Ok, I realize I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but in case you didn’t already know it, Sarah Palin, McCain’s VP pick, is a big defender of the aerial hunting of wolves. That’s when people fly around in airplanes picking off as many wolves as they can. In order to encourage more wolf kills, she’s offered a $150 bounty for every left foreleg of a wolf brought in by wolf shooters in certain areas. (I won’t call them hunters—hunters have a code of ethics that seems to be completely lacking in these drive bys).

Palin is not only threat to wolves, but also a threat to the environment as a whole. Rodger Schlickeisen, president of Defenders of Wildlife Action Fund, says that Palin:

“has repeatedly put special interests first when it comes to the environment. In her scant two years as governor, she has lobbied aggressively to open up the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge to drilling, pushed for more drilling off of Alaska’s coasts, and put special interests above science. Ms. Palin has made it clear through her actions that she is unwilling to do even as much as the Bush administration to address the impacts of global warming. Her most recent effort has been to sue the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to remove the polar bear from the endangered species list, putting Big Oil before sound science. As unbelievable as this may sound, this actually puts her to the right of the Bush administration.”

‘nuff said. You all know what another four years of Cheney-esque environmental policy will do to our world. But pass it along to anyone who might not.

So the two hundred or so storylines, themes, plot drivers and ideas are now more or less tamed into three major storylines. Very pleased about that because three major threads are ideal for me. Fewer than that, and I feel like the story is too flat. More than that, the story gets muddled. When you have three story threads, it makes it easier to weave everything together. So the book now looks like this:

Which is great because this morning it looked like this:

So definitely an improvement. I had three of my writing buddies over today for an impromptu write-in, and we all got a lot done. I forsook my computer and sat on the living room floor, moving little pieces of index cards around and scribbling on different sized sheets of paper. I have to remind myself that sometimes working with pen and paper is better for me than a keyboard and mouse. Sometimes computers are just too small, and my brain needs the expanse of a living room rug.

The wolves are getting a bit impatient with all this structure and are going to start chewing on my toes if I don’t let them run free soon. So a couple more days of plot-wrangling, and then I get to go back to actually writing.

I’m getting so many lovely emails from people asking when Book Two will be coming along, so I thought I’d share a bit about where it is now. This first picture is where book two was yesterday.

That’s all of the themes, major plot points, character drivers, conflicts, and random ideas that have come from the work I’ve done so far. When I work on a book, I’ll write for awhile, then deconstruct what I’ve written, then reconstruct it. In the photo above, the themes, plot points, etc, are spread randomly across the two tables, and there are some on a trunk and on my futon as well.

This second photo is where the book is tonight.

It’s all the themes, etc, reconstructed and pasted on the French doors that lead to my storage closet. I find it immensely satisfying to stand and look at them and see the ideas pulsing and mixing and morphing and starting to come together. As chaotic as it seems (ok, as chaotic as it is), I can actually start to see the threads connecting all the random thoughts from my head. I really do see them as threads—multicolored, luminescent threads appearing and disappearing as they weave together wolf conflicts and mythology and raven pranks and evolutionary theory and longfangs. Now I’ll a need is a magic wand so I can tap it against all these words and turn them into a book.

So that’s what’s up now. Isn’t it a pretty book?

On July 18th, a judge in Missoula, Montana granted a preliminary injunction placing gray wolves in the Northern Rockies region back under federal protection until a court case challenging the removal of wolves from the federal list of endangered species is decided. This is in answer to a lawsuit filed by Earth Justice on behalf of a coalition of nonprofit groups challenging the decision by US Fish and Wildlife to take these wolves off the endangered species list. This is an incredible victory for the wolves, whose recovery was threatened by plans by the states of Idaho, Wyoming and Montana to cull up to 80% of the wolves in the regions. The fight’s not over yet, as this is only a temporary reprieve, but it’s wonderful news for the continued recovery of wolves.

Here are some links to articles about this decision (thanks to Alec for help with the links!):

Defenders of Wildlife's press release

and an article from The Missoulan

So I’ve read a couple of places now that I dislike or disapprove of wolf-dog owners and breeders, which is not the case at all, so lemme set the record straight. I have nothing against RESPONSIBLE owners of wolf-dog hybrids. It is my understanding from talking to people who have and work with hybrids that, when properly raised and trained and treated with the respect that a partly wild animal deserves, they can be excellent companions and windows to the wild. I’ve met several lovely hybrids and look forward to meeting more.

That being said, owning a wolf-dog hybrid is not the same as owning a dog, and people who do not know what they are getting into end up either abandoning the hybrid, or not training it appropriately so that the hybrid can become dangerous. Either way the hybrid most likely ends up chained in a yard all day, or dead. So pretending that hybrids are just big cool-looking dogs, and that responsible ownership is not vital, does the hybrids no favors. And that is what I so strongly disapprove of.

