me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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orchids

Pretty Cure

Among girls in Japan, the most popular cartoon (=anime) these days is an action show about two adolescent girls who are given superpowers. Schoolgirls by day, when they invoke these powers they become "Cure Black" and "Cure White," together known as "Pretty Cure." I have a feeling this is a particularly egregious translation: for one thing, the Japanese likely means something closer to "fix" or "solve" than "cure." Anyone out there know these characters, and their Japanese name? In any case, they're in charge of fighting evil beings who are after the rainbow-hued jewels of life. One of the astounding, to me, things about Pretty Cure is that, in the normal way of things, they're normal schoolgirls in practical schoolgirl uniforms; but when they invoke their powers and become superheroes, their superhero uniforms emerge: puff-sleeved neo-Victorian girly-girl frocks, in which they bash and clobber all manner of evil monsters. It's an expression of the "kawaii" (=cute) culture in Japanese art; if you're interested you might want to look at Takashi Murakami, on of Japan's most famous artists.

And how do I know about Pretyy Cure, anyway? I spent yesterday afternoon at the "Tokyo Festa" in Grand Central Station, in Vanderbilt Hall. (For NYers, that's the original waiting room, where the Xmas market is held.) Brought to you by the Tokyo tourism bureau, the Festa included a traditional games booth, a portable shrine, a terrific calligraphy demonstration by a famous woman calligrapher who painted huge characters with black paint full of multi-colored sparkles on 8-foot vertical panels; taiko drumming; and lots of anime. The only thing lacking was food, although they had a tableful of those fabulous plastic fakes that restaurants put in their windows. But not to worry: between events I went downstairs to the Dining Concourse and had some pickled-vegetable rolls from the fast-food Japanese joint.

Can you tell I'm between books?


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