I’ve learned from a few people that there are falsehoods now circulating about things that I purportedly did at the National Book Awards. Look, folks, if you think I did something, email me and I’ll be happy to clarify and tell you the truth. (For example, since I learned that Joan Didion did not want to be interviewed, I left her alone. And I was sure to ask everyone I taped if they had a few minutes before talking with them.) Frankly, I was too busy working my ass off to do much of anything else besides journalism.
Lee Goldberg observes that the AMPTP has been smearing the WGA with attack ads in newspapers, and notes WGA President Patric Verrone’s response.
There’s a new Bookforum up, with lots of good stuff, including John Banville on the pulp age, pointing out that the worlds portrayed in The Big Book of Pulps — alas, its hefty thud has not yet landed in my mailbox — “where men were men and women loved them for it, where crooks were crooks and easily identified by the scars on their faces and the gats in their mitts, where policemen were dull but honest and never used four-letter words, where a good man was feared by the lawless and respected by the law-abiding.”
I realize that I’m slacking on the podcasts, but there’s work to be done and deadlines to meet, and I’m dancing as fast as I can. For those of you awaiting the Andrea Barrett interview, Curled Up has also talked with Barrett. (via Chasing Ray)
James Marcus has his National Book Awards report up, and he is right to observe that Didion’s voice “was like hearing somebody play a piano with only two keys–C and C-sharp.” And here’s Levi’s report. Jason has begun posting several videos, where he’s asked many writers what their first job was. He even got Hitch on tape, who I understand told Jason that he hadn’t been asked that question in a very long time.
Granta 20 author Adam Thirlwell has, at long last, followed up Politics with a new volume, Miss Herbert. But another Granta 20 Phillip Hensher doesn’t care for it, calling it “a rambling and highly egocentric work of criticism, about a bunch of unconnected writers whom Thirlwell happens to have read, and with whom he wants to associate himself.” Actually, he’s made me more curious about the book. Is it possible that Thirlwell has styled a Nicholson Baker’s U and I for this decade? We’ll see.
USA Today now has a voluntary buyout offer for 45 staffers. Presumably, this means later firings. I hope that Bob Minzesheimer, the amicable staffer who sat with us at the bloggers’ table on Wednesday, isn’t one of the casualties when the blade comes down.
There are currently some excited rumblings for Robert Williams, a Manchester bookseller who recently enticed Faber for a partially completed first novel for teenagers.
No kvetching from you, Wheeler. This blog’s reading level is elementary school, likely due to the rudimentary crudity of recent live-blogging reports. Or perhaps the truth has finally come out that I’m actually a nine years old prodigy who has been grounded to his bedroom for the past four years and is regularly beaten on the schoolyard for his recurrent use of “jejune” in everyday conversation.
Mark Sarvas offers a thoughtful post on where we’re now at in this whole print and online business and he has now added a sidebar containing his reviews, presumably named in relationship to one of John Leonard’s early volumes of criticism. (As for my own reviews, I plan to fix the sidebar for pieces that have now disappeared online soon.)
New York is Book Country, which hasn’t done anything in the past three years, is now slated to run the same day as the Brooklyn Book Fest. The NYIBC people haven’t even had the decency to respond to Brooklyn borough president Marty Markowitz’s letter. Well, if one has to choose between Tore Erickson’s ego and Johnny Temple’s efforts to get books out to the people, I’d say that this is a pretty slam-dunk decision.
Now listen up, folks. The Oxford Word of the Year is “locavore.” I haven’t used this word at all this year — not in writing or conversation — and now I’m feeling some pressure to insert this in my everyday vernacular in ways that that the Oxford people, much less the progenitors of the word, haven’t possibly imagined.
When I think of literacy, Jenna Bush is one of the last names that come to mind. But all this makes me wonder how Dan Quayle is faring these days. (By the way, did you know that Quayle is the onlywas one of the few vice presidents in American history never to be nominated for the presidency by his own party?)
While the rest of you folks are getting all excited about the National Book Awards, the New York Daily News has been talking with Joseph O’Connor.
A rare first edition of Wuthering Heightswill go on sale in London. One of the top bidders is rumored to be six-year-old Dalia Stafford, daughter of a tobacco tycoon. Stafford hopes that Daddy will bid on the book because she’s grown tired of commonplace coloring books and hopes for something a little more exotic to use her Crayolas on.
