Little Free Libraries

If you've read my books (or browsed this blog), you know how much I love libraries. In fact, I credit the library in my hometown of Sylva, North Carolina, with keeping me out of juvie for seventeen years. (When I get bored, I start causing trouble. Just ask my mom.) The subjects I discovered at the Sylva library are the same ones that continue to fascinate me. (Ghosts, reincarnation, Bigfoot, aliens, mythology, sinister secret societies.) Even the old movies they showed on Tuesdays have been feeding my imagination for decades. (Brigadoon, The Hound of the Baskervilles, Bringing Up Baby, and my all-time favorite . . . the original Clash of the Titans.)

These days, every time I step into a library, my brain begins to tingle. I can't help but imagine that there's some strange, magical book tucked away in the stacks, just waiting for me to discover it.

This morning, I felt a similar sensation when I stumbled across an article about an amazing organization/movement called Little Free Libraries. The idea is super simple. You build a little library (like the one shown above), fill it with the books you love, and let your neighbors borrow them.

Just imagine . . . You're young, bored, and up to no good. (As I often was.) You're wandering around, looking for mischief when you happen to spot an unusual structure just off the path, half-hidden by trees. Turns out, there's a library where you'd never have expected to find one. You have no idea who built it. (Book-loving wood sprites? A wise, cave-dwelling hermit? Aliens who happen to speak the same language that you do?) You take a peek over your shoulder. No one is watching. So you open the door and find the library is filled with weird and wonderful books that you suddenly can't wait to read.

Want to change a kid's life? That's one way to do it.

Maybe I'll build my own library. (This is my Year of Adventure.) I wonder what my Brooklyn neighbors would think.

In the meantime, if you have started your own Little Free Library, and you would like to include a copy of Kiki Strike, send a picture of your library to kikistrike@gmail.com, and I'll send you a book. (Offer only good until I go broke.)

Adventure #5: Dead Horse Bay

(Above: Can you believe this picture was taken in BROOKLYN?)

A couple of weeks ago, I received a Facebook message from a pen pal of mine who lives in Toronto. She said she'd be coming to New York this month and asked if I'd be in town. I think she probably had a pleasant cup of coffee in mind. I proposed an ADVENTURE.

Only a gutsy individual would hop in a car with a crazy writer she's never met face-to-face and set off for a secluded site known as Dead Horse Bay. But Lauren is a true Irregular, and she was eager for a glimpse of the "dark side" of New York. (Although I bet she had a roll of duct tape in her bag, just in case I turned out to be even nuttier than my blog would suggest.)

In retrospect, it would have been cruel to take anyone but a Canadian. The weather seems to turn brutal every time I seek adventure outdoors. It was bitterly cold yesterday, and only a hardy soul from the frozen north could have enjoyed (or survived) a day at the beach.

Dead Horse Bay lies on the southeastern shore of Brooklyn. It earned its name back in the nineteenth century when the beach was lined with horse-rendering and fish oil-processing plants. Until the twentieth century, it was accessible only by boat. Not that you would have wanted to visit in those days. The stench was said to be nauseating.

When cars replaced buggies on New York's streets, there were fewer horses to render. (Yuck.) So the marsh surrounding Dead Horse Bay became a garbage dump.

Today, the beach is covered in two centuries worth of trash. (And horse bones.) So why was I so eager to see it? Well one person's trash is an amateur archaeologist's home decor. Apparently visitors find all sorts of interesting bric-a-brac washed up on the shores of Dead Horse Bay. (Creepy old dolls. Lovely nineteenth-century glassware. Horse teeth.)

The most interesting thing I found was the bottle pictured below. The red, gelatinous contents looked like something out of a mad scientist's lab. Not exactly the kind of objet that I'd want to display on my mantle. The horseshoe crab shell could have made a nice conversation piece. (It was HUGE. The photo doesn't do it justice.) But after I'd spotted some of the revolting 21st century garbage littering the beach, (which would make you think twice about what you flush down the toilet), I wasn't in the mood for gathering souvenirs.

Our visit took place during high tide, and the pickings are said to be better when the water recedes. Unfortunately, low tide would have been around 6pm yesterday, and Dead Horse Bay is not a place you want to be after dark. It has to be one of the most isolated spots in all of New York. It's quiet and beautiful (aside from the garbage). The only person we encountered during the visit was a park ranger at the Floyd Bennett Field parking lot. By the time we reached the beach, he couldn't have heard us if we'd felt the need to scream.

