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Summer Is for Reading

June 14, 2010 in library, summer by Claire | 5 comments

I had the good fortune to grow up in a family that owned a summer house on a lake about two hours from our home.  Once school was out in June, we would all load up into the station wagon and head north.   There was something so blissful about turning off the highway and suddenly seeing familiar houses, roads, and even cemeteries.  The first one who spotted the lake through the trees would cry out in delight.  And a little while later we’d be heading down, down, down our very steep driveway to the oddly modern and uncottagelike building my parents had commissioned when I was an infant.

Our lake in New Hampshire. Wish I were there.

My mom and the kids stayed all summer; my father would leave early Monday morning, work all week back in Boston, then drive back Friday night for the weekends.  During the summer he really only slept well in the mountains, by the lake, where the air mostly stayed cool, so he took off whatever time he could and invited everyone he knew to come spend the day or the weekend with us there.  The house was always full, my mother planning, shopping for, and preparing meal after meal after meal for what could be dozens of guests on any given weekend.  I can’t imagine how much work it was for her: there wasn’t any take-out in that small town back in those days, and for decades there also wasn’t a dishwasher in the house, unless you counted the five kids.

There also wasn’t a TV in the house.  Years later, my father would give in and get a tiny TV set–mostly so he could watch tennis matches on it–but for the first decade or so, all we had was a radio that played kids’ programs on Sunday mornings.

Five kids, two and a half months, many rainy days . . . what was a mother to do?

Go to a library, of course.  Once a week we’d all pile into the car, drive to the town library and emerge with our arms filled with piles of books.  And for the next seven days, when we weren’t outside swimming or catching frogs or playing in our sandy driveway (just right for digging tunnels), we were draped over various pieces of furniture, reading. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Jewish Book Council: A Friend to Authors

June 3, 2010 in award, Literary Event by Claire | 1 comment

So when my publishers asked if they could fly me in to do a Jewish Book Council event in New York in May, I said yes, assuming it would be something similar to previous literary festivals I’ve done, where you speak either alone or on a panel for 20 minutes to an hour.

My sister said, “Oh, I know this event–a friend of mine did it.  You and a bunch of  other authors go and speak for like five minutes–it’s essentially an audition to get booked to speak at Jewish Community Centers and temples around the country.”  I laughed and said something along the lines of, “Silly sister!  You don’t know what you’re talking about.  This is just a book festival.”  And I continued to cling to that belief until I got all the official info about the event and discovered I would be one of fifty authors that night (and 150 overall since there were two other nights of the event), each speaking for TWO MINUTES.

Clearly I needed to do a little more research on the Jewish Book Council, so I visited their website and read, “The Mission of the Jewish Book Council is to: promote the reading, writing and publishing of quality Jewish content books./Serve as the resource center for information about the North American Jewish literary scene./Serve as the coordinating body of Jewish literary activity in North America.”

Toward this end, they host these “Meet the Author” events–and then coordinate speaking tours for the authors who participate (assuming, that is, that your two-minute speech is appealing enough to get you bookings–more on the pressure of that down below).  They also present a National Jewish Book Award, and they . . . well, visit the website and see.  They have a lot of programs, events, and resources, all aimed at promoting Jewish authors and/or books with Jewish content.

So here’s how the actual “Meet the Author” event worked: the authors (whose publishers had submitted their names to the Council and had to be formally accepted by the JBC) filled up the first three rows in the auditorium.  In alphabetical order, each of us ran up to the podium in turn, spoke rapidly for two minutes (although some people ran over and I think you know who you are), and ran back off.  One right after the other.

This went on for over TWO HOURS.  One author played the fiddle and another one drew a picture: they were the smart ones because they stood out.  Although plenty of people stood out for their sheer brilliance.  Actually, almost everyone there was brilliant.  It was an impressive group of writers–which made it hard for someone like me not to feel like a bit of an impostor–a potato chip left on a table filled with foie gras and filet mignon.

There were quite a few books I’d personally like to have heard more about (and plan on reading) and while I don’t know if I’ll end up booked at any events, I think it’s a wonderful way for authors to find new venues to present their work in–something we’re all looking for.  And it was sheer joy to be surrounded by so many people who love books.

