Brandywine Books
The Paris Review Wodehouse Interview
From The Paris Review's interview of Wodehouse, here's something that relates a recent post on how quickly writers write:
TPR: How long does it take you to write a novel?
Wodehouse: Well, in the old days I used to rely on it about three months, but now it night take any length of time. I forget exactly how long
Bachelors Anonymous took, but it must have been six of seven months.
TPR: That still seems very fast to me.
W: It's still good, yes.
Wodehouse Interview Now Available
The Paris Review has released it's 1975 interview of P.G. Wodehouse, in which he says, "Once you go saying to yourself, 'This is a pretty weak plot as it stands, but I'm such a hell of a writer that my magic touch will make it OK,' you're sunk."
So What Is a Cozy Good For?
World's blog notes the upcoming Edgar Awards tonight with a quote from a veteren mystery writer.
"Cozies are not serious literature. They don't deserve to win [an Edgar]".
Many Thanks
Jared praises the blog and Lars in a post today from
Thinklings.org. "
Novelist Lars Walker is one of the newest members of the god-blogosphere, but he is already one of the better practitioners of the Art of Blog. He has recently begun co-blogging at Phil Wade's fantastic literary blog, 'Brandywine Books,' and his posts are phenomenal. Seriously. Lars proves in my mind something I've long suspected:
writers make the best bloggers. No offense to everyone who blogs because they 'have something to say' or because they 'are really smart,' but I'll take the writers any day."
Part of the Carnival
Lars' post on his difficult experience at a retreat center is one of the 60 submissions to this week's
Wittenberg Gate: Christian Carnival. Many of the other submissions look recommendable, especially Sherry's review and excerpts from Marilynne Robinson's
Gilead.
Philosophical Inquiry
I have a philosophical question for you. I introduce it in those terms because we usually answer this question in a social way, not really answering but returning the information sought within the context in which it's asked. But I want to ask it on a deep level. Answer briefly or verbosely, but honestly. Who are you?
I am a believer, a dreamer, and something of a follower.
And who are you?
Brilliant! Dazzling! Incandescent!
Great posts over on
Collected Misc. recently.
David Thayer writes on blogging and review today. "The new trend in reviewing is blurbing. Blurbs are fun and easy to create. Take a word like incandescent, add an exclamation point. Incandescent! Try adding an adverb. Really Incandescent! Keep practicing. If nothing else General Electric might sign you up as a copywriter."
Kevin reviews
Our Napoleon in Rags by Kirby Gann, calling it "ambitious." "The strength of the work doesn't lie in 'hot button issues' or 'scathing commentary' but in the descriptions of character and setting. This part of urban America is worthy of exploration and description and Gann should be commended for taking it on."
I have a couple posts on blogging. One
jumps off of an article in the Village Voice, challenging the notion that blogs are parasites on mainstream media, to which David responds
with some humor. The
other post asks if there really are only 35,000 readers of serious fiction and if the Center for Book Culture is partly to blame for it. My impression is that the Center believes life is purposeless, that happiness is a fantasy or only a moment within distraction, and that they promote "serious" books with depressing themes like this while complaining that no one wants to read them.
Everything Has Its Uttermost Source In the One
Lars’ posts on
Calvinism, fictional character motivation, and a fantasy on
God’s role in the world reminded me of the story that leads Tolkien’s
Simarillion. The One, Eru, who is called Illúvatar by the elves, taught the Ainur, his first creation, principles of music, and they sang for him individually and in small groups. After a time, he declared to them a majestic theme and said, “I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music. And since I have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will. But I will sit and hearken, and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song.”
Tolkien writes, “Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashion the theme of Illúvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in a harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Illúvatar were filled to overflowing . . .”
But the music continued, Melkor, who was later called Morgoth and became the master of Sauron, tried to turn the music to honor him and increase his part of the song. His efforts cause discord, “and many that sang nigh him grew despondent, and their thought was disturbed and their music faltered; but some began to attune their music to his rather than to the thought which they had at first. Then the discord of Melkor spread ever wider, and the melodies which had been heard before foundered in a sea of turbulent sound. But Illúvatar sat and hearkened until it seemed that about his throne there was a raging storm, as of dark waters that made war one upon another in an endless wrath that would not be assuaged.”