So if you go to Dead Horse Bay, wear thick-soled boots (there's broken glass everywhere), take rubber gloves, and don't go alone. (Even though the bench shown above seems perfect for solitary contemplation.) And if you go during the winter, be sure to haul a Canadian along for the ride. (Kidding, Lauren. Thanks for keeping me company! You are a true adventurer.)

Click here for more about Dead Horse Bay, and check out the video below.

A Living Museum Of Trash from The Brooklyn Ink on Vimeo.

Adventure #5: Dead Horse Bay

The name isn't a joke. Check in tomorrow! This one is going to be a REAL adventure!

Adventure #4: Night at the Museum

(Above: Not interested in helping your love life.)

I'm afraid I didn't experience much in the way of adventure Wednesday night. Though it was very cool to be inside the American Museum of Natural History after hours. I'm pretty sure I could have slipped off into one of the exhibits while no one was watching. (How amazing would it be to roam the dinosaur wing in the dark? Or sneak through the Hall of Minerals, with all of its glow-in-the-dark rocks?)

Alas, I am a law abiding citizen. Yawn. Maybe I'll go back for one of the private night tours they offer. (But I gotta say, the AMNH is expensive. I've been there a few times already this year, and I think I could have purchased my own dinosaur with the money I've spent on admission.)

The aphrodisiac lecture was interesting, and the woman who gave it (Francine Segan) seemed quite charming. They handed out wine and chocolate. So I'm not inclined to complain.

Most of the "aphrodisiacs" discussed were examples of "sympathetic magic." (Which would be a great name for a book.) If a food resembled something "naughty," the ancients often assumed it could work some magic when it came time for lovin'. I'd give you a few examples, but I'm pretty sure it's not necessary.

(Above: Sliced antler.)

Other "aphrodisiacs" (many still used today) are the organs or body parts of animals that are known for their vim and vigor. Rhinos, tigers, bears, sharks, and stags have all been sacrificed in the name of love. It's one of the reasons that rhino, tiger, and shark populations have been decimated in recent decades.

I guess I was expecting a little less magic and a little more science. I've eaten enough figs in my life to doubt their magical properties. (Though they are delicious. There's a fig tart in one of Segan's books that I must make and consume as soon as possible.) And if you've ever seen a picture of a rhino that's been killed for its horn, you know why I'd rather stick with herbs.

Of course if you go online, and you can find herbal remedies for any condition. Doctors in other cultures have been practicing herbal medicine for thousands of years. The first Chinese book on the subject may have been written as early as 2700BC. Thumb through a few ancient texts, and you'll probably find hundreds of "aphrodisiacs." But here's something to ponder: Most of those books were written by men. And men and women might expect different things from an aphrodisiac. (Just a hunch.)

However, in Europe during the Middle Ages herbal remedies were often the province of "wise-women." And I bet one of those ladies knew exactly what to sprinkle in the soup if you were keen to catch a certain gentleman's eye. Unfortunately, the "wise-woman" profession became much less desirable when its practitioners began to be burned as witches. Who knows how much knowledge died with them. A few of the old recipes must have survived, of course. That's why I wonder if the best place to look for a female-friendly aphrodisiac might be a "witchcraft" shop.

I don't believe in magic. (Although one of my female ancestors was hanged for witchcraft.) But I do believe there are many things that modern science can't yet explain. So maybe I'll check out one of the witchcraft supply stores here in New York. I'm not really in the market for an aphrodisiac, but I love an experiment. However, if I find a "potion" that works, I'll be far more likely to thank chemistry than magic.

Woolly Mammoth Filmed in Siberia?

A Russian engineer claims to have filmed this creature last summer in a little populated region in Siberia. Is it a mammoth? Or a bear with a fish in its mouth?

I'll be honest. It would make my whole week if this turned out to be footage of a mammoth. (Though I'm not entirely sure that it is. The source was The Sun, a tabloid that isn't exactly famed for its journalistic integrity.)

I was recently asked to write an essay for an anthology, and I chose to argue for the existence of Bigfoot. The essay is quite humorous (in my opinion), but I do believe that there may be large creatures out there that we've yet to discover. I also hope, for their sake, that they stay out of sight. I bet there are thousands of rich guys out there who would love to hang a mammoth head on the wall.

More on the mammoth at cryptomundo.

Adventure #4: I Can Make You Love Me

(Above: Collecting frog spit can be challenging.)

