The first thing I do on Sunday morning besides drink coffee is read the New York Times Book Review. This week I got Stephen King's On Writing from the library and began reading it last night. A real mashup of happy and sad and poigant and pithy. I laughed out loud at his hijinx with the high school newspaper, because it reminded me so much of my younger self.
The book review featured King's new novel, a 1000+ page behemoth that sounded intriguing and readable. (Under the Dome). The Times' also reviewed a new novel by Barbara Kingsolver. (The Lacuna). I discovered Kingsolver when she was writing about Arizona and what a great writer she has become! The Poisonwood Bible was just terrific. So I can't wait to read the new book, much of which takes place in Mexico with Kahlo, Trotsky and Diego Rivera. We saw the movie recently and enjoyed it immensely. They were all larger than life characters.
Just reading the reviews I had a couple ideas for my WIP, In Flight, and even my California book, not yet written. I'm wondering if that is the book I should plow into and not stop until finished, writing in a fine but unburnished passion, permitting myself to write the "shitty first draft."
It was so heartening to see King leave poverty behind with the paperback sale of Carrie. I hope he made another bundle on the movie. And what a loyal wife who is herself a find poet and writer.
Did I mention Kingsolver's non-fiction? Also great.
Hat's off and raise your glass to Stephen King and Barbara Kingsolver. Let fiction reign.
http://www.nytimes.com/pages/books/index.html
Grapeshot
Showing posts with label Sunday New York Times. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday New York Times. Show all posts
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
When Old Money Marries New Media
The Sunday Styles section of the NY Times featured an article about Blogger Melissa C. Morris, a NYC "society wife" who apparently caught the bachelor of the decade a few years ago. Lots of people are asking , "how did she do it?"
I read the article and her blog and the answer would seem to be that not only is she attractive but she's smart and also nice and looks like she might even be lots of fun. The gentleman in question was probably ready to marry and settle down. There's such a thing as being in the right place at the right time.
So . . . sometimes endless speculation has perfectly reasonable answers if anyone takes the trouble to think about it.
The thing is, if you're a computer person and programmed and analyzed and did all that work for a living, you can't ever stop analyzing anything and everything. And thinking about stuff. Like why no one is publishing your ever-so-cool books.
I've noticed a lot of good published authors are having a hell of a time. It's kind of like the movies. Lots of huge blockbusters, and then a few "little" films, like Juno sneak up on everyone. Saw Juno yesterday, compliments of Netflix. O.K., I am not the first one out of the blocks to see big movies, or small movies. Haven't even seen Sex in the City yet.
I have 15 pages and 3500 words on the new book which now has a working title, "In Flight," but nothing to do with airplanes. The character even has a last name, someone from my home town. Not too worried that she'll freak. After all the book has to be finished, polished, find an agent and then a publisher, and be bought and read. How likely is all that? I only have control over the finishing and the polishing. Sounds like jewelry. In a way it is.
I dithered over finding a gangster name that didn't belong to someone I googled. Finally harkened to a name back in fifth grade. Writers remember every bloody thing.
What else is new? While we're on the Times' Style Section: Cool Fendi handbag, cool Ralph Lauren pink blouse. He never loses his touch. The photos of the big HEAT WAVE showed quite a few women wearing black. Don't they know?
The first car ever was black and in Houston. No A.C. I arrived everywhere drenched with sweat. Black is not a good hot weather color. Black and white, that's different. Cool.
$695 Gucci shoes on the front page of Sunday Styles. I would break an ankle. Father's Day already history. Chanel fall clothes showing up. Summer sales. La Di Dah.
I made beef tacos last night. To die for. Tonight will be Kielbasa with sauerkraut and new potatoes. Drop a comment if you want the sauerkraut recipe. Can't just open a can. Sorry.
Made tuna salad out of the remaining tuna from the affaire nicoise. Again, drop a comment for my tuna recipe. A few little tricks. Shabby secrets, that's all.
Ye gods, this turned into a long post.
Grapeshot
Almost forget. Here's the link to the socialite blog. Cute graphics. Cute dog.
http://melissacmorris.blogspot.com/
I read the article and her blog and the answer would seem to be that not only is she attractive but she's smart and also nice and looks like she might even be lots of fun. The gentleman in question was probably ready to marry and settle down. There's such a thing as being in the right place at the right time.
So . . . sometimes endless speculation has perfectly reasonable answers if anyone takes the trouble to think about it.