Illúvatar stood and introduced a new theme which swelled in beauty amid the cacophony; but Melkor’s music fought for dominance. Illúvatar stood a second time. His third theme “seemed at first soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity. And it seemed at last that there was two musics progressing at one time before the seat of Illúvatar, and they were utterly at variance. The one was deep and wide and beautiful but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came. The other had now achieved a unity of its own; but it was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes.”
Finally, Illúvatar stopped the music. He said he would show the Ainur the result of their work. “And thou, Melkor, shalt see that no theme may be played that hath not its uttermost source in me, nor can an alter the music in my despite. For he that attemptesth this shall prove but mine instrument in the devising of things more wonderful, which he himself hath not imagined.”
And then they saw a vision of the creation of the world and part of the history which they had sung into being. It wasn’t actually created, which some of the Ainur learned when they went into it, and they had to build it themselves; but it was predestined as it were by Illúvatar’s music. And he said, “Behold your Music! . . . Each of you shall find . . . all those things which it may seem that he himself devised or added. And thou, Melkor, wilt discover all the secret thoughts of thy mind, and wilt perceive that they are but a part of the whole and tributary to its glory.”
That eloquently describes how I view the world, a paradox of freedom and destiny.
Partial praise for Peretti's Monster
Jared, who is no longer
a blogger but is soon to be a strong author gifted by the Spirit to craft inspiring, insightful story and answer the questions of hopeful would-be writers like “Mr. Wilson, how can I become a writer?” (Learn to type), has quoted the
Entertainment Weekly review of Frank Peretti’s lastest,
Monster, in the comments of one of his excellent posts on Christians in art. And though I was silent before, let me say that Jared’s blog is an asset to the blogosphere. His writing is sound, his thinking clear; his heart appears to be honest. I didn’t write a tribute to him when he decided to drop blogging at the beginning of the month in part because I couldn’t decide what to say. I wanted to ring the bells and make him king for a day, but I held back in a shadow of uncertainty. I hope to have many opportunities to report on his publishing success in the coming years.
So,
he quoted EW on Monster yesterday. They don’t like it. “Monster is flabby and not very thrilling, filled with undercooked attacks on evolution.”
Christian Fiction Review takes up the opposing view, saying it isn’t Peretti’s best, but it is enjoyable. “The only problem with it is that some things are revealed too quickly. Following the initial terrifying first encounter with the monster, Beck is captured. While that creates the conflict for the rest of the book, it also allows the reader to see what Beck sees, which takes away much of the mystery and horror that surrounded the first encounter. The conflict shifts to trying to find her and trace the monster's origin.”
Publishers Weekly praises the prose, but finds the message overbearing. “The author's prose is clear and crisp, with only a few lapses into Lovecraftian hyperbole,” but the theme of the story begins to weigh it down about midway “and leads it to an unsatisfying and somewhat confusing end.”
Amazon reviewer Wade Tisthammer (which is a great name for a fantasy/sci-fi reviewer though I originally read it as trist-hammer which sounds more like an ambitious guidance counselor) says the book was “fun.” He suggests PW’s complaint about an overbearing message is “puzzling.” “The book does contain a single criticism regarding evolution: the paucity of observed beneficial mutations. But this grew organically out of the story and led directly to the cause of the main conflict.” He gives it 3 stars mostly because it has too many, under-developed characters.
Further: I want to include my impression of Peretti's last thriller,
Visitation. I had high hopes for it and enjoyed reading it a few years ago. The subject has potential to the brim; but I think it is slower moving than it should be because it tries to develop a couple good characters. If that development had gone deeper, if more spirit had been revealed, than I would be satisfied, but it only peers into the deep water while staying on the shallow side. Many strong descriptions and personal thoughts are left unwritten. Still, I have no style complaints like some other Christian authors I've read. I think with the right editor or friend, Peretti could write a novel to make
This Present Darkness look like a first draft.
Kelly Hughes on Books and Publicity
As a would-be author, I like to fantasize that if I write it, they will read--they being millions, if not hundreds, of readers. I don't want to be famous; I just want to be read. But in the publishing world, many people work behind the scenes to produce and draw attention to a book. I have had the privilege of corresponding with one of those booklovers in the shadows. Kelly Hughes is president of
DeChant-Hughes & Assoc, Inc, a Chicago-based public relations agency specializing in national media coverage for books on religious thought, spirituality, family life issues, personal growth, social and cultural issues and pop culture. Here are a few questions about her work and her love of books.
How does the publicity process work? Do you bid for services with a publisher? Are fees relative to sales?
