Burglar in the Rye- Lawrence BlockThe Killing Circle- Andrew Pyper
The Writing Class- Jincy Willett
How I Became a Famous Novelist- Steve Hely
Blind Submission- Debra Ginsberg
Help me add to this list. The book should either be about writers, or books. Book about bookstores, libraries, writing, writing classes, etc.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
A List For Readers
I very belatedly read a nice note left on this site by a good Internet pal of mine, Yan. He's requested a Books of the Decade List.
I'm not much of a list maker as my memory is not geared towards facts, but rather geared towards narratives. That said, I decided to quickly pull together a list of sorts. I may add to this list as I remember more books I've enjoyed over the years. These are not the BEST books, and they may not even be the best books by the authors listed, but these are the books that came to mind. Here is a mix of my two most read genres: realistic (aka literary) fiction, and crime. I'm also trying to alert readers to lesser known books. You can all read lists from various newspapers and online mags that will list the same 50 books. I'm trying to list some books that might be overlooked. I've also included some bestsellers that I couldn't put down.
Here goes, not in any particular order:
I'm not much of a list maker as my memory is not geared towards facts, but rather geared towards narratives. That said, I decided to quickly pull together a list of sorts. I may add to this list as I remember more books I've enjoyed over the years. These are not the BEST books, and they may not even be the best books by the authors listed, but these are the books that came to mind. Here is a mix of my two most read genres: realistic (aka literary) fiction, and crime. I'm also trying to alert readers to lesser known books. You can all read lists from various newspapers and online mags that will list the same 50 books. I'm trying to list some books that might be overlooked. I've also included some bestsellers that I couldn't put down.
Here goes, not in any particular order:
- Old Filth- Jane Gardham Reminiscences of an aging Raj Orphan, British
- Out- Natsuo Kirino Twisted Japanese crime novel that is a psychological look into women's lives in Japan.
- Wake Up, Sir!- Jonathan Ames Funniest novel by Brooklyn's most lovable pervert.
- Eat the Document- Dana Spiotta 1970s radical activist on the lam/ 1990s convergence
- Carter Beats the Devil!- Glen David Gold Magic!
- The Dante Club- Matthew Pearl Famous writers confront a Dante conspiracy!
- Death of a Red Heroine- Qiu Xialong A Chinese detective who is poet as well.
- All She was Worth- Miyake Miyabe Japanese society from a woman's POV
- Inspector Imanishi Investigates- Seicho Matsumoto Another poet inspector!
- American Woman- Susan Choi (This is like a companion to Eat the Document- very similar themes and story lines)
- Niagara Falls all Over Again- Elizabeth McCraken (also read her memoir: An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination) The lives of a straight man and a comedian.
- The Little Friend- Donna Tartt Meth-heads and a girl who likes to learn secrets.
- Case Histories- Kate Atkinson (She started out doing non-crime fiction- Behind the Scenes at the Museum is a must read) Literate crime novel.
- Generation Loss- Elizabeth Hand (kind of a silly book, but pretty good) Gone to seed photographer grapples with monsters.
- To Say Nothing of the Dog- Connie Willis Time travel to the Victorian era. An homage to Three Men in a Boat (a book I have on my to-be-read list).
- The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo- Stieg Larsson Swedish crime trilogy starts with this one. Goes way beyond the conspiracy call of duty. Larsson mysteriously died after delivering this trilogy. Adds to the mystique. One of the most unusual female characters in recent memory.
Lorrie Moore: A Gate at the Stairs
Writing in this space more often is going to be one of my New Year's Resolutions.
Another one is: more writing, completing, submitting.
A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore
I joined a writing group a few months ago and it's proven to be a great decision. These group members, along with our facilitator, give me the ass-kicking feedback that I need. In the past I shared pieces with two or three good writer friends. Their feedback has been valuable, but there is something extra that you get from strangers that I think is good in addition to trusted readers.
