Hunger Games soundtrack

So the HG soundtrack is pretty good, if a bit bipolar. Roughly 50% of the singers heard "Hunger Games soundtrack" as, in Taylor Swift's words, ''Appalachian music 300 years from now.'' 45% heard  "DYSTOPIA! I GET TO WRITE AN ANTHEM FOR A DYSTOPIA!"  And a minority - say 5% - heard "This is your chance to write Hunger Games filk!" And then there's Taylor Swift, who also heard "write a generic pop song to play over the end credits!" But I'll forgive her, because her futuristic Appalachian music is pretty decent, and also, she was probably told to write a generic pop song for the end credits.

The upshot: this is a good soundtrack album. Even on shuffle, the songs flow into each other with surprising coherence. And it's a rich mine for writers looking for "I'M IN A DYSTOPIA! WITH A BANJO!" music to play in the background as they write. 

I'm also amused and rather touched to hear how many artists just really, really wanted to write HG filk. Rock on, nerdy dystopian banjo players. Rock on.

From the Hunger Games "Dystopia" contingent

HG: "I'm writing a dystopian anthem!"

Once again Arcade Fire proves they fit songs to the album rather than vice versa.

Hunger Games: "I have a banjo!"

A book update of a different sort

The amazing Susan Gubar's Memoir of a Debulked Woman: Enduring Ovarian Cancer is being released on April 30th. A brilliant feminist scholar and (full disclosure) one of the most inspirational teachers I've had, Susan was diagnosed in 2008 with ovarian cancer. In her latest book, she weaves a memoir of her illness together with a polemic on the state of women's health care in America.

From Publisher's Weekly:

Feminist author and scholar Gubar received a diagnosis of ovarian cancer in 2008, and the then 63-year-old author underwent the radical surgical procedure called debulking, which removes many of the organs in a woman’s lower abdomen. Gubar’s memoir is not easy reading. She recounts in detail the grotesque procedures and the horrendous pain and humiliation she endured. The author ponders why major advances have mounted up for the treatment of breast cancer, but little has changed in treating ovarian cancer. Gubar weaves her personal story into a discussion of art, literature, and statements from other cancer patients. The author recounts the strength and care she received from family and friends, especially her husband, from her diagnosis through treatment to remission. She then finds herself confronted with a choice. “Either I have a third abdominal surgery that comes with its own complications or I suffer from infections preventing future therapies that would extend my life.” Gubar wrote her memoir for one reason: “my central motive consists of a fierce belief that something must be done to rectify the miserable inadequacies of current medical responses to ovarian cancer.” Gubar’s passionate and brave polemic is critical reading for anyone concerned with the state of women’s health care in America. (Apr.)