The thing is, if you're a computer person and programmed and analyzed and did all that work for a living, you can't ever stop analyzing anything and everything. And thinking about stuff. Like why no one is publishing your ever-so-cool books.
I've noticed a lot of good published authors are having a hell of a time. It's kind of like the movies. Lots of huge blockbusters, and then a few "little" films, like Juno sneak up on everyone. Saw Juno yesterday, compliments of Netflix. O.K., I am not the first one out of the blocks to see big movies, or small movies. Haven't even seen Sex in the City yet.
I have 15 pages and 3500 words on the new book which now has a working title, "In Flight," but nothing to do with airplanes. The character even has a last name, someone from my home town. Not too worried that she'll freak. After all the book has to be finished, polished, find an agent and then a publisher, and be bought and read. How likely is all that? I only have control over the finishing and the polishing. Sounds like jewelry. In a way it is.
I dithered over finding a gangster name that didn't belong to someone I googled. Finally harkened to a name back in fifth grade. Writers remember every bloody thing.
What else is new? While we're on the Times' Style Section: Cool Fendi handbag, cool Ralph Lauren pink blouse. He never loses his touch. The photos of the big HEAT WAVE showed quite a few women wearing black. Don't they know?
The first car ever was black and in Houston. No A.C. I arrived everywhere drenched with sweat. Black is not a good hot weather color. Black and white, that's different. Cool.
$695 Gucci shoes on the front page of Sunday Styles. I would break an ankle. Father's Day already history. Chanel fall clothes showing up. Summer sales. La Di Dah.
I made beef tacos last night. To die for. Tonight will be Kielbasa with sauerkraut and new potatoes. Drop a comment if you want the sauerkraut recipe. Can't just open a can. Sorry.
Made tuna salad out of the remaining tuna from the affaire nicoise. Again, drop a comment for my tuna recipe. A few little tricks. Shabby secrets, that's all.
Ye gods, this turned into a long post.
Grapeshot
Almost forget. Here's the link to the socialite blog. Cute graphics. Cute dog.
http://melissacmorris.blogspot.com/
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Happiness and Charles Simic
“For starters, learn how to cook.” That’s the advice that poet laureate Charles Simic offered in last week’s Sunday New York Times Magazine (2/3/08) to those who are looking to be happy.
Being happy is a condition that is on many of writer’s minds. Maybe on the GP (General Public’s) mind, too. Today the Times “Style” section about “Modern Love” mused about the notion that only the very young (twenties) and the very old (seventy-plus) are happy, and that middle age is a time of unhappiness. That may be truer today when most people postpone having children and reach middle age with kids at home and aging parents and stale careers and big mortgages and all those worries. Marriage, if you can make it past twenty years, actually improves when the kids leave home. You can be a couple again. If you stayed married and are still speaking. Whatever.
What intrigued me was Simic’s statement that happy people cook. Or maybe are married to a cook. I have to confess that cooking makes me happy. Never thought of it before. Is it nurturing and nourishing others? Dunno. Cooking a lamb chop and some fresh asparagus for moi also makes me happy. Does eating decent food at home make us happy? The ancient idea of gathering around the warm hearth? Something to that effect.
My friend (who does not seem a terribly happy person) and I used to assume cooking duties every summer at an Easthampton house party. The non-cooks were always amazed that we were happy (sic) in the kitchen so many hours a day. We were very happy, almost delerious. Everyone, (almost) contributed. S.O. made his specialty drink, the host whipped up a key lime pie, others chipped in. And we were happy. The hostess was almost never happy and she didn’t cook. Strange, isn’t it. And the broth was never spoiled. Idyllic summer days, now gone.
My grandma sang old hymns in the kitchen while she cooked and did the dishes. She was, I think, happy.
This morning we had the Schaller and Weber bacon and eggs with cherry tomatoes, shallots, mushrooms and chives. Good bread and good jam. And I was happy.
Cooking is a creative act, with manual effort. It engages our mind, our imagination and our hands. Perhaps that makes us happy. “For starters, learn how to cook.”
My protagonist, Emma Lee Spence, likes to cook. Even at Burning Man when she has to deal with picky eaters and primitive facilities, she’s a happy cook. Instinctively.
Treat the cook well. There is an old saying, “she was a good cook, as cooks go, and as cooks go, she went.”
Food for thought.
