Blog Bet

My dear friend Petya, who runs the stunning "The Migrant Book Club," recently posed a bet to me, inspired by the Nanowrimo contest: Starting November 1, we must blog each blog once a day for a full month. The loser, that is the one who ends up with the least posts at the end of the month, owes the winner a nice bottle of red. The winner not only gets the satisfaction of the win, but pushes their blogging talent into the stratosphere. I was excited about the challenge, and ready to get this little blog off the ground and make it something worthwhile. Reading is one of my great passions, and to be able to connect with others about the books I love and why I love them is true bliss to me. On November 1st, after publishing my first entry in the contest, I knew was going to beat her (much more) successful blog, not only in amount of posts, but in sheer awesomeness. This was going to be my chance to make it real. And then came November 2nd, and November 3rd, and a double at school and the restaurant; and then came the promises to myself that I would make up the missed entries with daily double posts that would showcase not only my talent, but my brilliance and follow through. Needless to say, I have not done that. Petya, dear reader, I give you the crown, and you can expect your bottle after Thanksgiving. I don't think I have a daily entry in me. (Hold the jokes please.) I was starting to think about blogging about any old thing that came to my mind, and really, who wants to read about my dogs? But what I do have is something a little less intense. I am going to make it my goal, starting with this entry and lasting until Jan. 1, to post twice a week. I will try to make them meaningful, substantial, and give it my best. Hold me to my word. Tell a friend if you like what I have. Join me on Jan. 9 to chat about "The Marriage Plot." And let me know what you are reading.

Let's Talk "The Marriage Plot": Jan. 9, 7pm

So, "The Art of Fielding" chat has come and gone, and for a first attempt, it was enough fun that I want to try it again. (I must admit that I had dental surgery earlier that day and was not at my best; the irony that I equate my lack of typing my thoughts that night to my mouth being in pain is not lost on this English teacher.) This time, let's chat about Jeffery Eugenides' latest, "The Marriage Plot." I'm giving you until January 9 to get the novel read, which should be more than enough time to devour the novel. If the first 20 pages are any indication, it should a be great discussion. Last night, sitting among close friends over a glass (or six) of wine, I actually wished for a brief second I was at home, curled up in bed reading it. So, dust off your English Lit. notes, brush up on your favorite Semiotician, and be here at 7pm. I promise not to visit the dentist before we get started!

The Art of Fielding Live Chat

On Deck

At any given time, I am usually reading one book with three or more sitting on my shelf waiting to be read next. Trying to tidy up the house yesterday, I realized I have more than just a few books lying around that I have not read. In fact, the amount of books I have purchased lately but have not read is slightly overwhelming. In no particular order, here is what I have to choose from next:

Rin Tin Tin, Susan Orlean

1Q84, Haruki Murakami

The Marriage Plot, Jeffery Eugenides

Believing is Seeing, Errol Morris

Zone One, Colson Whitehead

The Family Fang, Kevin Wilson

C, Tom McCarthy

The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe

Elia Kazan, Richard Schickel

The Steal, Rachel Shteir

The Wild Things, Dave Eggers

I will probably go with the Eugenides next, then Murakami. Until I finish at least 3 of these, I am not allowing myself anymore purchases.

(Don't believe the above statement!)

The Warmth of Other Suns

As a reader, we crave those moments when, after losing ourselves in the first frantic pages of a book or novel, we know, just know, that the book we are reading was made just for us, that there is no other purpose in our lives but to read this book, and everything, family, jobs, responsibilities, eating, will have to wait. To be so completely engulfed in a book, to lose oneself, as they say, in a work so meaningful and profound and magical is the ultimate goal of any reader. Once you experience that high, find that grace, become so completely dependent on a book that you have the need to carry it with you everywhere you go just to feel its presence with you in case there is the off chance you can slip back into its pages, even for a few minutes, you cannot go back to casual reading. And every book you read after that perfect work is compared to that one time, no matter its subject matter or style. Great books can seem callow and weak when followed by ones you loved. You almost go into mourning when a book so dear to you comes to a close, but you don’t stop reading just because you think you might have reached a pinnacle. You keep reading, hoping to feel that high again, all the while telling everyone you know exactly what they MUST BE READING, and hoping, hoping, hoping something as great will come along soon.