Yeah, I know. The Year of Adventure has gotten off to a rather slow start. Here's the problem . . . I may have mentioned that I recently had an idea for a great new book. Well I've been outlining the opus for the past week or so. And once I get into a project, I find it hard to tear myself away. Particularly when the project is as awesome as this one. Let's just say that I've always wanted to write a ghost/horror story. (I read The Shining when I was 10, and I haven't slept with the lights off since.)

But I have every intention of getting back on track with my YOA. So this week, I'm going to have TWO adventures. Tomorrow, I shall be attending a lecture/food tasting at the American Museum of Natural History (quite possibly the greatest place on earth). The topic? APHRODISIACS: MYTH OR REALITY. Questions I expect to be answered include: If I sprinkle a little frog saliva on my favorite recipe (tuna casserole), will I seem irresistible to my dining companion? When concocting a philter, are there any good substitutes for rhinoceros horn (since I would NEVER, EVER want a rhino to come to any harm)? And how can I use what I learn to take over the world for the good of all mankind?

Don't worry. I'll tweet the answers. (Though possibly after the lecture. Might be kinda rude to type when I'm supposed to be listening. And I certainly don't want to miss anything. We'll see.)

Then, this weekend, a friend and I will be setting off on another fabulous adventure. The details haven't been ironed out yet, but I'll be posting about Adventure #5 soon!

Monstrous Rats, Underground Rivers and Kids Who Can See in the Dark

(Above: Long-exposure photo of fireflies. More here. I wish I could buy one of these photos! So beautiful.)

Whew! I'm finished! (For the moment.) Time to get back to my year of adventure. Still gotta figure out what I'll be doing this week. But in the meantime, I have a few things I'd like to share. I've been hoarding links for quite a while now, and I need to start posting my discoveries here on the blog. (So I can clear out my cluttered bookmarks menu.) Watch out. There's a lot of weirdness coming your way!

1. This is pretty amazing. The boy in the video below can see clearly in perfect darkness. Apparently his eyes (which are a rather unusual color) also "shine in the dark" the way cats' eyes do. I don't think (as the title of the video suggests) that he's an "alien starchild." However, I do believe that he would make a pretty amazing cat burglar. Or superhero. Or spy. And I am very, very jealous.



2. Ever chuckle in disbelief when you hear tales of "giant rats?" Yeah, well, it's time to stop laughing. Several truly monstrous rodents have been discovered in New York in the past few months. Here's the proof. I've seen other pictures, but they were too gruesome to post. (Warning: The rat you'll see if you click the link is no longer among the living.)

3. A group of "Guerrilla Grafters" has been turning the trees that line public streets into fruit-bearing trees. Yes, this is possible. It's also illegal. And very cool.

4. Are you aware that there's an underground river beneath London? Wanna see some amazing pictures? (BTW, Retronaut is a pretty great site.) Some day I'll work the River Fleet into a book.

5. Made from 21% "snail extract," Super Aqua Cell Renew Snail Cream is a popular skin-care product on the other side of the globe. You'll be happy to know that the snails are "fed red ginseng" and "raised in Korea" in order to produce quality slime.

Life Gets in the Way

(Above: The first rule of adventure: Make sure you pack more than a bra. Though I doubt that author and I define "adventuress" the same way.)

So I had to postpone my seance! I'm slaving away on revisions for my latest (non-Kiki) book, and I haven't had time for anything else. But I'm hoping I'll be finished by this weekend--just in time for ADVENTURE! The seance may even be back on. (It depends on whether my guests are still available. You didn't think I was planning to chat to a ghost by myself, did you?!)

I'll be back with an update soon. In the meantime, would one of you PLEASE go have an adventure for me?

Actually, that reminds me . . . A very good friend of mine recently returned from a remarkable African adventure. He was on a small plane that crashed in the middle of Namibia. He then had to walk over four miles through a national park to get help. A park filled with lions, rhinos, and other unfriendly beasts. I'll see if I can convince him to write the whole story himself. It's pretty incredible!

Adventure #3: The Mistake

(Above: We'll get to the subject of seances in a moment.)

Last week I found myself on an unexpected adventure. I didn't blog or tweet about it, but it may have been the most important adventure I'll have all year. I made a mistake. A big, potentially life-altering mistake. I trusted someone I shouldn't have trusted, and I found myself facing some rather terrible consequences. But then something miraculous happened. The universe set me free.

I've never been the kind of person who sees the value in making mistakes. If anything, I've always been a little too cautious. But this experience has taught me an important lesson. And it's not necessarily one I expected to learn. I've discovered that "failure" can be a wonderful thing. I think we learn more about ourselves--and the world--by failing than we do by succeeding. So I'm not afraid of making mistakes anymore. In fact, I plan to make more of them. Because I know that as long as I stay true to myself, I won't go too far wrong.

