This Is My Secret: The Blog and Website of Writer Kristin Cashore

In France, in order to protect women from being oppressed by Muslim men who tell them what to wear, white men with guns force women to take their clothes off. I have so much fury and contempt for this racism, Islamophobia, and misogyny disguised as "liberation" and "secular values" that I don't even have enough room in my head for it. By writer Suhaiymah Manzoor-Khan at the Independent: Dear white people of France: being forced to undress wasn't exactly the liberation I was longing for. "It seems that oppression is only when brown men tell you how to dress; when white men do it it’s called liberation. But even French feminism has its roots in colonialism and imperialism."

At the Guardian: Texas has highest maternal mortality rate in developed world, study finds. "As the Republican-led state legislature has slashed funding to reproductive healthcare clinics, the maternal mortality rate doubled over just a two-year period."

In nicer news,…

One day this past week, I sat on the ledge of the footbridge while the sun was setting, with my feet hanging over the water. There was a little old lady watching the sunset next to me (she was not on the ledge), and I thought to myself, Oh, that's the kind of little old lady I want to be someday, the kind who comes out to watch the sunset. I was wearing a long blue dress and tall black boots. Suddenly she came over and told me that if I were to fall in, my boots would present a serious problem. I laughed and said, "That's a good point," but then I looked at her closer and realized she was Not Joking. She was a very sour person and she seemed certain that I was going to fall into the river and my boots would drag me straight down to the bottom and I would drown while she stood above me triumphantly yelling, "I told you so!" We had a brief conversation (*cough* argument), during which I remained pleasant, even though she was essentially telling me I was a yo…

I'm almost always in the process of reading a book; often I'm reading two. It's not unusual for me to be reading three. (There's also a scattering of a half-dozen books that I read at the pace of a snail across years, but I'm not counting those here – I'm talking about books I'm actively reading now with the intention of finishing them soonish.) That's usually my limit, and when I'm reading three books, two of them will almost certainly be either nonfiction or short stories; I rarely read more than one novel at the same time.

Right now, however, I'm in a few days of taking a break from all writing, which means I have more time to read. I am also preparing, in invisible ways, for the next bunch of writing – which means I'm finding myself drawn to more nonfiction than is usual for me. Putting together the pleasure reading, the reading that is obligated for various reasons, and the reading specifically directed toward informing my writing, I&#…

For years he knows not the land; so that when he comes to it at last, it smells like another world, more strangely than the moon would to an Earthsman. With the landless gull, that at sunset folds her wings and is rocked to sleep between billows; so at nightfall, the Nantucketer, out of sight of land, furls his sails, and lays him to his rest, while under his very pillow rush herds of walruses and whales.
I'm listening to and loving Recorded Books' production of Moby-Dick, narrated by Frank Muller. It's over 21 hours long! I tune in and out as I'm listening, perhaps starting back to attention to find that it's been fifteen minutes and Ishmael is STILL listing white things (!!!) (see "Chapter 42: The Whiteness of the Whale"), tuning out again, then sitting straight upright as Melville says something so beautiful I could die. I read this book in college, I wrote a paper about it. What a pleasure to enjoy it for itself and be allowed to space out when I wan…

A ferry story in 26 pictures requires a jump break. Click on "read more" below to see the rest.

This No Blogging thing is intensely peaceful, but I thought I'd break in with a few things that've been piling up.

First, the Horn Book Magazine asked me what's the strangest children's book I've ever read... so I wrote them a little piece about Moomins. If you can't get your hands on the current (March/April 2013) issue but want to read my words, follow the link.

Next, the recent This American Life episode "Reruns" -- about people stuck in a particular moment -- was all-around great, but I especially adored the final act, in which Sarah Vowell discusses people who inappropriately equate themselves with Rosa Parks. Vowell is so dry and funny and CORRECT. Follow the link to listen.

Finally, underwater photojournalist Brian Skerry's TED talk contains some spectacular photos, and also some hope for our oceans.  Press play.

I've been rather itinerant for the last week or so... did some visiting, some birthday celebrating, and so much reading that you'd think I'd be reading in my dreams. Instead, I had a dream that Shah Rukh Khan raided my suitcase, stole my pants, wore them in a rainstorm and ruined them. This is nearly as random as the dream I had once that Eminem was my boyfriend: when he came to visit, my father chased him around the house in a rage. Or the dream I had last night that I found a pair of glasses, needed to know whose they were, and hired a private investigator to find out. The role of the private investigator was played by Matt Damon. This is usually the situation when actors appear in my dreams -- the actors appear not as themselves but playing the role of someone else. Not the case with Shah Rukh. He was himself when he stole my pants. The nerve!

Anyway. Itinerant. I went on a whale watch, with 7 Seas Whale Watch in Gloucester, Massachusetts. (The link automatically…

Forget your perfect offering.There is a crack in everything -- That's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen

It has been a lovely few days.
The photo shoot on Thursday was an absolute hoot, thanks to my photographer, Jensen Hande, who has a great personality and knows just how to coax out my inner warrior and my inner wimp. (Not that the wimp took much coaxing.) Hopefully I'll have some pics to share soon to show you what I mean!
On Friday I went to the sea. I don't do this too much in the summer, because it's too hot and crowded. But Friday was stormy and cool (a relative term here), and well, I just felt like it, so I went. It's a 20 mile drive, and parts of that drive are icky and never to be attempted during rush hour, but other parts are beautiful with tall bridges that shoot you off into the sky, and water water everywhere, and big boats. I LOVE big boats.
And when I got to the sea, there was a rainbow!
I had a wonderful walk and sang at the top of my lungs a…