I can be honest in saying that this happens to me once every two or three years. It happened with White Teeth, The Corrections, and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay; I experienced it several years ago with Let the Great World Spin, and on a glorious full-day devouring of The Road. Last year I got there twice with Egan and Franzen, a super double triumph that left me thinking it would be several more years before I could feel it again. And while there have been some brief affairs recently, such as Lark and Termite, The Submission, and Super Sad True Love Story, nothing has given me that true passion you can only experience with a great book.

I started this blog because of that passion, the desire to share with everyone I know (and those I don’t know) what books sweep me away, what books make me crazy with excitement as a reader. I am slightly hesitant to say this because I am only 100 pages into this one, but I want to do nothing more with my day but read Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns. This lyrical piece of narrative non-fiction is as fine as anything I have ever read. Wilkerson’s work is about what she calls “The Great Migration,” the exodus of millions of African Americans from the South following the Civil War, and corresponding with the start of Jim Crow. Wilkerson follows three former southerners as they leave all they know to find a better life. It is gorgeous, heartbreaking, and one that I don’t want to leave, even for a minute. Calling it extraordinary is not hyperbole. Wilkerson, a Pulitzer Prize winner in journalism, writes with such precision and lyrical beauty that one could mistake The Warmth of Other Suns for a work of fiction. Topics such as Jim Crow and share-cropping, which have been thoroughly explored in other texts and history classes, seem revelatory in Wilkerson’s hands. Wilkerson is especially skilled at painting the true horror of what she calls “the Southern caste system,” which keeps whites in charge and African Americans constantly scrambling to understand the rules they are not only forced to live by, but could cost them their lives for single misunderstanding. She illuminates so much of our shared history to such a degree that one could easily begin to question their education and knowledge of the world. The work is painful to read, but never maudlin. Reading The Warmth of Other Suns is like experiencing a strange new country, one with a people and history that is desperate to reveal itself for all to see, and one we need to know. I can think of no greater exhortation of this work other than to plead, “Read this now!”

Nanowrimo

It is National Novel Writing Month, according to this site anyway. The goal is simple: Use the month of November to write that great novel you have been contemplating all your life, but just haven't found the time to complete. Write everyday, get at least 50,000 words, and you will win the prize, the prize being included on the wall of the site, and a rough draft on your hard drive. It sounds so simple, so easy. It seems anyone can do it! Hell, for 2o minutes today I contemplated giving it a shot. Several years ago, in a fit of creative gusto, I started my masterpiece, pounding away page after page, hoping to get something that could stick. It was a great time, and for a while, it felt I was going to finish. I actually got about 120 pages down, diligently working to what I thought was going to be a grand masterpiece. And then I stopped. Why did I go to all the trouble and abandon something I was so passionate about? The answer was simple: the work sucked. It was cliche ridden, sentimental, and poorly executed. I knew nothing about fiction writing except how to read and enjoy it. My vocabulary was limited. My phrasing was embarrassing at best. But most importantly, I didn't have the patience to actually draw my characters in a way that was anyway believable. I jumped over the details to get to the big stuff, and then flew through the big stuff to move onto the next chapter. Writing is a craft that takes time, skill, and an acute attention to the details that make a life interesting. It can't all be plot and drama. The small moments are more telling than the pivotal ones, and thankfully I realized it was not for me. (I eventually realized that if I have anything in me, it is a screenplay.) So I wonder, here at the beginning of November, if it is truly worthwhile to race the days to produce something called a novel? Can this actually be done, and if so, can it really be readable? Because that is the final goal, something people actually want to sit down and enjoy. I would think a better choice would be a novel in a year. That seems to me to be an accomplishment: completing something that isn't over before the next payday, but one that truly tests your skills and fortitude. I have heard many writers say they don't trust authors who publish a new work each year, and, having read endless amounts of Stephen King as a teen, I think I agree. But perhaps Nanowrimo will get someone who might never have given it a try that inspiration to create a masterpiece. I applaud the idea, if not the product.

The Art of Fielding Discussion Next Week

Next Monday, November 7 at 7pm (Central Time), I be hosting a live chat on Chad Harbach's debut novel The Art of Fielding here on this blog. If you have not read the novel, there is still time; although it is a 500-pager, it reads quickly. So get to reading and join me next week!