Being happy is a condition that is on many of writer’s minds. Maybe on the GP (General Public’s) mind, too. Today the Times “Style” section about “Modern Love” mused about the notion that only the very young (twenties) and the very old (seventy-plus) are happy, and that middle age is a time of unhappiness. That may be truer today when most people postpone having children and reach middle age with kids at home and aging parents and stale careers and big mortgages and all those worries. Marriage, if you can make it past twenty years, actually improves when the kids leave home. You can be a couple again. If you stayed married and are still speaking. Whatever.
What intrigued me was Simic’s statement that happy people cook. Or maybe are married to a cook. I have to confess that cooking makes me happy. Never thought of it before. Is it nurturing and nourishing others? Dunno. Cooking a lamb chop and some fresh asparagus for moi also makes me happy. Does eating decent food at home make us happy? The ancient idea of gathering around the warm hearth? Something to that effect.
My friend (who does not seem a terribly happy person) and I used to assume cooking duties every summer at an Easthampton house party. The non-cooks were always amazed that we were happy (sic) in the kitchen so many hours a day. We were very happy, almost delerious. Everyone, (almost) contributed. S.O. made his specialty drink, the host whipped up a key lime pie, others chipped in. And we were happy. The hostess was almost never happy and she didn’t cook. Strange, isn’t it. And the broth was never spoiled. Idyllic summer days, now gone.
My grandma sang old hymns in the kitchen while she cooked and did the dishes. She was, I think, happy.
This morning we had the Schaller and Weber bacon and eggs with cherry tomatoes, shallots, mushrooms and chives. Good bread and good jam. And I was happy.
Cooking is a creative act, with manual effort. It engages our mind, our imagination and our hands. Perhaps that makes us happy. “For starters, learn how to cook.”
My protagonist, Emma Lee Spence, likes to cook. Even at Burning Man when she has to deal with picky eaters and primitive facilities, she’s a happy cook. Instinctively.
Treat the cook well. There is an old saying, “she was a good cook, as cooks go, and as cooks go, she went.”
Food for thought.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Snarky Reviews: Sunday New York Times
Zowie! With a couple exceptions the book reviews in today's (1/27/08) New York Times are downers. Drew Gilpin Fault's This Republic of Suffering:Death and the American Civil War gets a rave from Geoffrey Ward,. Don't know if I'm up for 346 pages of Death and Suffering.
All Shall Be well; And All Shall Be Well; And All Manner of Things Shall Be Well by Tod Wodicka, which got a rave in another publication was slammed. Sounds like an interesting book.
A Golden Age by Tahmima Anan, a novel about the birth of Bngladesh gets off to a "muddy start," but redeems itself. Another tempting book.
Riding Toward Everywhere by William T. Vollmann was panned by J.R. Moehringer. This, too, is a book I look forward to reading because some of my relatives went "on the bum" during the Great Depression and rode the rails. One of them later became an entrepreneur and made a lot of money, lived an interesting life in a tiny Kansas town and became a world traveller, even learned Spanish late in life.
Ezra Pound: Poet, receives an even review from Charles McGrath. Of course Pound's life is so odd and interesting and controversial that reviewers (not this one) always tend to review the man and not his biographer's work.
Ellington Boulevard by Adam Langer, not just a novel but a New York novel, is again, more of a mixed review but basically positive. I've been visiting New York since I was a young bride (is there ever an "old bride"?) but have never felt there was a novel in these visits, or even a short story. Wonder why. No drama, no conflict? Note to self: dig deeper, you fool.
I don't read horror, so I skipped the review of20th Century Ghosts. Also skipped the review of Patrick Buchanan's book, since I figured I wouldn't read it either.
Still to read; The Cure Within, another book I wouldn't be inclined to read but the review might be interesting. Ditto, Alfred Kazin, a Biography.
Pat Barker's new novel, Life Class, got a basically panning review. She was put down for not writing a novel like her other novels. What's a writer to do? This was apparently too romantic. I was particularly interested because the book is about painters and World War I, and I am getting into a novel about (among other things) a painter and some research let to an idea for yet another novel.
News on the Trade Fiction vs. Mass-Market Fiction lists. Atonement is #1 in Trade and #5 in Mass-Market. The movie and then the Academy Award nominations have really helped this book. Hooray for tie-ins. Must gladden Ewan McEwan's heart and portmonnaie.