Red beans and rice on Amtrak? What next? Tofurkey burgers? I’m not going to rest, folks, until I can order a tofurkey burger with a side of nacho cheese. I have no intention of eating this, mind you, but I want to teach Amtrak a lesson. (via Henry Kisor)
Apparently, reading aloud helps the heart, the soul, and the mind. But the jury is out on whether it will help you get laid. Nevertheless, in light of a soliloquy I wrote for a play involving the benefits of counting, which had the character spouting off a lot of bullshit science, it’s funny to see that this character wasn’t too far off.
Kevin Holtsberry wants to know what makes a good blog. Do drop by and offer your thoughts.
Finally, the Other Ed is in great distress! He is trapped, Collyer brothers-style, in his apartment, and needs someone to excavate all the galleys and ARCs that have immersed him there. I have been spending the morning getting quotes from mercenaries. The best quote I have is from Oswald Grizzaldi, who can throw a few grenades into Mr. Park’s apartment for about $275. Which I think is a pretty reasonable price. Unfortunately, Mr. Grizzaldi cannot guarantee that Mr. Park will escape unmaimed. And Mr. Grizzaldi refuses to offer insurance for his operation, telling me that I need to keep him on retainer for at least six operations in order to ensure that nobody will get hurt. My thinking here is that a few other souls face the same plight that Mr. Park does. So if you need Mr. Grizzaldi to throw some grenades into your apartment, let me know and we’ll see if we can’t extract a few literary people out of their respective piles. In fact, maybe what’s needed here is a special forces unit dropping a few machetes in by chopper, along with an instruction manual titled HOW TO HACK YOUR WAY OUT OF A JUNGLE OF GALLEYS. The unexpected bonus? An unstoppable force of professionally trained machete-hackers who might find their skills called upon when the next revolution goes down. If you have any better ideas, please let me know. This is a matter of delicacy and urgency.
Having recently examined Hermione Lee’s Wharton biography, I sure do wish I could make this tonight. Alas, other engagements await me. But if you’re interested in Wharton’s New York, you might want to check this out at The Tenement Museum.
Eric Reynolds has strong words in response to this Scott Mitchell Rosenberg profile — in large part because Rosenberg manipulated the Entertainment Weekly comic bestseller list. And I have to agree. Ehrenreich’s reportage suffers from pulled punches. What could be a more perfect stomping ground for Ben Ehrenreich the Journalist than Rosenberg’s market manipulations, built and maintained by the Platinum empire? I’m surprised that nobody at EW was contacted for this piece to comment upon what safeguards have been put up to prevent this unethical business practice from occurring again.
One other thing about Girl Talk: it takes effrontery to mash up Wings’ “Silly Love Songs” with 2 Live Crew’s “We Want Some Pussy,” as he does on “Peak Out” And Wikipedia is sometimes good for something. Here’s a complete list of samples used, although I find it more enjoyable to guess.
Need your recent literary adaptations info spoon-fed into infographs? USA Todayis there for you!
So if you’re like me, you’re probably contemplating which book recommendation came from the “distinguished” shrink. I certainly have a few ideas. Here’s a hint: When you’re down and out, you need a really funny read. Miguel Ruiz? Not exactly a laugh riot. Since I am an undistinguished litblogger, I have to say that, if you’re looking to titter, you can’t go wrong — off the top of my head — with Vonnegut, Wilde, Wodehouse, Dorothy Parker, Mark Twain, Jonathan Ames, Hunter S. Thompson, Martin Amis’s Money, David Lodge, Russo’s Straight Man, Terry Pratchett, and a good chunk of Christopher Moore. But what’s your funniest book or writer?
Daniel Green replies to Jane Ciabattari’s hubris. And he’s right. If you’re using the words “business savvy” and “digested by the websites of larger newspapers” in relation to the litblogosphere, chances are you have as much joy and purpose as lima beans on a dinner plate.
A showdown between the world’s largest and the smaller dogs. By my calculations, that big dog is about 3.5 feet tall. Let us hope, for the sake of Boo Boo the Toy Chihauhua’s happy existence, that Gibson the Great Dane does not adopt a cannibalistic appetite. (via Jenny D)
Now here’s a strategy that should get Levi’s attention: Picador is planning to release new fiction in both hardcover and paperback form. This decision comes after hardcover sales have floundered. Is it possible that we’re at the end? Perhaps better book design and better paper might be an idea to consider.