Nathan Bransford asked a great question about who has tucked a great mystery into a novel:

Note that I’m not necessarily asking for your favorite mystery novel! Some great mysteries have been crafted outside of that genre, whether it was wondering if Snape could be trusted in the Harry Potter series or whether Ahab would get his nemesis of a white whale in Moby-Dick.

It made me think about how I’m always seeking out puzzle fiction.

Because there are mysteries, as in the genre of mysteries (and I read a lot of those), but then there are mysteries or puzzles tucked inside non-genre fiction, such as Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore or Tell the Machine Goodnight or Gnomon. I just bought Gnomon and can’t wait to read it. (And try to figure out what the numbers mean on the first page.)

I just started Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments, and there are tiny mysteries scattered over the pages. I love it when you encounter one and tuck it into the back of your brain, knowing that Atwood will solve it for you later.

I wanted more stories added to Bransford’s post. What mysteries-inside-non-genre-fiction would you add?

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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I usually don’t remember to put books on hold at the library until they’re already in circulation, which means that I end up with slot #5783870486 when it comes to popular books. (Yes, 5783870485 people in our library system get there before me, somehow.)

But months ago, I put myself down for Margaret Atwood’s new book AND Stephen King’s new book beforehand so I started with a low number on the list. They both popped into existence around the same time, and the race was off to see which book would come to me first. Except it’s a little like the catcher in the rye (like the actual metaphor of the catcher in Salinger’s book) because the books are coming at me at once, AND I CANNOT READ (or catch) ALL THESE BOOKS AT ONCE. So it’s a game of seeing which one pulls ahead and then quickly suspending the other hold so I don’t bring it home too soon.

Library hold stress, people. It’s real.

Have you read either book yet? What do you think?

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

The first bird I ID’ed as an official birder–I’m now considering myself an official birder–was a Carolina wren. I used Merlin to narrow it down to eight possible candidates for losing my bird identifying virginity, and cemented the name once it began warbling WHILE LOOKING DIRECTLY INTO MY SOUL. Through a window, yes, but also THROUGH MY SOUL.

I loved that little Carolina wren.

The book I bought to get me started on birding said that it was an activity that shared many similarities to sleuthing like Sherlock Holmes. I love Sherlock Holmes. Which means I now love birding. It is strangely addictive to punch all the facts into the app and have it spit out possibilities. Is it this? Or this? It has pictures. It has sound files. I can now go all around the world, IDing birds. I always have something to do, wherever I go.

I think I love it because it’s collection without clutter. I’m collecting birds, logging their names in my notebook (yes, I bought a notebook for this), and even if I get to thousands of names, it will only take up a tiny bit of space. Just a slim notebook that slips into my pocket and comes with me wherever I go in case I meet a bird friend along the way.

And I’m going to love all of them. Especially the birds who eat crickets and remove them from the world for me. Thank you, birds. You rock.

Happy almost New Year. At least, it is almost a new year in my world. 5780. Which is clearly different from 2019. Though we also have 12 months (except for years that contain a leap month — yes, we get a whole extra month instead of a single day).

It sometimes feels very complicated to straddle two different calendars. Like my brain simultaneously moves through time on a lunar cycle and on a solar cycle.

Rosh Hashanah (translates to “head of the year”) starts on Sunday night. I always associate fall with the start of a new year; much more so than January.

So here’s to new beginnings.

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Stop procrastinating.  Go make your backups.  Don’t have regrets.

Seriously.  Stop what you’re doing for a moment.  It will take you fifteen minutes, tops.  But you will have peace of mind for days and days.  It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Parent Teacher Conferences” (Infertile Phoenix)
• “It’s Okay to Quit” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

No Kidding in NZ has a post about opening a newspaper and finding your reality reflected back to you. Loss is often whispered, but the newspaper contained a two-page spread on baby loss–from miscarriage to infant loss. The article is about a new government website providing information on loss, and she writes, “The name of the website is Whetūrangitia – a Maori word that refers to a person dying as a star returning to the sky to join their ancestors.” It is so important to see your story being told.

Much Ado About Nothing has a post about last babies and the feelings miscarriage leaves behind. She explains: “Something has been missing from my life. I’ve been trying to fill it with other busyness… traveling on my own, going to shows, visiting more with friends, various projects of all kinds. It’s all been just a temporary lifting… nothing that sticks. Nothing that lasts.” Let’s just say that it hit very close to home, and I identified with it a lot. Sending hugs.

Lastly, I have Infertile Phoenix’s post down here, too, because I read it last Friday. She writes, “This was my first round of conferences with parents after knowing I will never have children.” What could have been a hard time wasn’t, and she continues: “I write this post to celebrate my progress, and I write this post to share my joy.” Go celebrate with her.

The roundup to the Roundup: Happy New Year! Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between September 20th and 27th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

I read Moonwalking with Einstein by Joshua Foer (one of the creators of Atlas Obscura) about training for a memory championship. He practiced daily for months, and he weaves the memory techniques he used into the story (as well as some background neurology information). After the memory championship, he ultimately gave up the daily practice though retained this new way of seeing the world as well as appreciating the pause memorization built into an experience.

He writes in the epilogue on page 268,

There is something to be said for the value of not merely passing through the world, but also making some effort to capture it—if only because in trying to capture it, one gets in the habit of noticing, and appreciating.

I highlighted the passage and immediately started wondering why memorization (in this way) is lauded while photography, which also is about not just passing through the world but attempting to catch it, is vilified.

Every so often, there is a spate of posts about how photography makes you miss out on moments. That by trying to document an experience visually, you stop paying attention to the moment itself. People complain about the people documenting everything with their camera or point out about how they had a superior experience because they didn’t photograph something.

I don’t know… gave me food for thought as I looked at the world through my camera. I love looking back at photos and returning, mentally, to a moment.