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The Girl Who Played with the Hornet’s Dragon

May 25, 2010 in book review, international, Uncategorized by Claire | 3 comments

Stieg Larsson’s third and final book in the Lisbeth Salander series has just been published and is, predictably, #1 on Amazon’s bestselling list (I just checked: you get only the most current news on bookstorepeople.com).  The New York Times just ran an amazing piece on the late author and the battle over his estate, which I recommend you read if you’re interested in his back story or you just like to see lots of photos of healthy looking Swedes in little round glasses.  (Are little round glasses a requirement for Swedish citizenship?  I’m just wondering.)

Anyway, all the real life intrigue you could want is in that piece: the mystery of whether Larsson’s girlfriend really ghost-wrote the book (she was a better writer than he was, according to some of those interviewed), whether his death was an assassination because he was a well-known journalist with a crusade against the right wing, and whether a fourth book is forthcoming (a large part of it supposedly has been written–but whether by Stieg or his girlfriend is up for debate).

Me, I’m just going to talk about the books, all of which I’ve read.  I think I mentioned in my post about Italy that my husband scored a copy of the European edition of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest over our vacation there.  (Side note: it’s “hornet’s nest” in the American edition.  Anyone care to debate where the apostrophe should go?)  I grabbed it and read it before he could (which gives you a fair amount of insight into our relationship and, yes, he is long-suffering), for one reason and one reason only:

Those three books are pretty much the best vacation reading ever.

Which isn’t to say I love them.  I don’t actually.  I have huge problems with all three books, the main one being that while Lisbeth Salander is a fantastic, brilliant, fascinating character, no one else in the books is memorable.  Really.  Even the “hero,” Mikael Blomkvist, never came alive for me.  He’s handsome, I guess, because every woman in the books wants to sleep with him, and he’s a player because he goes ahead and sleeps with them all, and he, like Larsson, is a crusader against evil conspiracies . . .  but I never believed in him.  Not the way I did in Lisbeth.  Which, by the way, is why I liked the second book best and the third one least: the second one had the most Lisbeth, the third one the least amount of her.

As for all the other characters . . . I don’t know.  They just didn’t make an impression on me.  Blomkvist’s long term girlfriend is married to a guy who’s bisexual and they all seem okay with the various relationships which is kind of cool (and seems very European to me) but I never got a good feel for her.  She was smart and tough: I know because Larsson basically tells you so.  But I didn’t care about her, or about almost anyone in the book except Lisbeth.  But I LOVED her. Read the rest of this entry »

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Opposable Thumbs Make It So Hard to Turn a Page

May 16, 2010 in Uncategorized by Claire | No comments

Dogs, Cats, and Books

A friend of mine has a book coming out that’s told from a dog’s point of view.  The book is terrific–I had the good fortune to read an advance copy–and if you’ve ever loved a dog, it will ring very true for you and wring some tears from you as well.  (Check it out at www.adogspurpose.com and while you’re on the site, click on the dog of the week contest and vote for Harvey, the yellow lab who’s lying down almost cheek to cheek with a really good-looking Persian cat dude.  My daughter nominated Harvey and he hasn’t won yet so we could use the votes.)

Anyway, this has me thinking about animal books, both fiction and nonfiction.  It also inspired me to look up pet bookstores online, a niche I’ve never heard of.   If anyone knows of a bookstore catering to pet owners, I’d love to hear about it.  (I’d be even more fascinated by accounts of a bookstore catering to the actual pets, but as I mentioned in the title of this post, I really don’t think you’re going to find a lot of animal readers because of that whole missing opposable thumb thing.  Maybe Kindles will change that.  I’m fairly certain I could train Harvey to use a Kindle.)  I have found some online bookstores that offer a range of books about dogs, but I’d love to know if there’s a real Indie somewhere that stocks mostly animal-related titles.

Animal books fall into several categories.  There’s the advice book, best exemplified by the Monks of New Skete and their line of really smart books about training and raising puppies.  I don’t know anyone who’s serious about dogs who hasn’t consulted one of their books–they really do seem to be the best ones out there.  Then there’s the non-fiction memoir kind of book. like Marley & Me which I haven’t actually read, but I did see the movie (the ultimate Hollywood phrase).  Loved the dog, hated the humans.