Maybe this will sound a bit hokey, but I feel like I've finally absorbed the message that I've been hiding in my books. (It's there, in all six of them. You don't even have to look hard to find it.) Never, ever, be anyone but yourself.

So as I continue my year of adventure, I'll make sure I never leave home without the following . . .

Two Eyes (Wide Open)
Duct Tape (Of Course)
A Clever Disguise
An Unquenchable Curiosity
A Smart Phone with GPS (Because I Do Love a Good Map)
An Unshakable Faith in Myself

Maybe it came as a result of my new outlook on life. (Or maybe it was just a spot of good luck.) But something else happened last week. An idea popped into my head. And yep, it's for a new book. I'm pretty excited about it. So excited that I'm going to start writing this morning.

Then, later this evening tomorrow evening, I'm going to embark on Adventure 3.5. All our talk about seances has gotten me thinking. I'm going to see a lecture on the 19th century spiritualist Madame Blavatsky. Medium, mystic, world-traveler, writer, con-artist, and fraud. And probably one of the most fascinating people who ever claimed to speak to the dead. (Read about her here. Warning: The article from The Daily Beast has a bit of foul language. It also happens to have been written by one of my personal heroes.)

I'll let you know how it goes. I'm kind of hoping to pick up a few tips from Madame. Even if my ghost doesn't make an appearance this weekend, there's no reason my guests need to leave without enjoying a good scare. Heehee.

Adventure #3: Still Thinking!

It has been a crazy week! But I fully intend to make room in my hectic schedule for ADVENTURE this weekend! I'm still exploring the possibilities, but I will be back with an update soon! I have already decided what NEXT week's adventure will be--and I think you're going to like it! I will be hosting a seance in my haunted apartment! I can't wait to hear what my ghost has to say. While I'm on the subject, there was another strange incident a few days ago. I went into my bathroom to take a shower and noticed a small, rubber ball sitting motionless on the floor. I took my shower and forgot all about it. Then, when I left the room, the ball came bouncing out behind me. It was as if someone was telling me, "This doesn't belong in the bathroom!"

Adventure #2: The Human Car Wash

Yesterday evening, I completed my second adventure. I would have tweeted, but my phone ran out of juice just before I got to the baths. But that's fine. There's no way I could have described yesterday's experience in 140-character increments.

I'll confess--I wasn't sure if my visit to the Russian/Turkish Baths would qualify as an adventure. I worried that the only thing I'd find at the underground "spa" would be a crowd of sweaty New Yorkers sitting around in their bathing suits. I needn't have worried. My visit to the famous 10th Street Baths in the East Village was among the strangest experiences of my life.

To begin with, the baths are no place for the germ-phobic. I am a card-carrying member of that particular group. Fortunately, I left my card at home yesterday (along with all of my valuables). This is my YEAR OF ADVENTURE, and I can't afford to be squeamish! I plan to encounter all sorts of disgusting stuff over the next 50 weeks. A little sweat should be the least of it.

(Above: NOT what you should expect.)

That having been said, if you visit the baths, I highly recommend that you schlep your own supplies (as I did). Bathing suit. Flip flops. You might even bring your own towel or robe.

OK--now that you've been warned, allow me to set the scene. After you arrive, you deposit your belongings in a locker, pull on your bathing suit, and head downstairs to the pool and saunas. This is the main part of the baths. It's much smaller than I imagined. And there's absolutely nothing pretty about it. In fact, the place looks oddly industrial--like a human car wash.

The basement was full when I got there. (If you don't like company, you should probably go during the work week.) The crowd was fairly young (I'd been expecting to see a bunch of old Russian guys) and there were lots of ladies. Still, there was an astonishing array of body hair on display (not all of it attached to the men). At first I felt like I'd wandered into a carpet showroom. Then I decided to mind my own business--which is probably what I should have been doing in the first place. After that, I didn't feel weird at all. Seriously. Even I was surprised.

Downstairs, I was immediately approached by one of the bath's "therapists," who wanted to know if I would like any extra "treatments." I know some people find the solicitations annoying, but since I was there for adventure, I wasn't bothered at all. The therapist spoke with a thick accent I couldn't place and he wore a big gold chain around his throat. Super nice guy. But I don't think you'd want to make him angry.

I started with a goopy mud treatment. I'm afraid there's not much to report. The mud was cold at first. It seeped under my bathing suit and stained the inside lining. Getting it washed off was the best part. They hose you down like an elephant. But I didn't go to the baths for mud. I went for the platza treatment. And that's where the experience became a true adventure.