Pillars of Earth is #3 in Trade and #15 in Mass-Market, a surprising, to me, reversal. I Am Legend is #10 in TB and # 7 in MM. (I just hit a forbidden key and lost this post, BUT, due to total paranoia I had already submitted it a couple times. Ha ha. Blogger!)
A note about the hard-cover list: Janet Evanovich zoomed to the top with Plum Lucky. I love Stephanie Plum and that series. Both Evanovich and Sue Grafton, #8 with T is for Tresspass,
are excellent writers and storytellers and deserve all the success they have achieved. Both are dead serious about their writing and craft. Sisters in Crime!
Happy reading. Stay tuned for another food post. Hey, eating and reading some of the best parts of the day, n'est pas?
Grapeshot
All Shall Be well; And All Shall Be Well; And All Manner of Things Shall Be Well by Tod Wodicka, which got a rave in another publication was slammed. Sounds like an interesting book.
A Golden Age by Tahmima Anan, a novel about the birth of Bngladesh gets off to a "muddy start," but redeems itself. Another tempting book.
Riding Toward Everywhere by William T. Vollmann was panned by J.R. Moehringer. This, too, is a book I look forward to reading because some of my relatives went "on the bum" during the Great Depression and rode the rails. One of them later became an entrepreneur and made a lot of money, lived an interesting life in a tiny Kansas town and became a world traveller, even learned Spanish late in life.
Ezra Pound: Poet, receives an even review from Charles McGrath. Of course Pound's life is so odd and interesting and controversial that reviewers (not this one) always tend to review the man and not his biographer's work.
Ellington Boulevard by Adam Langer, not just a novel but a New York novel, is again, more of a mixed review but basically positive. I've been visiting New York since I was a young bride (is there ever an "old bride"?) but have never felt there was a novel in these visits, or even a short story. Wonder why. No drama, no conflict? Note to self: dig deeper, you fool.
I don't read horror, so I skipped the review of20th Century Ghosts. Also skipped the review of Patrick Buchanan's book, since I figured I wouldn't read it either.
Still to read; The Cure Within, another book I wouldn't be inclined to read but the review might be interesting. Ditto, Alfred Kazin, a Biography.
Pat Barker's new novel, Life Class, got a basically panning review. She was put down for not writing a novel like her other novels. What's a writer to do? This was apparently too romantic. I was particularly interested because the book is about painters and World War I, and I am getting into a novel about (among other things) a painter and some research let to an idea for yet another novel.
News on the Trade Fiction vs. Mass-Market Fiction lists. Atonement is #1 in Trade and #5 in Mass-Market. The movie and then the Academy Award nominations have really helped this book. Hooray for tie-ins. Must gladden Ewan McEwan's heart and portmonnaie.
Pillars of Earth is #3 in Trade and #15 in Mass-Market, a surprising, to me, reversal. I Am Legend is #10 in TB and # 7 in MM. (I just hit a forbidden key and lost this post, BUT, due to total paranoia I had already submitted it a couple times. Ha ha. Blogger!)
A note about the hard-cover list: Janet Evanovich zoomed to the top with Plum Lucky. I love Stephanie Plum and that series. Both Evanovich and Sue Grafton, #8 with T is for Tresspass,
are excellent writers and storytellers and deserve all the success they have achieved. Both are dead serious about their writing and craft. Sisters in Crime!
Happy reading. Stay tuned for another food post. Hey, eating and reading some of the best parts of the day, n'est pas?
Grapeshot
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Living Well, and All That
Living Well IS the best revenge, although who or what one is taking revenge on (life?) has always been rather a mystery. Last night we grilled strip steaks (with plenty of mesquite wood on the fire), ate the rest of the ratatouille and green beans Italian style, which are green beans, cooked al dente, then sauteed in a mixture of butter and olive oil, garlic, parsley and garnished with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese and more parsley, seasoned with salt, pepper and a bit of nutmeg. They were good, I tell you.
Tonight the very absolute end of the ratatouille, insalata caprese with fresh garden tomatoes and home grown organic basil, grilled ham and cheese on English muffins, with one of my special tarts (see previous post) made of nectarines and dried cherries.
I've incorporated my friend's edits into Promiscuous Mode. Printed out the 4th draft of Festival Madness. Queried a small press about World of Mirrors and noticed they weren't on the MWA approved list. I'm writing a speech about my big class reunion. Looks like there will be time to start something new this week. Maybe the German book. We have character's names now, and the starting situation.