Animal fiction–stories in which the protagonist is actually an animal–run the risk of being twee.  I remember when everyone around me was reading Jonathan Livingston Seagull (man, that dates me).  I couldn’t stand it.  On the other hand, I read The Incredible Journey when I was little and loved it, and don’t even get me started on my passion for Watership Down.  No, do, because I have a funny story about that.  My father told me to read it.  I was probably like 12 at the time and deep into my “I won’t do anything my parents tell me to do” stage (I’m still waiting for that one to pass).  Anyway, my dad said I’d like it, I said, “I’m not interested in a book about rabbits” and he said, “Just try it,” and I said, “I won’t like it,” and he said I had to read a chapter before lunch, and then by dinner time I hadn’t lifted my head up from the book and I finished it in like two days because I loved it so so much.

So books about animals can be fantastic if you can achieve that delicate balance between over-anthropomorphizing them and keeping the audience engaged and sympathetic.  (One interesting thing about my friend’s book A Dog’s Purpose is that he was very careful to keep the dog’s comprehension of any dialogue to the only words a dog would understand, so while the reader can follow a conversation, the dog himself only registers his name and words like “walk” or “biscuit”–it’s a really nice way of staying true to the narrator’s doggy nature while letting the reader have the information he or she needs.)

The truth is, those of us who are pet owners are a pretty ready audience, eager to be pleased.  There are, I think, universal experiences that come with pet ownership: it’s a more challenging and frustrating experience than usually represented (a lot messier too in all sorts of ways) and yet there is something about those moments when you’re curled up with your dog or cat or snake or whatever that can make life feel that much more endurable.  If a book can tap into that feeling, it’s going to get to you (if you like pets–I know some people, mostly in the family I grew up in, who don’t).

And if someone can tell me why my cat always waits until I’ve actually started peeing to paw at the bathroom door, could you please do that?  I don’t care if it’s in a book of advice, a memoir, or a novel: just tell me why I can hold the door open for ten minutes, coaxing him to come in and he won’t but the second I give up, close the door and proceed with the task at hand, that’s when he starts scratching at it furiously.  If you can explain that, I’ll buy your book, whatever it costs.

(Confidential to Kim: are we allowed to talk about bodily functions in this blog?   If not, my bad.)

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The One Book You Should Read. (But only if you want to . . .)

April 30, 2010 in book review, humor by Claire | 9 comments

I don’t make a habit of telling people they need to read certain books.  Chacun a son gout, I always say, which, roughly translated, means something about how gout is a genetic disease you can pass on to your son.

Seriously, people’s tastes are so drastically different you have to know your audience.  My father told me to read Elegance of the Hedgehog because he loved it, so I borrowed Kim’s copy.  When I returned it to her, admitting I had given up halfway through because it was so much NOT my kind of book, she laughed and said, “You’ll notice I didn’t tell you you should read it.  I didn’t think you’d like it.”  Kim knows me well enough to know what to recommend to me–and what not.  For instance, every good friend or relative of mine knows never to tell me to read a book where a child gets bullied or abused in any way, because I won’t sleep for a month, and I’ll blame them.

And I know Kim doesn’t share my love for graphic novels or fantasy, so I wouldn’t go around telling her to read any of my favorites, although I will rush to tell my sister or my oldest son about any new good one, since they love that stuff too.

But I’m reading a book right now that I think anyone who’s into books at all would enjoy.  It’s funny, for one thing–and who among us can’t use a good laugh right around now?  Can’t think of a soul–but even more importantly, it has insights about publishing and book-writing that are so unbelievably on target, it’s basically a primer in how to write and sell books.

The book is How I Became a Famous Novelist by Steve Hely.  (Full disclosure: my husband’s met Hely a few times and they have some mutual friends, which is why he read the book in the first place and passed it on to me.  But I’ve never even met the guy and, sadly, I don’t get any commission or recognition for recommending his book.  Of course, if Steve reads this post and wants to send me a muffin basket, I’ll be all “STEVE!  BUDDY!” so I hope someone sends it on to him and he feels inspired . . .)

Most of this book is laugh out loud funny–when Rob was lying on the bed, reading the book to himself, I got annoyed at how often he’d chortle.  I think that’s rude if no one else can share the joke, don’t you?  (Note: it isn’t rude when I do it.)  Pete, the protagonist, is stuck in a dead-end job, but when his former girlfriend invites him to her wedding, he realizes he needs to become a success before then.  He decides he’ll write a best-selling book and sets about figuring a formula that will work for him. Read the rest of this entry »

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