There are five saunas in the basement of the baths. The hottest is known as the Russian Room. It is, beyond all doubt, an entrance to Hades. I have never felt heat like that. I didn't check a thermometer, but it was hot enough to scorch my lungs the moment I stepped inside. I didn't think I could stay for more than a minute. But the Russian Room is where the platza treatment is administered. I'm not sure how long I was in there. But each and every one felt like an eternity.

A giant Russian man in long, monkish robes told me to lie face-down on one of the benches. He put a wet towel over my head, which made it somewhat easier to breathe in the heat. Then he proceeded to beat my skin with a bunch of soapy oak leaves. I don't think it hurt. But I honestly don't know for sure. Because the entire time I was far more concerned that I might die from the heat. I'm not exaggerating at all. And what really freaked me out was that I'd probably end up partially cooked before the giant Russian figured out that he was beating a corpse.

When it was over, I was guided out of the Russian Room and told to take a dip in the freezing cold plunge pool. (Horrible, horrible, horrible.) After the giant confirmed that I could "move my face" (was there a chance that I might not be able to?), he smeared my skin with honey and told me to sit still for five minutes. At that point I wasn't ready to go anywhere.

So that's it. Am I glad I visited the 10th Street Baths? Absolutely. Will I go back? Maybe--but probably not. If I do, will I ask for the platza treatment? My first response would be NOOOOO! But whenever I look in a mirror, I gotta admit that my skin looks fantastic. The only question is: How much will I suffer for beauty?

Interested in going to a Russian bath? Here's a list of a few in New York!

Adventure #2: The Russian Baths

Told you I was going to go somewhere warm this week! At some point in the next three days, I shall be visiting New York's famous Russian Baths, which I've heard are an adventure one MUST experience. (Don't be startled by the appearance of a nude painting when you click the link. And FYI, I will not be removing my swimsuit. Not even when I get beaten with "fragrant oak leaves." Always wanted to try that.) I probably won't be able to Tweet from the inside, but I promise I'll Tweet all the way home.

Adventure #1: The Houseboats of Lavender Lake

Above: Lavender Lake (otherwise known as the fetid and fragrant Gowanus Canal).

Isn't it lovely? Maybe you're thinking it wouldn't be such a bad place to park a houseboat. Well here's an exercise that will help you imagine what life might be like for the brave souls who choose to make a home on Brooklyn's Gowanus Canal . . .

First get a little toy boat. Then locate the foulest, most disgusting public toilet around. (Gas stations are always a good place to start.) Drop your boat into one of the toilet bowls. Try to pretend that you call that boat home. Imagine the smells and sights one would endure. Pretty horrible, right? Well, believe it or not, there are worse places to live. Like the Gowanus Canal.

I'm not exaggerating. There's a reason the Gowanus was recently declared a Superfund site. The water is teeming with countless disease-causing pathogens. Cholera. Typhus. Gonorrhea. And every time there's a big rainstorm, New York City's ancient sewer system releases raw sewage directly into the canal. (Want to see a video? Click here. Don't watch while you're eating.) To be honest, the sewage would only be second on my list of worries if I lived on the canal. My primary concern would be the highly-toxic chemicals left behind by the factories, tanneries, and gas refineries that have lined the Gowanus for the past 150 years. Take a dip in the water, and you'd probably emerge with a little less skin.

Oh yeah . . . did I mention that the Gowanus is rumored to have been a mob dumping ground? Some might argue that the stories are pure fiction, but I honestly couldn't think of a better place to toss a body or a bag of guns.

(Above: The waterfront.)

As I may have mentioned, I live a few blocks from the Gowanus Canal. Which means next to nothing. In New York, you're always a few blocks away from something stomach-churning. (If you're lucky. If not, there's something revolting right next door.) In fact, I never thought about the canal very much until the hurricane that hit New York last summer. That's when I discovered that my house is across the street from a flood evacuation zone. And it wasn't seawater that might have flooded my neighbors' homes. It was the poisonous soup from the Gowanus Canal.

Then, after I came across a few articles about the Gowanus houseboats, I decided I should pay a visit to the canal. It's too bad that I chose to make my first excursion on a bitterly cold winter day. But I pulled on my boots and set off on my quest. Because this is my YEAR OF ADVENTURE! And I'm so happy I did. I may have come close to freezing my butt off, but when I got home I felt more inspired than I have in ages.

