sperm donor and not the guy you love, it just leads to problems. Plus, there was the little glitch that he was no longer sure he wanted to have kids. After over a year of trying, we gave up. We both realized we liked our life together as it was, even if it meant we would never have our own children. Trying to explain that to people was not always easy. But that is another story.

One thing I noticed with the arrival of so many kids was how the nature of our Chicaness changed. Suddenly we weren't these carefree women with careers and husbands/boyfriends who got together to talk about anything and everything. My friends were turning into moms who talked about their kids and kind of forgot that those of us who didn't have kids wanted to sometimes talk about something else. There were times when I opted out of meeting for coffees or pot-lucks because I was tired of being asked to admire ad nauseum someone's baby or agree that their child was the most wonderful/intelligent/fill-in-your-fave-adjective child in the world. At first, I didn't say anything. I thought this would pass. But when it didn't, and I was becoming more and more...not anti-social but anti-social-if-all-we-were-going-to-do-was hang-out-in-a-playground-all-day...well, I realized I had to say something. I loved my Chicas' kids; I didn't love not being able to talk to my friends because it was non-stop babytalk. I also didn't love sometimes being treated like my problems weren't real problems simply because I didn't have children.

So I told them how it felt. Most of them understood and realized that they sometimes went overboard with the baby stuff. One friend got annoyed and felt like she shouldn't have to avoid talking about what was the most important thing that had happened to her just because I didn't want to hear about it all the time. I had to remind her I didn't want her to stop talking about how great motherhood was for her. I just wanted her to occasionally talk about something else too. So for a couple of years, it was weird. I started doing things on my own because I didn't feel like trying to organize things around baby carriages or playgrounds.

Now the kids are getting older (a few new ones have arrived, one more on the way) and it's a little easier to meet. We don't see each other everyday like we used to but lately we've been trying to meet at least once a week so we can touch bases and reaffirm our Chicaness. Sometimes these meetings are kids-free, sometimes they aren't. But it's nice to have found a way back to one another even if we will probably never have that carefreeness that we had when we all first started hanging out together. But the nice thing about when we meet is that we talk, we give each other support, we are like sisters (or the sisters we wish we had).

Yesterday we had a nice chica chat at Vurma on Birger Jarlsgatan. It was one of those chica meetings that happens quite quickly and everythign falls into place very smoothly. Outside it was raining cats and dogs, but it was lovely to sit by the open window and feel the breeze, talk about our lives and enjoy good salads and sandwiches. While we were sitting there, I had this image of all of in our 60s, meeting, laughing, and being the same group of Chicas...it will be nice to grow old with these Chicas. :)

Oh, to be in Hagaparken

Today I was in the mood for a stroll in Hagaparken so, after a quick cup of java and a pastry at Thelins in Frösunda, I walked over to the park. Part of the reason I decided to go to the park was because I've been reading tons and tons of complaints about the fence being built around Haga Slott. For those of you who don't live in Sweden, HRH Victoria, Crown Princess of Sweden, and her husband-to-be Daniel Westling will be moving into Haga Slott following their wedding on 19 June. The press (and lots of people who probably never walk in Hagaparken anyway) have been complaining about the fence being built for the crown princess's protection. Many have said there would be no way to walk around the fence--that it cut off the paths near the water and that people would no longer have access to Ekotempel and Gustav III's Pavillion. Well, having walked in that area today I can safely say that these stories are not true.

Yes, there is a fence around the castle and its grounds. No, Gustav III's Pavillion is not behind the fence--it's still open to the public as usual. The same is true for Ekotempel. Ditto for the paths along the water. In fact, the paths are better now, plus street lamps are being installed there so it will feel safer for those who like evening strolls. Also, new trees were being planted and the park felt much cleaner and nicer than it has in a while. What's interesting is that now that news of the Crown Princess soon taking up residence in the castle has spread, more tourists seem to be finding their way to the park, which is great. I have always loved Hagapark and I am glad that our foreign visitors are finally discovering it too. If you're in the mood to explore the park but don't know where to start, take a look at this map, which I found on SFV's website. It gives an overview of what you can find in this lovely English-style park. For more information on the park, check out this link.