That said- much of what Moore has done in this novel would have raised some questions among my writing group peers. This has been said before: Moore sketches out characters, and situations, in this novel that don't necessarily pan out. That is not to say that this novel isn't enjoyable, or admirable. It is both, but these characters and situations that don't seem to have long lasting consequences keep it from being great. I love her narrator. She seems like the kind of woman I'd like to be friends with. It's really a joy to spend time in her head, and to see the world through her eyes, but I'm actually surprised that this novel was published the way it was written. I wonder if it had not been written by Lorrie Moore if the novel even would have been published. If this had been by an unknown, would it have gotten past an agent?
Here is how I imagine the notes to the writer if it was not Lorrie Moore:
I'm not really sure what purpose this Brazilian/Muslim character serves.
Are readers really expected to believe that a tragic event could have been prevented if only the character had read her e-mail? Doesn't she have a telephone?
Why hinge the novel on an adoption if you're going to drop that story line 2/3rds of the way into the novel?
Etc.
But! I'm still glad I read the book. It made me hunger for more Moore. It was interesting to see what some writers can get away with, things that aren't necessarily good things. It's to Moore's credit and proof that she's such a talented writer, that despite the structural flaws in her novel, the writing was so strong, and the character so engaging, that we as readers forgive Moore these lapses in judgment. At least I did, to an extent.
Another one is: more writing, completing, submitting.
A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore
I joined a writing group a few months ago and it's proven to be a great decision. These group members, along with our facilitator, give me the ass-kicking feedback that I need. In the past I shared pieces with two or three good writer friends. Their feedback has been valuable, but there is something extra that you get from strangers that I think is good in addition to trusted readers.
That said- much of what Moore has done in this novel would have raised some questions among my writing group peers. This has been said before: Moore sketches out characters, and situations, in this novel that don't necessarily pan out. That is not to say that this novel isn't enjoyable, or admirable. It is both, but these characters and situations that don't seem to have long lasting consequences keep it from being great. I love her narrator. She seems like the kind of woman I'd like to be friends with. It's really a joy to spend time in her head, and to see the world through her eyes, but I'm actually surprised that this novel was published the way it was written. I wonder if it had not been written by Lorrie Moore if the novel even would have been published. If this had been by an unknown, would it have gotten past an agent?
Here is how I imagine the notes to the writer if it was not Lorrie Moore:
I'm not really sure what purpose this Brazilian/Muslim character serves.
Are readers really expected to believe that a tragic event could have been prevented if only the character had read her e-mail? Doesn't she have a telephone?
Why hinge the novel on an adoption if you're going to drop that story line 2/3rds of the way into the novel?
Etc.
But! I'm still glad I read the book. It made me hunger for more Moore. It was interesting to see what some writers can get away with, things that aren't necessarily good things. It's to Moore's credit and proof that she's such a talented writer, that despite the structural flaws in her novel, the writing was so strong, and the character so engaging, that we as readers forgive Moore these lapses in judgment. At least I did, to an extent.
Labels:
A Gate at the Stairs,
Lorrie Moore
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Personal Days by Ed Park
I recently tweeted that I can't help picturing Michael Scott from The Office as the Boss in Ed Park's Personal Days. I still stand by the theory that in some ways, The Office has ruined office fiction.
The first third of the book is told in a sadly funny second person. The revelations are familiar to anyone who has ever worked, period, but even more so if you've worked in an office in NYC.
In fact, the trials and tribulations, and observations are so familiar, it's hard to even distinguish what happened in the book with what I've experienced in my working life. Yet, what I have actually experienced is even more humiliating and soul crushing, but I left before it could kill me.
Not true of these office drones! Why don't they just get a better job? That's the question you have to ask yourself. They are collegial, but do they even like one another? I guess that's what happens when you work closely with people for a long time. You become a family and its hard to just leave your family. Especially if your family is under threat from some nameless shadowy entity. Perhaps that's the point Park is trying to make here. Work becomes a family away from home with all of the affection, friction, and dysfunction of your real family.
Ed Park almost lost me in the 2nd third since he's written it in the form of a legal document. Well, I am trusting the NY Times' assertion that it is in the form of a legal document. I couldn't figure it out and I wasn't sure if I wanted to finish reading the book if I had to skim my eyes over all the Roman numerals, etc. Sounds silly, but these days time is a premium and I am becoming less and less forgiving. I have little patience for formalist experimentation if it seems frivolous and not integral to the story.