(However, my next adventure WILL take me somewhere warm and relaxing. Ha.)

Now, on to my discoveries . . .

The bright yellow boxes in the photo above are "bird and bat houses" that an environmental group has constructed along the canal. These little structures are very interesting for several reasons. First, there might actually be bats inside. How cool would it be to see bats flying over the canal at dusk? (It'd be even cooler if they belonged to some mutant, bloodsucking species that can only be found in Brooklyn.) Second, the yellow boxes would be perfect as dead drops. Or they could conceal surveillance equipment. Or just about anything else. (This is how a story starts to form in my head.)

One of my favorite spots along the canal was the boat dock. The boat-shaped "sign" shown above says, "Brooklyn's Coolest Superfund Site." I found it rather amusing. But not quite as amusing as the little green sign to the left which cautions boaters to avoid coming into contact with the water or sediment in the canal. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not sure it's possible to canoe or kayak without getting a little bit damp.

Apparently the warnings haven't dissuaded the canoe club that meets at this site every Saturday from May to October. Members of the public are welcome. If I can find a waterproof hazmat suit, I may well join them.

(On a side note, while I was at the boat dock, a group of doofuses broke in through a fence on the other side of the canal. I don't think they were intent on causing any trouble, but it shows you how poor the security is along the Gowanus. Good to know.)

Above: This oozing pipe was a few inches to the left of the boat dock. (And yes, that's my shadow.)

Finally, I found a houseboat. On Monday it was moored between the Carroll St. and Union St. bridges. And the sight was well worth all of my pain and suffering. The owner obviously has excellent taste in art. But I can't understand why (s)he would steer that floating masterpiece into the Gowanus Canal. I would have inquired, but the boat's dock seemed pretty inaccessible. So if you happen to read this post, houseboat dweller, please drop me a note. I'm one of your biggest fans.

Just as I was about to head home, I came across this street art alligator. I'm afraid my camera didn't do it justice. It's really quite spectacular in person. And I can't help but think that the artist must have been inspired by something (s)he saw emerge from the murky Gowanus.

While sipping hot chocolate back in my office, I found the video I've embedded below. The guy being interviewed lives on a houseboat in the Gowanus (one I didn't happen to see). I admire his commitment to living "off the grid" in New York City. But I bet he sneaks off the boat now and then for a hot shower, a gourmet dinner and a shiatsu massage.

The Off-Gridder from Yardena Schwartz on Vimeo.

Back from the Gowanus Canal . . .

The trip was very interesting indeed! I tried tweeting about my adventure, but it was so cold outside that my hands were shaking too much to type. (Though I did manage a few tweets.) Before the end of the day, I'll post about my discoveries. (One of which was pretty amazing.) But first I must get this chill out of my bones!

Adventure #1 Will Take Place Tomorrow

Picked up a cold on Friday. Thank goodness this Monday's a holiday! Check in tomorrow!

My New Year's Resolution

You may have noticed that I haven't posted in a while. I'm afraid I've been feeling rather uninspired. I'm in a rut.

Those of you who know me probably aren't shocked by this news. Having written four books in four years, I've spent way too much time in front of my computer. I haven't been reading strange books. (In fact, I haven't been reading much of anything lately!) I've stopped exploring the city I love so much. I haven't been sampling strange foods or learning "useful" new skills. I've been typing. And typing. And typing.

Don't get me wrong--I've been having a blast. My latest books (The Darkness Dwellers and my "secret project") are the best novels I've written. But I've emptied my heart and my brain, and now they both need to be filled.

So here's my New Year's Resolution . . . I'm going to make 2012 my year of ADVENTURE. Every Sunday, I'll set out in search of inspiration. I'm going to go new places. Eat strange things. Do things I wouldn't normally do. And I'm going to write about it here. Heck, I'm even going to TWEET about it! (Look for Bank St. Irregular on Twitter.)

I encourage all of you to join my quest to re-discover the weird and the wonderful. If you find adventure--and you'd like to share the experience with the Bank St. Irregular readers, just send an email to kikistrike@gmail.com!

And if you have any suggestions for me, send those, too! Weird books to read. Unusual places to visit. Tasty invertebrates to consume. Whatever you recommend, I'll try my best to give it a shot!

This Sunday, I'm going to take a trip to the vile, polluted, yet oddly scenic Gowanus Canal in Brooklyn. I've read that there are houseboats floating on this incredibly toxic body of water. Who would want to live surrounded by raw sewage? Some pretty interesting folks, that's for sure. And I can't help but think that the Gowanus Canal might be the perfect place to hide out if you're on the run from the law--or the seven delinquent girl geniuses who keep New York safe.