KH: Generally, a publisher contacts me months before pub date to tell me about the book and check my interest in submitting a proposal. The proposal outlines my recommendations for the publicity campaign, along with fees and an estimate of expenses. Fees are not relative to sales, although a publisher's expectation of how well a book will do may influence their decision on whether to retain outside PR help.
How many books do you read in a week or month? Is it all for business purposes or are you able to get in some leisure reading?
KH: It's difficult to quantify because I have to read so many books for work. I do manage to find time for personal reading, too. I am reading three books this week, two for work, and one for me: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson.
I see that your firm marketed Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie. Was it anticipated to be a long-term bestseller before its release?
KH: Mitch always believed in the book and its potential to change lives.
His commitment was very deep, very personal. He was tireless in his efforts and his cooperation with the publicity process. Tuesdays with Morrie is a classic "word-of-mouth" book -- it got great media coverage, but when people bought it and read it, it affected them deeply, and they would talk about it, recommend it, and buy it for others as gifts. It was remarkable to see the enthusiastic support for that book from the readers.
How do you define a successful campaign? Is it totally subjective to perceived sales? Are there certain specifics, like a mention or review by select publications, which add up to success despite sale numbers?
KH: A successful campaign secures coverage in the media that reaches the potential audience for the book, and spurs the kind of word-of-mouth that can be so important to a book's success. Publicity is just one factor, however. Several other factors affect sales, such as distribution, availability, cover, other marketing efforts, competition and price, among others. There are some books that get excellent media coverage and still don't sell. Some books would have been better as magazine articles -- people will spend the time to read a long article about it, but that's all they feel they need to know, and they're not willing to shell out $25 for the book.
Do you care about Amazon.com ranking?
KH: Yes, but I take it with a grain of salt. I don't obsessively check it. I understand how unpredictable the ranking is--a sudden bump may reflect the sale of just one copy. It's all relative to how the other millions of books are doing. It is fun to see the ranking jump after an interview; it's nice to be able to trace it do some specific media coverage.
What made you a book lover in your youth?
KH: My parents were both avid readers. Our house was filled with books, newspapers and magazines. When I was a kid, Chicago was a four-newspaper town, and we had at least two and sometimes all four everyday. My parents encouraged our love of reading. Some of my earliest childhood memories involve books. We had big volumes of Hans Christian Anderson and Brothers Grimm fairy tales I remember spend hours reading. The first "grown-up books" I received as gifts one Christmas were a collection of Edgar Allan Poe stories, and World's Most Amazing Baseball Stories (I was a big Chicago White Sox fan at the time). We made frequent trips to the library, and, we were allowed to order several books from each issue of Scholastic Book Club News. I remember clearly how much I looked forward to that newsletter, and the books that followed.
Do you have a favorite book or series or author?
KH: This is a hard one! I don't think I can narrow it down, so I'll just name some authors I love. I know I'm going to look at this later and think, "I can't believe I forgot so-and-so, my favorite author of all time!"
I read a lot of fiction, and Muriel Spark, Ann Patchett, Elizabeth McCracken, Roddy Doyle, William Trevor, John McGahern, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and Richard Russo are tops on my list. Last year at the Calvin Festival of Faith & Writing I was introduced to the work of Tim Gautreaux; he quickly became a favorite. One of the novels I will actually take the time to re-read is A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. I am endlessly amused by Wodehouse's Jeeves & Wooster series and re-read the stories often.
I also enjoy nonfiction, history and biography. Some of my favorites in nonfiction are Thomas Lynch, the poet and essayist; Paul Theroux's travel writing, especially The Happy Isles of Oceania and Peter Guralnick's two-volume biography of Elvis, Last Train to Memphis and Careless Love. I enjoy reading spiritual memoir, which is something of a "busman's holiday" for me, such as Anne Lamott and Kathleen Norris. The most charming, witty, engaging memoirs I have ever read, period, are two by the actor Alec Guinness -- both are part spiritual memoir and part life-in-the-theater memoir: Blessings in Disguise and My Name Escapes Me.
Prolific Authors and the Writer's Mythic
Lars, your post skimmed from
Writer's Digest reminded me of an article which has probably been discussed or linked to on most lit-blogs. It's from the
CBA in Canada. The writer seems perturbed that some authors don't labor over their works "nursing their sixth cup of coffee and struggling to craft a sentence that won’t cause them to throw up their hands in futility and jettison the page to the wastepaper basket." Some authors--by which I mean some strong, popular authors whose books have a bit of shelflife--write quickly.