Fjärilshuset is a gem in the park. I went there today, though just to sit for a while in the café and have a glass of juice before continuing my walk. The Butterfly House is a great place for anyone who loves butterflies and the wonder of having something akin to a rainforest in the middle of a park in chilly Stockholm. For the most part, it's perfect as it is. However, they really should improve their boutique. Most of what was for sale was very kitschy (and not in a good way). But I can overlook that since the butterflies and plants in Fjärilshuset are so magical.

I spent a little over an hour strolling today, enjoying the beauty of the park and its nature. It was the perfect way to end the weekend, even if it was a bit cloudy today.

By the way, the image above was taken by Holger Ellgaard. I forgot my camera at home...

Spring has sprung...

Today is one of those days when I love living in Stockholm. After the initial grumpy reaction to what appeared to be another gray day, I was pleasantly surprised by a suddenly blue sky filled with spring sunshine. And a day like that means only one thing: Kafé Sjöstugan. Now, those of you who don't know about Sjöstugan, it's a quaint little café in Bergshamra on the shores of Brunnsviken. Tord and I like walking there whenever the weather is good and sitting in the sunshine with a cinnamon bun and a cup of coffee. You feel like you're in the countryside without actually having to be in the countryside. It's nice. Today was a nice, calm day--no snarky people in sight (always a good thing) and ducks waddling around quacking.

We could see evidence that spring has arrived--unfortunately I forgot my camera at home otherwise I would have posted a few pictures of sage beginning to become green again, tulips sprouting and crocuses in all their finery. The winter ice on Brunnsviken is receding and becoming a memory. Ducks and swans have returned. It was just a lovely afternoon. I almost dread when it gets warmer and the "weird" people show up--the girls from Östermalm who are "slumming it", who show up in stilettos and complain about their heels sinking in the soil, obnoxious porkchops (boys with oily-looking, slicked back hair who usually hang out around Stureplan) who brag in too-loud voices about their boats and VIP cards. Luckily, it's not that often when these "weird people" show up--but when they do, they disturb this idyllic little place. I like it when people from the area are there, people who go there because they like that the buns aren't always the same size, who come there because it is a place that sells organic products and who like the mismatched cups, who like the ducks and don't go "Üsch!" everytime something like a bumblebee or a sparrow comes near them.

Soon it'll be perfect weather for a long, long walk around Hagapark. And soon it'll be perfect boule weather. Ooh....and barbecuing...I am longing for that. :)

But for now, I am still wearing a fleece jacket and a scarf, longing for the day I can put on my shorts and sandals and enjoy a glass of rosé outdoors.

Spring...ahhh!

YA Fiction and What I've Been Reading Lately

Lately I've been reading a lot of young adult fiction as research for a possible novel. Prior to getting this idea in my head a few months ago that I might want to try my hand at writing for the YA crowd, I hadn't really ready any books intended for that audience in ages--more like not since I was a YA.

What I remember of YA books from the late 1980s was that they were generally poorly written and were usually set in Sweet Valley, which was not my cup of tea at all. I didn't care about those Sweet Valley High teens with their perfect suburban lives. I wanted gritty fiction back then but it wasn't very easy to find. So I abandoned the notion of reading YA books pretty early and focused on horror fiction, mystery novels, anything I could get my hands on....and then one day I read Milan Kundera and I forgot all about the other books for a while. I had a holy trinity of writers back then: Milan Kundera -- Toni Morrison -- Ernest Hemingway. Actually, it was more a Holy Rectangle if you added Gabriel Garcia Marquez to the mix. So, my path to literary fiction was set and I turned into a literary snob (though I read frothy romance novels and chick lit in "secret").

And then one day, I sat trying to read a new Milan Kundera novel and the unthinkable happened--I was bored. I tried to read a Toni Morrison novel and couldn't get past the fourth chapter. I tried to read True at First Light (the "lost" Hemingway novel that his son edited and finished) and it did nothing for me. The only member of the Holy Rectangle who still swayed me was Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and I started wondering if it was only because he looks a little like my dad--now that's a weird notion. But I began reading more and more "pop fiction" and realized I preferred it to literary fiction and I abandoned my Holy Rectangle for a time.