Back from Guadalajara!

As regular blog readers may already know, I was down in Mexico last week, visiting the Guadalajara Book Festival. I had an absolutely fabulous time! Having spent most of the past year in front of a computer with only my characters to keep me company, it was wonderful to get out and meet so many Eternos fans! A big thank you to my translator, Paul, for making me sound smart in Spanish--and to Pamela Martinez for a fabulous interview. (Remember that name--Pamela's going to be famous some day.) And my eternal gratitude to all the ladies and gentlemen at my Mexican publisher, Santillana/Alfaguara. Not only are you guys the best in the business, you're a lot of fun, too!

This morning I discovered an article that could come in handy the next time I'm out of town. I have no sense of direction, and the GPS on my phone isn't always reliable. So I'm going memorize these Six Ways to Never Get Lost in a City Again.

It's Coming for You Next!

Did you ever think you'd see an octopus walk on dry land? This is a terrifying development for all of us who live near water.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! (And thanks for the link, Olivia!)

Pride, Prejudice, and a Pinch of Arsenic

Jane Austen died of a mysterious illness at the age of 41. Some experts claim she died of cancer. Others insist it was Addison's Disease. Now the author of a new book is offering a rather novel theory. She believes Jane Austen may have been POISONED!

Jane is known for having had a pretty sharp tongue. Was it sharp enough to offend one of her neighbors? Sharp enough to drive that neighbor to . . . MURDER? (Okay, enough caps for now.)

The theory stems from a letter Jane penned a few months before she died. In it, she writes, "I am considerably better now and am recovering my looks a little, which have been bad enough, black and white and every wrong colour."

One of the symptoms of arsenic poisoning is discoloration of the skin, which develops unusual black and white patches. However, while the murder theory is very intriguing, accidental poisonings were quite common in Austen's day. (In the nineteenth century, even children's medicines contained powerful opiates or deadly poisons.)

But don't let my skepticism stop any sleuths out there. Prove Austen was murdered--and identify the culprit--and you'll have solved one of the greatest murder mysteries of all time!

Read more here.

Sewage-Eating Microbes Have Excellent Taste (in Music)

(Above: Sewage-eaters aren't quite as cute as these guys.)

According to this article, a sewage treatment plant in Germany has found a way to make its microbes work harder. It lets them listen to music. Mozart's Magic Flute, to be specific.

While the microbes dine, music is played over a loud-speaker at the plant. Mozart-loving microbes eat more sewage, which means the plant produces more clean water and less sludge. Thanks to Mozart, the plant saved over 10,000 euros last year.

So microbes like classical music. If I think about that too much, my head might explode.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. "Scientists have developed fluorescent bacteria that encode secret messages, creating a living invisible ink." I need to lie down now.

I'm Not Sure How I Feel About This

Tokidoki Barbie. I am not a Barbie fan. Never have been. Do I like this? I DON'T KNOW! Shall we discuss?

Actually, the Byron Lars Barbie Collection does much more to address my Barbie-related issues. Some of those dolls are pretty fabulous.

Mexico, Here I Come!

I've been putting the finishing touches on my top-secret project, so I haven't had much time to blog lately! (And for all the skeptics out there, YES my top-secret project DOES exist. Ha.)

But in a few weeks, I'll be setting all of my work aside and heading down to MEXICO to promote Eternos (The Eternal Ones) and All You Desire! I can't wait! I'll post an itinerary soon, but I do know that Guadalajara will be the main stop on the tour.

So now for the subject of today's post. Like most cities, Mexico City is densely populated--and growing more crowded each year. But historic buildings can't be demolished to build new structures (thank goodness). And the law prohibits new buildings from rising any higher than eight stories above ground.

Now a team of architects believes it has found the solution. The group would like to build the world's first "earth-scraper." The sixty-five story building would be constructed beneath a major plaza in the city's historic center. A glass roof would allow natural light to reach the shops, homes, and offices on all levels of the structure.

It looks pretty amazing. (For more pictures, click here.) Of course, there are a few questions I'd want answered before I agreed to move in. (What happens if there's a fire? What if the entrances are blocked and everyone gets trapped inside? What if it's taken over by bandits and turned into a dark, dangerous Shadow City?)

If the Mexico City earth-scraper ever gets built, I'll just have to write another book so I can go down to see it. I think that book will be about the world's first earth-scraper--and how a good idea can go terribly, horribly wrong.

(Thanks for the link, Macy!)