"Where most authors sweat to produce 1,000 words a day without self-mutilation, Alexander McCall Smith has been known to bang out three times that in a single sitting. He’s a living rebuke of the notion that novel-writing is the least bit arduous."
He writes mysteries without the off-putting gore; his books are driven by characters and setting rather than plot. . . . The books are amiably escapist, and because they’re crafted with something finer than the workmanlike prose of a John Grisham or Danielle Steel, they’re deemed serious fiction. “He makes you feel like you’re there,” says Marian Misters, co-owner of Toronto bookshop Sleuth of Baker Street. “You can drink the rooibos tea, you can smell the village. And I think people love to read that.”
The article complains that John Updike writes too much, saying, "It hearkens back to this notion we have of how 'serious' novels are created — that every sentence is the result of years of contemplation and agonized toil. Anything less is deemed . . . purely for a commercial audience. Nathalie Atkinson, Canadian correspondent for Publishers Weekly, acknowledges the stigma. 'If a Jonathan Lethem produced something like
The Fortress of Solitude every year and a half, I think he would be lauded a lot less,' she says. And yet, there are some literary authors who we embrace for their prodigiousness. Humorist P.G. Wodehouse wrote somewhere in the neighbourhood of 100 novels, but has never been viewed as a mere word factory."
I believe the number of Wodehouse novels is 93, but what is this about a good author writing too fast? Envy? If the books are good, praise them, buy them, talk about them; if they aren't, don't. If Tolkien wrote
The Lord of the Rings in three years
instead of 17 or so, it would still be great book.
For Poetry, Follow the Links, Young Man
I remember saying that Sherry's blog,
Semicolon, is a better lit-blog than mine, and if I did say that, I was I right. It still is. She has several poetry posts for this month, and today's begins with a great quote:
"There is nothing wrong with poetry that is entertaining and easy to understand. Genius could be the ability to say a profound thing in a simple way." –- Charles Bukowski
Amen! Abscurity is not the highest virtue of poetry, though I wonder if some think it is and inwardly enjoy writing poems which are unreadable to most, holding themselves above the hoi polloi I suppose. But not here.
And not at Semicolon either.
The Eloquent Professor Bellow
[by way of
Powerline] Columnist
John Podhoretz writes on a University of Chicago seminar series with Saul Bellow and Allan Bloom.
Bloom was a tall, imposing man--sloppy and careless, dripping cigarette ash that would burn little holes in his very expensive suits and ties. He spoke loudly, often exploding into laughter at his own cleverness and compelling attention with a strange stutter,
Bellow, by contrast, was neat and precise, slight and thin; he spoke in a quiet and deliberate manner that commanded attention as easily as Bloom's histrionics.
... [Bellow] would speak for three or four minutes. And when he was finished, you realized that what he had just done was spontaneously speak a beautifully written essay. Every word in every sentence had been exactly where it should have been, each sentence flowed perfectly from the last, without a pause or an "um" or any of the other verbal devices we lesser mortals use to gather our thoughts as we speak.
He goes on to describe a time Bellow showed Bloom that an old romance was wordy and difficult, not the "most profound depiction of romantic passion the world had ever seen" as Bloom thought it was.
John Podhoretz is a columnist for the New York Post and National Review Online, an editor with the Weekly Standard and ReganBooks, and a FOX News Channel contributor.
Poetry Is Harder to Read
The Scotsman reports that psychologists at Dundee and St. Andrews universities believe poetry is more demanding on your mind than prose.
By monitoring the way different forms of text are read, they found poetry generated far more eye movement which is associated with deeper thought. Subjects were found to read poems slowly, concentrating and re-reading individual lines more than they did with prose. Preliminary studies using brain imaging technology also showed greater levels of cerebral activity when people listened to poems being read aloud.
The researchers say that while we would like to think this stimulation comes from intentional concentration and deeper thought, it mimics the pattern shown by dyslexic readers who have difficulty reading anything. One psychologist said, "Not many people pick up books of poetry anymore to read. You have to wonder if people find them too hard."