Wolf-dog hybrids can sometimes be very docile (like my buddy Dante in my author photo, who is an Arctic wolf/some-kind-of-dog hybrid, and is quite motivated by treats) or sometimes can be more wild. Sometimes they have the hunting behavior of wolves without the fear of humans that wolves have, and sometimes this can be a dangerous combination if the hybrid is not properly handled. The thing is that you don’t know how the wolf DNA and dog DNA are going to combine (it doesn’t matter how much the hybrid does or doesn’t look like a wolf), so you don’t know what kind of hybrid you are going to get. So a person who breeds or acquires a hybrid must be prepared for intensive, ongoing training and constant monitoring and involvement. Otherwise you run the risk of hybrid that has the potential to be a danger to people. So you can’t just leave the hybrid in the yard and hope for the best. I do get angry when I hear of people who breed hybrids in substandard conditions, without training them properly and without monitoring what kind of homes they go to, or of owners who abandon or abuse their hybrids. On my ten-day book tour I heard three stories of hybrids who were put down because people couldn’t care for them or because the hybrid was not handled properly and bit someone. Owning a dog is a huge responsibility. Owning a hybrid is that times ten.

So that’s my stand. Responsible, intelligent wolf-dog ownership: fine. Irresponsible, boneheaded breeding and ownership of hybrids that result in harm to said animal, or harm to a person: bad.

When I found out that I was going to be reading my first novel at Cody’s, it was quite literally a dream come true. Many times as I toiled away, hoping I could finish and then sell my first book, I often daydreamed about it. Even after getting a book deal and seeing the book in print, the Cody’s reading was something special. So Friday morning as I flew in from Seattle at the end of the first leg of my book tour, I could hardly contain my excitement as I thought about that night’s reading at Cody’s. As I unlocked my front door and hauled my bag into my apartment, I got the call. I would not be doing a reading at Cody’s that night, because Cody’s had closed its doors.

For good. Just like that. After 52 years and countless lives changed.

I began spending a lot of time in Cody’s in 1984. When I was supposed to be studying, or when the stress and trials of my freshman year at Berkeley got to be too much, I would escape from my dorm and race down Telegraph Avenue into one of the best refuges there ever was. Cody’s was a book lover's dream. Shelves and shelves of books on every topic imaginable. I still remember what it felt like to walk into that store. A deep lungful of air after not breathing for too long. Outside, the worries and pressures of my life. Inside, the world of stories and ideas and thoughts of the future. They were used to students with thin wallets in that store, and no one ever seemed to mind that I would wander around for an hour and come out with one paperback--or with nothing other than ideas and joy. I learned to value books and bookstores at places like Cody’s, so that in later years when I did have money to spend, independent bookstores were the first places I went. I’m a writer today at least in part because of independent bookstores like Cody’s, and I’m sure I’m not alone.

I waited outside Cody’s a few minutes before my reading was scheduled to make sure to intercept any of my friends who might not have received my frantic email about the cancellation. I watched as people came by, and tried to open the door. They tried once, twice, three times. Then saw the sign on the door saying only that Cody’s was closed. Then they tried the door again. Then cupped their hands around their eyes to peer in the window, trying to see if anyone was there. No one believed the sign. It couldn’t be true. Not just like that. Not Cody’s. It was so incredible that people didn’t trust the evidence. There must be some mistake, they all seemed to be thinking.

I thought of all sorts of things to say here. That we need to support the independent bookstores we have left. That we need to spend our money at Book Passage, and Kepler’s and Stacey’s and Rakestraw, at Powell’s and Tattered Cover, and at Village Books. That we need to fight the complacency and cynicism that lead us to say, “of course independent bookstores are closing, it’s the way the market is going.” But we all know that already. So I guess I’m just saying that I’m sad Cody’s is gone. And yet. The day after Cody’s closed I bought a hardcover at Black Oak. And since have done the same at Book Passage, Stacey’s and at Kepler’s. I have to admit it’s not because of any highly moral decision to shop locally and support independent bookstores for the sake of changing the book industry. I did it because I don’t want them to go away. Because when I walk into one of those bookstores I have the same feeling I had when I was eighteen. The same deep breath of air, the same shrugging off of stress and weariness. The same joy. And because I don’t want that to end.

Day two at the International Wolf Center was pretty phenomenal. Got to see the pups eating their first deer clavicle, and the adult wolves eating an entire deer. Pretty cool if you’re into that kind of thing. Then a nice hike in the lovely Ely area. Bitten by some pretty nasty flies, which apparently don’t suck your blood like mosquitoes and other respectable insects, but actually take a chunk out of you. Seemed somehow fitting to be watching the wolves have their meal, and then becoming someone else’s meal myself. I just ate pizza that night.