That said, the book is good. Not great, but it allows you to live through the absurdities of American office life. It made me think about what I could do with all the material I have stored up...
(My last job was at a school in a former movie theater underneath the El, across the street from a live poultry market. Sound colorful? It was hell, but I managed to get out of there.)
The first third of the book is told in a sadly funny second person. The revelations are familiar to anyone who has ever worked, period, but even more so if you've worked in an office in NYC.
In fact, the trials and tribulations, and observations are so familiar, it's hard to even distinguish what happened in the book with what I've experienced in my working life. Yet, what I have actually experienced is even more humiliating and soul crushing, but I left before it could kill me.
Not true of these office drones! Why don't they just get a better job? That's the question you have to ask yourself. They are collegial, but do they even like one another? I guess that's what happens when you work closely with people for a long time. You become a family and its hard to just leave your family. Especially if your family is under threat from some nameless shadowy entity. Perhaps that's the point Park is trying to make here. Work becomes a family away from home with all of the affection, friction, and dysfunction of your real family.
Ed Park almost lost me in the 2nd third since he's written it in the form of a legal document. Well, I am trusting the NY Times' assertion that it is in the form of a legal document. I couldn't figure it out and I wasn't sure if I wanted to finish reading the book if I had to skim my eyes over all the Roman numerals, etc. Sounds silly, but these days time is a premium and I am becoming less and less forgiving. I have little patience for formalist experimentation if it seems frivolous and not integral to the story.
That said, the book is good. Not great, but it allows you to live through the absurdities of American office life. It made me think about what I could do with all the material I have stored up...
(My last job was at a school in a former movie theater underneath the El, across the street from a live poultry market. Sound colorful? It was hell, but I managed to get out of there.)
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Donate to a Good Cause
This is book related. Plus, I will post about some books I've read, very soon.
I am trying to start a book club at my school library and I posted a project on Donors Choose.
Book Club Project
Donate if you can, spread the word if you like.
Thanks!
I am trying to start a book club at my school library and I posted a project on Donors Choose.
Book Club Project
Donate if you can, spread the word if you like.
Thanks!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Graphic Memoirs
The Impostor's Daughter by Laurie Sandell
The premise of Sandell's memoir is compelling enough. It's too bad that the writing isn't as compelling as the story itself. Her father is an impostor, and always has been. He guards the mail, makes them move around, lies about his college degrees, and is generally a BIG FAT LIAR and MANIPULATOR. I read this book in one shot, so it must have been compelling enough, but really, the actually writing, paired with the drawings, was not memorable at all. No lines stick out in my mind, and I was ultimately disappointed. It struck me that in the right hands, this story could have easily been elevated from what comes off as a daughter's story of singularly sad childhood, to something more universal and artful. Some might defend Sandell's plain writing, but I think it would be condescending to the comic genre not to expect more from the actual written text.
If you want to read a graphic memoir that is truly compelling, then I suggest you read Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. The writing is just as compelling, on top of the inherent drama and intrigue that lies at the base of her memoir's premise. In Bechdel's case I believe she has not just given us a comic, but she has given us a piece of literature. That may be a grandiose statement, but when I'm left, years later, pondering issues she's brought up in her memoir, then I think she deserves that distinction.
The premise of Sandell's memoir is compelling enough. It's too bad that the writing isn't as compelling as the story itself. Her father is an impostor, and always has been. He guards the mail, makes them move around, lies about his college degrees, and is generally a BIG FAT LIAR and MANIPULATOR. I read this book in one shot, so it must have been compelling enough, but really, the actually writing, paired with the drawings, was not memorable at all. No lines stick out in my mind, and I was ultimately disappointed. It struck me that in the right hands, this story could have easily been elevated from what comes off as a daughter's story of singularly sad childhood, to something more universal and artful. Some might defend Sandell's plain writing, but I think it would be condescending to the comic genre not to expect more from the actual written text.
If you want to read a graphic memoir that is truly compelling, then I suggest you read Fun Home by Alison Bechdel. The writing is just as compelling, on top of the inherent drama and intrigue that lies at the base of her memoir's premise. In Bechdel's case I believe she has not just given us a comic, but she has given us a piece of literature. That may be a grandiose statement, but when I'm left, years later, pondering issues she's brought up in her memoir, then I think she deserves that distinction.