Saul Bellow Dies at Age 89
Nextbook has a good digest of links on the thoroughly American, Canadian-born, Jewish author Saul Bellow. I quoted from a couple of their articles on
Collected Misc. and I'll quote a few more sentences here. In 1970,
Bellow asked, "Are the Jews somehow characteristically American? Well, they have a certain kind of feeling for the poetry of American life quite apart from Jewish life, I think. They have the eye of the foreigner for it, that is to say, everybody in the U.S. is something of a foreigner. . . "
Procrastination
To-morrow you will live, you always cry;
In what far country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
'Tis so far fetched, this morrow, that I fear
'Twill be both very old and very dear.
To-morrow I will live, the fool does say;
To-day itself's too late: the wise lived yesterday.
by
Martial, (A.D. 40-104) the Roman epigram poet (blogged for National Poetry Month)
Briccetti's Poetry Is Worthwhile
Yesterday, I said if you want poetry that makes you scratch your head, sign up for the
Poem-a-day by the Academy of American Poets. I admit that I thought the chosen poems would be a bit thick, if you know what I mean. So I’m pleased to report that the first poem out of the box is thoughtful and beautiful. Lee Briccetti’s “Sacred Heart” is available
on the academy’s website.
“Even as a girl I knew the heart was not a valentine;
it was wet, like a leopard frog on a lily pad”
The poem meditates on a painting of Jesus with an exposed chest, showing his heart glowing within him. I may not understand Briccetti’s intent in “Sacred Heart,” which seems to be a plea for emotional or spiritual salvation, but I admire the lack of bitterness which I think I see in many modern poems.
The poem is in a collection called
Day Mark, published in March by
Four Way Books. Another poem form the book, called “Something Useful,” is published on their website. It’s a warm-hearted perspective on “the fabulous bread of your fortunate life.”
We have a few questions for you. It will only take a minute.
You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be? I have blogged on this idea before, and since I began that thread, I choose the Bible. Somebody had to do it, so I got it out of the way. If that was taken already and I was a late-comer to the F451 group, I would choose The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. If that was taken, I’d probably have to stick with a Southern novel.
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
I think had a crush on Daisy Buchanan of The Great Gatsby, but it didn’t last. I know Robert Redford starred in a movie version of the book, and I’m sure that if I had had his female co-star in mind, (um, Mia Farrow) I would not have been ‘crushed.’ Nothing against the actress. The clarity of the woman would have removed the affection, I’m fairly certain.
The last book you bought is:
The Bible and the Future, by Anthony Hoekema
The last book you read:
I think the last book I finished was P.G. Wodehouse’s The Inimitable Jeeves. If I were to interpret this question as the last book out of which I read, it would be the Bible ( but that’s a lifetime habit) and before that Why the Sky is Blue (see below)
What are you currently reading?
Why the Sky Is Blue, by Susan Meissner
Don't Waste Your Life, by John Piper
The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Think Biblically! Recovering a Christian Worldview, ed. by John MacArthur
Five books you would take to a deserted island:
What you mean is that if I were to release all of my books except five, which ones would I keep (whether or not I currently own them)?
1. The Bible (without which I could not do)
2. The Works of Shakespeare (without which I would not want to do)
3. The Latest Merriam-Webster’s (because the OED is 20 stinking volumes)
4. Two blank books (in which I would write)
I’m glad that question is finally over. I kept wanting to choose Robinson Crusoe, but I couldn't bring myself to it.
Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why:
Marla b/c she would have interesting answers
Kevin b/c he would have interesting answers
OGIC b/c she probably could answer these in her sleep, interestingly
[I failed to mention earlier that I received this meme from that great west coast book reviewer, father, and all around nice guy, Will Duquette.]
Jack Chick on Blondie
Forward, the design blog, passes on
a shocking report that Jack Chick has purchased many classic comic strips in an effort to beat people over the head with the Gospel. With the still-funny Blondie comic, Chick has began "Dagwood, This Was Your Life!" in which the American middle class husband is judged for laziness and gluttony. This effort could have more taste than the imitation Calvin car decals, but it's definitely more sacrilegious.
A Middle Earth Limerick
This being April Fool's Day and the first day of National Poetry Month and a blog whose title echoes of Tolkien's Middle Earth, allow me to submit a limerick written by a fan named Old Took, found on
TheOneRing.net.
There once was a hobbit who said,
"My uncle is def'nitely dead.
He left me a mathom,
whose use I can't fathom,
now I wear it up on my head!"
I hope to blog a good bit of poetry this month, so be forwarned. If you want something that will surely make you scratch your head, sign up for a poem a day from the Academy of American Poets
via this handy link.