Martin Scorsese nailed it today in the New York Times when he wrote of Antonioni. All the words I wanted to say, and more. Zowie!
Best seller list maybe worse than usual in terms of literary merit. Whatcha gonna do? Guy sitting next to S.O. on plane from Denver drank 3 quick drinks and read Harry Potter. Didn't know what to make of that. Nervous flyer? Drunk? Bad day? All of the above? Isn't life interesting?
Grapeshot
Tonight the very absolute end of the ratatouille, insalata caprese with fresh garden tomatoes and home grown organic basil, grilled ham and cheese on English muffins, with one of my special tarts (see previous post) made of nectarines and dried cherries.
I've incorporated my friend's edits into Promiscuous Mode. Printed out the 4th draft of Festival Madness. Queried a small press about World of Mirrors and noticed they weren't on the MWA approved list. I'm writing a speech about my big class reunion. Looks like there will be time to start something new this week. Maybe the German book. We have character's names now, and the starting situation.
Martin Scorsese nailed it today in the New York Times when he wrote of Antonioni. All the words I wanted to say, and more. Zowie!
Best seller list maybe worse than usual in terms of literary merit. Whatcha gonna do? Guy sitting next to S.O. on plane from Denver drank 3 quick drinks and read Harry Potter. Didn't know what to make of that. Nervous flyer? Drunk? Bad day? All of the above? Isn't life interesting?
Grapeshot
Sunday, July 08, 2007
The Porthole View
Gone are the days of tiny portholes. Now cruiseships have picture windows or even balconies. I noticed lots of balconies, very few populated. They are like decks. Most people never use them.
Anyway, we had a sea window, good for taking in the view while changing clothes, waking up, and so forth. It also revealed how little darkness there was in this part of the world so close to the solstice. The shot you see was taken Day One, when we were cruising north out of Vancouver. The scenery gradually segued into totally spectacular, but it was good to have it happen gradually. This day we saw lots of big fish jumping. Don't know what they were. I got my fill of salmon, cod and halibut, all delicious. The salmon were beginning to swim upstream and we saw one river just loaded with them.
Many of the rivers are fishless, due to the glacial melt and all the sediment and lack of oxygen in the water. Lots of silt, little wildlife. Some of the glaciers are really filthy, and others have beautiful blue ice. We saw some calving, and the thunder was stupendous, and it made a satisfying splash as well. One never grows too old for a really big splash.
Glaciers are abundant, and we had a map showing how they had shrunk in the last 100 years. The decline hasn't all been recent.
Not cooking (but eating) for two weeks has me all inspired. Last night I cooked a chicken breast in wine with an anise bulb and lots of lemon. Flavor was subtle, not licorishy. We also tried broccoli with garlic and toasted Panko crumbs, another winner. Cucumber salad with tomatoes and herbs from the garden. Lots of good veggies and lean meat.
Tonight is shrimp on the grill with grilled eggplant, zucchini, portabellas and red peppers. Yum! I'm making a diet rice pudding. Weight is starting to come off. I measure out the damn granola in the morning. Never seems like enough.
Worked on the ending of Festival Madness, and now it seems kind of tepid, so I have more work to do. Endless revisions--what else is new?
I am reading a Donna Leon book, my first. Nothing happened until mid-story. Lots of running around Venice and drinking of coffee and grappa. I like it all right, but am not sure what the big deal about her is. A perfectly nice little mystery in a Venetian setting.
Did I mention the agent told publishers are only buying "cozy-cozies" and thrillers from "new" writers. My next book is "Twenty-Five Years in Informations Systems," in which I tell tales out of school. Non-fiction. Then it's 1928 California, but not in the crime fiction genre. After that, well, we see.
After a rocky start, I am really savoring The Warlord's Son, and read little bits of it so I don't finish too early. Great stuff about Pakistan and Afghanistan. Sounds so authentic. I have to get back to Proust sometime this summer.
In the meantime, The Sunday New York Times and the Boston Globe await. A full day's work, at least.
Cats were estatic to see us. Annie escaped the house yesterday and ran all over the neighborhood for 5 hours. Bad cat. The garden is spectacular. Photos anon. I have everything weeded. My $2.50 miniature rose from the supermarket this winter now has 5 blooms. The geraniums I carried over the winter have fat, colorful flowers. Sometimes frugality pays off.
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