Labels:
comics,
graphic novels,
memoir
Monday, August 24, 2009
New Yorker Fiction: This One's a Keeper
War Dances: Sherman Alexie
I, like many readers/writers, have a subscription to the New Yorker. I began reading the New Yorker when I was in college and I used to wait with baited breath for the next issue. At that time I was reading the magazine because it was the only one that published fiction on a weekly basis. I was addicted to stories at that time. I consider that the beginning of my education in short story writing. I read story collections the way people listen to pop songs: compulsively. It was also at that time that I began to read not just as a reader but as a writer. I began to consciously study the construction of stories and the ideas behind stories, rather than simply reading a story for the mere enjoyment of reading one. I was studying stories because I liked stories, and I wanted to tell stories and write stories. I've always been a story teller. It's what allowed me to have some friends during my miserable middle school years. I told stories that were silly or funny. Sometimes people didn't believe me, but they listened. Which was odd, because I was known as THE GIRL WHO DOES NOT SPEAK. Those who know me now might be surprised, or not, depending on the context in which you know me.
Anyway, during that time when I began consciously studying story form I also began reading Sherman Alexie. I came across his short story collection, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, in a used book story in Albany, NY. I discovered plenty of writers then, but he's one of the few that I'm still reading, with pleasure.
What did I like about The Lone Ranger? The language. The way the stories read as if he were speaking them. The intimacy and seeming brutal honesty of his narrator. I liked that the stories were about poor people with problems like the people I knew growing up. I liked how honestly he talked about alcoholism, and spoke of the people who drank too much with humanity. Though his characters were down-and-out, he let them keep their dignity.
What do I like about War Dances? It's funny, but it's sad at the same time. Those are the kinds of stories I want to write, and the kinds I've tried to write. It remains to be seen if I have actually succeeded. Anyway, Alexie manages to write about death and aging in a way that seems fresh and interesting. We get the twin stories of the narrator's father's death and the narrator's brush with death and dying. He's able to do this with humor and sentiment. Which is difficult to do well.
Instead of reading this blog, go read the story.
I, like many readers/writers, have a subscription to the New Yorker. I began reading the New Yorker when I was in college and I used to wait with baited breath for the next issue. At that time I was reading the magazine because it was the only one that published fiction on a weekly basis. I was addicted to stories at that time. I consider that the beginning of my education in short story writing. I read story collections the way people listen to pop songs: compulsively. It was also at that time that I began to read not just as a reader but as a writer. I began to consciously study the construction of stories and the ideas behind stories, rather than simply reading a story for the mere enjoyment of reading one. I was studying stories because I liked stories, and I wanted to tell stories and write stories. I've always been a story teller. It's what allowed me to have some friends during my miserable middle school years. I told stories that were silly or funny. Sometimes people didn't believe me, but they listened. Which was odd, because I was known as THE GIRL WHO DOES NOT SPEAK. Those who know me now might be surprised, or not, depending on the context in which you know me.
Anyway, during that time when I began consciously studying story form I also began reading Sherman Alexie. I came across his short story collection, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, in a used book story in Albany, NY. I discovered plenty of writers then, but he's one of the few that I'm still reading, with pleasure.
What did I like about The Lone Ranger? The language. The way the stories read as if he were speaking them. The intimacy and seeming brutal honesty of his narrator. I liked that the stories were about poor people with problems like the people I knew growing up. I liked how honestly he talked about alcoholism, and spoke of the people who drank too much with humanity. Though his characters were down-and-out, he let them keep their dignity.
What do I like about War Dances? It's funny, but it's sad at the same time. Those are the kinds of stories I want to write, and the kinds I've tried to write. It remains to be seen if I have actually succeeded. Anyway, Alexie manages to write about death and aging in a way that seems fresh and interesting. We get the twin stories of the narrator's father's death and the narrator's brush with death and dying. He's able to do this with humor and sentiment. Which is difficult to do well.
Instead of reading this blog, go read the story.
Labels:
fiction,
Sherman Alexie,
short stories
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