Archives for October 3, 2007

• George Saunders gives a reading in Pittsburgh and discusses his writing and revising process. (Today I’m taking particular comfort in the quote, “What comes out in a first draft isn’t really you.”)
• “Light,” a new short story by Kelly Link which appears in the “Fantastic Women” issue of Tin House, is available online. That said, the entire issue looks worth seeking out, with stories by Judy Buditz, Shelley Jackson, Rikki Ducornet and others.
• Susan Cooper hints at what you already suspected after seeing the trailers: That the movie adaptation of Dark Is Rising is going to suck eggs.
(Latter two links via Gwenda, beloved sponsor of today’s ALN.)

Asheville got a nice write-up in the New York Times last weekend. Two of my favorite restaurants, Mela and Early Girl, get a shout-out. Even better, and stranger, is the inclusion of the “world famous Root Bar # 1,” which the Times describes (accurately) as “a dive bar with a great beer selection” where you can listen to great music and play “a game of rootball, a cross between horseshoes and bocce invented by the bar’s former owner, Max Chain.”*
As readers of Tingle Alley know, the Root Bar is my husband’s and my local, with Mr. Tingle holding honors as a one-time East Coast champion of rootball and a dedicated ambassador of the sport. Gwenda alerted us to the article; after reading it, Mr. Tingle remarked, “I hope you feel like I’m doing something that’s culturally important now. You know, instead of just going to a bar.”
*What a Zagat-y sentence that turned into.

• So how good is the writing produced by the Underground Literary Alliance anyway? Dan Green assesses two novels published by the group, James Nowlan’s Security and The Pornographic Flabbergasted Emus by Wred Fright.
• BASS guest editor Stephen King opines on the health of the short story. (Via Ed.)

In October I’ll be host
To witches, goblins, and a ghost.
I’ll serve them chicken soup on toast.
Spooky once! Spooky twice!
Spooky chicken soup with rice!
Maurice Sendak, Chicken Soup with Rice
(Typed from memory, I’ll have you know.)

Last week I posed a question about reading children’s books as an adult:

What children’s classics did you first discover as an adult (Harry Potter doesn’t count), and how did it make you feel–old? young again?

CAAF obliged me here (in a post with a title I loved), Mr. Teachout here (not too shabby on the title front himself). Over at Shaken & Stirred, the lovely Gwenda weighed in with two titles, one of which, I Capture the Castle, is a favorite of my friend Margot and on my to-do list. One reader submitted Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy. Another reader wrote as follows:

I’ve been reading mostly mid-20th-century kid lit to my kids for the last few years, and though I’ll happily recite our favorites–Roald Dahl (especially Charlie, James and the BFG), Walter Brooks’s Freddy the Pig series, Sid Fleischman’s Americana tales like By the Great Horn Spoon!, and so on– I wouldn’t say many of them have been striking literary experiences for me. I’ve enjoyed their enjoyment of them, more so than the books themselves.
One exception– though I have to admit we’re still in the process of reading it– is Johnny Tremain. It really is a well-written and psychologically acute portrait of a young man’s progress, and I can tell my sons are pretty transfixed by the hardness of life in Revolutionary War era Boston, by Johnny’s wavering on the edge of bad habits and criminality, and by the way his search for a place for himself parallels America’s need to escape England’s control and take charge of its own destiny. (Okay, maybe they don’t get that yet, but Dad sees it coming.) I’d rank it among the better novels I’ve read (or read half of) lately, irrespective of genre.

I’ve never read Johnny Tremain, but the Roald Dahl reference strikes a chord. The book of his I really cottoned to was none of those mentioned by my correspondent but The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More. Wonderful indeed. I can remember how this book felt in my hands. The title story may have been my first conscious experience of reading a story within a story. I still feel a shiver remembering my dismay and delight at being returned from the nested story, about an Indian yogi who cultivated the power to see through opaque things, to the story proper, about Henry Sugar, who was inspired by the yogi’s story to develop such powers himself. When I first read the story, I became absorbed in the embedded history of the yogi to the point of forgetting about Henry Sugar entirely. Coming back to his story–being treated to more story, even after the yogi’s had ended–was deliciously satisfying; I hadn’t known that stories could be quite so sly and rich.
Thanks to all who wrote. And don’t forget to visit Chicken Spaghetti for kids’ books blogging. (Which reminds me of another personal all-time favorite: Chicken Soup with Rice.)

I wrote three–yes, three–pieces yesterday. It isn’t easy getting ready for your honeymoon.
UPDATE: I wrote another one this morning. Ha!

Someone to hold you too close,

Someone to hurt you too deep,

Someone to sit in your chair,

To ruin your sleep.

Someone to crowd you with love,

Someone to force you to care,

Someone to make you come through,

Who’ll always be there,

As frightened as you

Of being alive.

Stephen Sondheim, “Being Alive” (from Company)