Whenever I sit down and I read a really good book, I think I want to be someone else. There are days where I want to be Duane, Ray Banks, Al Guthrie, or Laura Lippman (all right let’s be honest, I want to write like Laura… but don’t have the guts to go through all the operations to actually become Laura).

I envy these writers a lot of times because each one does things differently and they do them all well. They write their way. And I want to write like them. But I can’t. I don’t write that way. It wouldn’t come out of me well. And then I get mad. Why not? I ask. Why can’t I write like them?

And that’s when I have to take a deep breath and remind myself that as a writer, I don’t want to be Duane or Ray or Al or Laura. And I shouldn’t. They are entities unto themselves.

So I should want to be Dave White.

And that’s what I think a lot of the best writers do (and I know this is opening up a whole can of worms… NO I DO NOT THINK I AM ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS. BUT I AM STRIVING….) I think they find their own voice.

Yeah, they imitated those they liked when they first started (Parker imitated Chandler, Leonard-Hemingway) but they moved on from that. They moved away and found their own voice.

So my goal is not to be the next so and so… it’s to be the first Dave White…

Unless you count the Dave White who reviews movies.

Or the Dave White who was in Bewitched…

or…

(this is just a way to say BUY THE BOOKS that I just mentioned! They’re great!)

In my report on the Magers & Quinn Irvine Welsh reading, I wrote about talking to David Unowsky, former owner of the Twin Cities’ much loved, now closed bookstore, The Ruminator. Turns out David Unowsky doesn’t just work for Magers & Quinn, he arranges their readings. I found a 2005 article about his “second act” in Publisher’s Weekly:

As Dylan Thomas might put it, David Unowsky simply refuses to “go gently into that good night” of bookselling.

Unowsky, former owner of the Ruminator bookstore in St. Paul, Minn., has joined the staff of 10-year-old used bookstore Magers & Quinn Booksellers, whose main store is located in Minneapolis’s trendy Uptown area. (There is also a downtown store.) Unowsky’s hiring reflects owner Denny Magers’s desire to expand his inventory mix to include new titles. The 9,000-sq.-ft. bookstore currently offers 100,000 used books with another 400,000 used books available on the store’s Web site. The bookstore will soon begin hosting author events, which will be arranged by Unowsky.

“This was an opportunity to get a heavy hitter, a real slugger, on our team, at a time when we’re going through a transition from being a used bookstore to being an entity that people think of right away when they want a book, no matter what kind it is,” Magers told PW Daily. “It takes a long time to change the public perception that we only sell used books. Having somebody as experienced and well-known as David will help us a lot.”

The Ruminator closed its doors last June after 34 years in business. By the time the Ruminator’s landlord, Macalester College, served Unowsky with an eviction notice, he had depleted his retirement savings, mortgaged his house and racked up $10,000 in credit card debt, trying to keep the financially beleagured store afloat.

Read the rest here. And another article by PW, published right before the store’s closing:

It is a sad end to an entrepreneurial career that began in 1970, when Unowsky opened the store under the name, Hungry Mind (he sold the name in 2000 and renamed his store). Hungry Mind earned a reputation as one of the few truly fine bookstores in the U.S., often mentioned alongside such greats as City Lights in San Francisco, Elliott Bay in Seattle and Tattered Cover in Denver.

Unowsky admitted that, like many independent booksellers, he’s always been more focused on books than profit. But he traced the financial problems that led to the store’s closing back to his decision four years ago to open a second store in Minneapolis. In hindsight, he said, he realizes the location was too isolated to sustain a bookstore. The store lost money for three years until it closed.

Struggling with debt, Unowsky fell behind on his payments to Macalester. Her tried a number of tactics to get back on course. Late last year he sold stock in his company, $1 a share for a minimum of 250 shares. He got enough takers to affirm how much book lovers treasure his store–but not enough to cover his debts. He abandoned the stock idea and gave the investors their money back.

Around the same time, he got help from some prominent authors, including Neil Gaiman, Oliver Sacks and Margaret Atwood, who donated items to be auctioned off on eBay to raise money for the store. Then, the horizon seemed to brighten considerably when a financial backer stepped up to negotiate directly with the school.

Those discussions dragged on for months, ending last week with the school demanding that Ruminator Books leave the property. “I’m evicted,” the bookseller said. “This isn’t my decision. I thought we had a deal with the college and we were going to go forward.”

But David Wheaton, Macalester’s vice president and treasurer, said they were never able to come to an agreement on future terms or dealing with the store’s past debt. “We had gone on for a long time and had been looking for a way to bring the discussions to a decision,” he said.

“I think that the store’s been an important part of the campus community and the larger literary community for a long time,” Wheaton added. “This is not something that we approached or did lightly, and I think it will be a loss for our campus and the neighborhood.”

He’s not the only one who thinks so. News of Ruminator’s imminent demise has provoked the usual laments from writers and readers, who laud the store as a literary oasis in an increasingly shallow and commercial culture. Unowsky must be warmed by such praise. What he really needs now, though, is a steady paycheck.

“I’m 62 years old,” he said. “I’d be happy to work for someone else–to work hard for someone else–and go home at night and not worry about making payroll.”

And what replaced The Ruminator? Patagonia. I currently live very close to this location and it kills me that I could’ve been MERE BLOCKS from The Ruminator. Now if I need outdoor clothing, Patagonia’ll provide.

I joined the Authors Guild in 1978. It’s a terrific organization, one I’m always glad to pay annual dues to. Its Backinprint.com program has brought back four of my out-of-print hardcover books in print-on-demand paperbacks; I’ve got a really sweet deal on an author’s website through the Guild; and, before I became a lawyer myself, got great legal advice from their counsel. I urge everyone who’s published a book to join the Authors Guild.