Nowadays, I read everything. And this foray into reading contemporary YA fiction has been enlightening. Some of it is really good. Courtney Summers' Some Girls Are was one of those books that I couldn't stop reading. Maybe it was because it reminded me too much of how awful being a teenager can sometimes be. Jacqueline Woodson's If You Come Softly is also great. I loved how she portrayed the main characters, Jeremiah and Ellie, and their struggle to deal with their feelings for one another and how it affects the people around them.

I also read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series but I just wasn't that impressed. I thought Bella was whiny and annoying. I thought Edward was a control freak with issues. I thought Jacob was snarky. I only went to see the movie because I figured it would be interesting to see if the characters were less annoying. The only thing I can say is Rob Pattinson is fit. I understand why girls scream for him. I know a lot of people try to say Twilight is a take on Wuthering Heights but I don't see that. And I don't buy glittering vampires nor stupid names for kids like Renesmee. I think Stephenie Meyer's The Host is a much better novel, though it drags at times. Still, I enjoyed it more than the entire Twilight series.

But back to YA fiction, I noticed that nearly all the YA fiction geared at black and Latino teenagers dealt with what are perceived as urban issues: teen pregnancy, drugs, gang violence, being abandoned by a parent. And this made me wonder just how many black and Latino teens really want to read about those issues. When I was a teen living in West Philadelphia/University City, I wasn't that interested in reading about drugs when I could see evidence of drug abuse around me--crack addicts were everywhere, all you had to do was take a walk along 40th Street and you'd inevitably see a few. Even though I wanted something gritty, I didn't want to be reminded of what was already around me. And it made me feel like publishing companies assume that all black and Latino kids live in big cities and are only interested in books warning us of the dangers of drugs, gangs, etc.

How about a book about a black kid trying to get into college? That was my teen experience. I lived a few blocks from my dream school and did everything I could to be accepted there but received a rejection letter anyway. I wasn't interested in what was going on around me in my neighborhood--I lived there but I knew I was going to leave there. So I have been looking for a YA novel that speaks to that teen experience but I haven't seen anything yet. I'll keep looking. Maybe I just have to write that book myself.

It's also interesting how few YA novels deal with interracial relationships, which is surprising considering that these relationships seem more prevalent (and accepted) among teenagers than adults. Is it because many authors are afraid of taking on the issue for fear of negative criticism? Or are the publishing companies playing it too safe? Or have I just simply not been looking in the right places?Well, maybe I will have to write one of these books myself.

I just have to finish writing the book I am working on at the moment before I launch into another project. But I do think that my next writing project will be a YA novel. I already have an idea forming and I've taken some notes. Who knows where it will lead me but I am glad that I found some YA novels that proved we've moved beyond Sweet Valley Hell when it comes to what teens are reading.

I also found a publishing company called Flux that specializes in YA fiction. I've read two books published by Flux, Ballad and Lament by Maggie Stiefvater, and they were riveting. Stiefvater's third book, Shiver, was published by Scholastic Press, which will also be publishing a sequel to Shiver called Linger in July. I loved Shiver. I thought Grace and Sam's story was heartbreaking. I could picture it in my mind and imagined which actors I saw playing the roles. But I am sure if they ever make a movie of it I will be disappointed with whichever actors are chosen--unless of course they are the same ones I imagined. But back to the book, it was so beautifully written, and whenever people try to sing the merits of Twilight to me, I just say one word: Shiver.

So I am anxiously awaiting Linger and trying to finish my own book, which I've decided I will probably self-publish, and trying to keep myself from starting another book. But I am also glad that YA fiction has moved away from the squeaky clean cheerleader type stories of my youth and on to more interesting subjects, even if I am tired of seeing books about black teens affected by gangs (which isn't the only experience black teens have, Mr and Mrs Publisher -- some of us were never affected by gangs at all and would love to read about something other than "urban issues"). At least we're seeing something other than the cookie cutter YA novels of my youth.