Juno

I saw it a week ago, but I am still experiencing "Juno" afterglow. I'd been prepared for letdown and overhype, but really it's exactly as advertised: witty, wisecracking, sweet - this year's "Little Miss Sunshine." Now we are listening to the soundtrack constantly, and I am humming that "I am a Vampire" song that sounds like a fourteen-year-old and her friends are singing it in her bedroom.

And I've gotten over my brief spate of envy/fascination with the screenwriter Diablo Cody. She did write a great script. It was nice to go to the movie and feel like, hats off, Diablo! Because I simply hate feeling envious of anyone.

So, not at all envious, I have been reading now about Stephenie Meyer because I am just about to start "Eclipse" and for the procrasintation-inclined there are interviews with her everywhere. ("Eclipse"? Stephenie Meyer - surely these references to the gazillion-selling author of the "Twilight" series do not need to be explained.) And, if I were to be envious, the reasons would be that she has three kids, managed to write three great big satisfying books that are somehow not tired vampire re-treads, and seemed to do it without breaking a sweat. And, as I'm trying to finish revising "The Wolves and the Wood," the sweat, unfortunately, is pouring off me in gallons. In rivers. If I updated my photo it would show me in, like, head-to-toe sweatbands. And that would be very gross, so I won't.