Anyway, they also send out e-mail alerts from time to time. This one just showed up in my inbox:

Simon & Schuster has changed its standard contract language in an attempt to retain exclusive control of books even after they have gone out of print. Until now, Simon & Schuster, like all other major trade publishers, has followed the traditional practice in which rights to a work revert to the author if the book falls out of print or if its sales are low.

The publisher is signaling that it will no longer include minimum sales requirements for a work to be considered in print. Simon & Schuster is apparently seeking nothing less than an exclusive grant of rights in perpetuity. Effectively, the publisher would co-own your copyright.

The new contract would allow Simon & Schuster to consider a book in print, and under its exclusive control, so long as it’s available in any form, including through its own in-house database — even if no copies are available to be ordered by traditional bookstores.

Other major trade publishers are not seeking a similar perpetual grant of rights.

We urge you to consider your options carefully:

1. Remember that if you sign a contract with Simon & Schuster that includes this clause, they’ll say you’re wed to them. Your book will live and die with this particular conglomerate.

2. Ask your agent to explore other options. Other publishers are not seeking an irrevocable grant of rights.

3. If you have a manuscript that may be auctioned, consider asking your agent to exclude Simon & Schuster imprints unless they agree before the auction to use industry standard terms.

4. Let us know if other major publishers follow suit. Any coordination among publishers on this matter has serious legal implications.

Feel free to forward and post this message in its entirety.

The Authors Guild (www.authorsguild.org) is the nation’s oldest and largest organization of published book authors.

It seems weird to me now that there were only two women of the ten “Young Writers I Admire” article from 1979’s A Critical (Ninth) Assembling – and no writers of color – but in any case, Miriam Sagan was a standout poet on the 1970s small press scene.

A graduate of Harvard with an M.A. in creative writing from Boston University, Miriam published her work in many of the same little magazines that Tom Whalen, Peter Cherches and I did. Her work attracted me from the beginning with its deceptively matter-of-fact voice, its subtle lyricism, its sense of wisdom and humor.

Miriam was one of the editors of the legendary Boston area-based Aspect Magazine, the 1969 brainchild of the late one-man phenomenon Ed Hogan. I’d meet Ed and Miriam at the yearly small press New York Book Fairs in the 70s, meeting at such weekend venues as the Customs House, the Park Avenue armory and the parking lot under Lincoln Center.

Aspect lasted through the whole decade of the 1970s, morphing from a political to a literary magazine in its long and storied run. In 1980 Ed shut Aspect down and he, Miriam and others founded Zephyr Press, still active as a publisher today although Ed’s death in a 1997 canoeing accident definitely caused it to break stride for several years. (Full disclosure: Aspect‘s 1978 double fiction issue contained a story by me and the first critical article about my work, Susan Lloyd McGarry’s “Twenty-seven Statements I Could Make About Richard Grayson,” and Zephyr published my 1983 collection I Brake for Delmore Schwartz).

In 1982 Miriam moved from the Boston area to first San Francisco and then Santa Fe, where Miriam has made her home since 1984. She’s published over twenty books, including Searching for a Mustard Seed: A Young Widow’s Unconventional Story, which won the award for best memoir from Independent Publishers for 2004; her poetry collections Rag Trade, The Widow’s Coat, The Art of Love and Aegean Doorway; and a novel, Coastal Lives.

Miriam has also co-edited such anthologies as New Mexico Poetry Renaissance and Another Desert: The Jewish Poetry of New Mexico and co-authored with her late husband Robert Winson Dirty Laundry: 100 Days in a Zen Monastery: A Joint Diary. Robert Creeley called her book Unbroken Line: Writing in the Lineage of Poetry “a work of quiet compassion and great heart.” Miriam has written a poetry column for Writer’s Digest and articles for the Albuquerque Journal, Santa Fe New Mexican and New Mexico Magazine, and she directs the creative writing program at Santa Fe Community College

I’m not often in touch with Miriam these days, but we did catch up after nearly 15 years when she came to South Florida to give a talk at the Palm Beach County public library in Boca Raton in November 2003. And last year I got to watch her in action as a poetry workshop leader and lecturer when she was a featured guest at the Celebration of Writing at the Jess Schwartz Jewish Community High School in Phoenix, where I taught AP English.

I wasn’t surprised what a fine teacher she proved to be, because Miriam has always been as good with people as she is with words, the kind of writer on whom nothing is lost. Driving her to the Miami airport during her 1982 visit, I detoured to show her the decaying mock-Arabian Nights architecture of slummy downtown Opa-Locka – only to open a literary magazine a year later and find that in our five-minute drive through town she’d seen enough to create a terrific, haunting, melancholy poem.

Last year in Phoenix, I got to meet Miriam’s second husband, Rich. (He was her high school boyfriend, I think.) Here’s her poem “Remarriage”:

My second husband says
He wishes my first husband
Would get married again—

My first husband
Has been dead for years,
But I dream about him.

At first, he was angry,
Or calling on the phone
Wanting to come home

But I was already
With the man who would become
My second husband.

Recently, I began to dream
My dead husband was dating
A very pretty—

But obviously not Jewish—
Blonde woman,
She seemed very nice.

My second husband
Was getting sick of my dreams—
He said he hoped they’d get married.

In my next dream
My first husband told me
He was indeed marrying her

But he enraged me
By inviting his sisters
But not our daughter to the wedding.

My friends politely mention
They think I am in denial
After all, my first husband

Is dead, not getting married.
But it is as if
He has some kind of life

That goes on without me
Perhaps because I have had
So much go on without him.