Boffins Just Blew My Mind

Despite having extremely close links to the British community, I had never heard the term "boffin" until today. I shall be employing the word from now on, so please add it to your personal dictionaries. Ha.

But that's not the point of this post. According to this rather technical website, boffins are now able to insert 3D objects into old photographs. (Check out the website for some rather dull examples.) The results are so realistic that they'd fool any non-boffin's eyes.

If you clicked the link above, you might have watched a video with the yawn-inducing title, "Rendering Synthetic Objects into Legacy Photographs." (Those boffins sure have a way with titles!) If you didn't watch it, you should. Because this new technology is pretty darn amazing.

I started thinking about the many 3D objects I'd like to insert into old photographs. And all of the bizarre stories that might begin with a single altered photo.

In case you're wondering, this is the kind of discovery that can inspire a new book. (Not making any promises, though.)

The Museum of Obsolete Objects

Click here.

Thou Rank, Beetle-Headed Maggot Pie!

Now you can insult your enemies and impress your English Lit teachers at the same time. All you have to do is consult this handy "Shakespeare Insult Kit!" (From blameitonthevoices.) Just make sure you know what the terms mean first. And if you get yourself in trouble, keep me out of it!

The Penguins Need Sweaters!

Attention all knitters, (and I know there are quite a few of you out there), the penguins of New Zealand need sweaters! Seriously! A recent oil spill has left many of them in terrible danger. Sweaters will not only keep the little birds warm until they've recovered enough to be properly cleaned, it will also keep them from consuming the oil that's coating their feathers. (Which would make them even sicker!)

Here's how to knit a penguin sweater. And here's more information, including what to do with the sweaters when you're done!

Escape from Wonderland

(Picture from toxel.)

I've always wanted to learn how to rock climb. (Why haven't I? Hmmm. Good question.) I just wish I could find a climbing wall like this one, which was recently installed at a Tokyo fitness club. It was inspired by Alice in Wonderland and features climb holds in the shape of frames, vases, and bird cages. Very, very cool (but perhaps a little too tasteful--the designers could have gone a bit crazier if you ask me). And I gotta wonder: Is it really safe to climb in tights and a skirt?

Moustache Man

Above: Is it art? Propoganda? Vandalism? Hilarious? Let's discuss.

Until June, when he was nabbed by the NYPD after a two-month investigation (because the one of the biggest threats this city faces is Sharpie-wielding graffiti artists), Moustache Man roamed the NY subway system, altering the advertisements that line our scenic underground stations.

I happen to think that a well-drawn moustache improves most celebrity faces. However, there are many who would probably beg to differ. (The cops, the ads' owners, humorless movie stars.) But I honestly believe that Moustache Man (who took himself and his work VERY seriously) was performing a service for all humankind.

Imagine this: It's eight o'clock in the morning, and you're crammed into a metal tube with several thousand of your loudest, smelliest neighbors. You deserve a little something to take your mind off your suffering, and a baby with a moustache may be EXACTLY what you need.

I, for one, will miss the marvelous Moustache Man.

Another Explosive Subject

I usually don't like to "borrow" so liberally from other blogs, but I recently came across these two videos on one of my favorite sites, TYWKIWDBI. Maybe you're already familiar with "stick bombs," but they were new to me. (I have been living under a rock for the last year or so.)

I think I know how I'll be spending my free time for the next couple of weeks.

The first video shows a stick bomb in action. The second is a fabulous tutorial. Enjoy!

Yarn Bombing the Alamo

The Alamo is a huge, rotating cube in the middle of Manhattan's Astor Place. And it was just "yarn bombed" by artist Olek. According to hyperallergic, (the blog where I found the photo above by Alex Sarkesian), it has already been removed! Why?

Insanely Twisted

Apparently, the video above was too dark for Nickelodeon. (It's not gory. Just really, really weird.)

Bonus below . . . the letters and envelopes of Edward Gorey. I love envelope art. It's getting rarer and rarer these days, and I hope it doesn't become a thing of the past.

Skeleton Day!

Above: A centaur skeleton from Skulls Unlimited—the one stop shop for all of your bone-related needs. Funny, there's a similar—but deadlier—business in The Darkness Dwellers.

Above: Decorating with bones in the Sedlec Ossuary.

Above: Skeleton jewelry from Delfina Delettrez. A good thing to wear if you're out late in New York.

Above: Skull art from Katsuyo Aoki.

Above: Skeletons in the Closet, the gift store at the LA County Coroner's Office, is the greatest place on earth.