Just What the World Needs - Another Self-Published Book

A book of personal essays, yet. Insert eye-roll here.

Obviously, this is an obligatory post of self-promotion.

So, have you read my new book yet?

Speaking of personal essays...

17 That Just Might Change Your Life

Tips from Writer's Digest about crafting reader-friendly personal essays  and

Places to publish them! 

Do You Know WHAT You're Reading?

The lines are blurrier and blurrier, my reading friends. See this article about two new "independent" magazines on books and authors: Defending the Porous Wall, from January Magazine.

A Moveable Feast -> The Paris Wife

I've tried to like Ernest Hemingway's writing at least once per decade for the last three. I'm 0-3 now, but at least this time I feel a sense of accomplishment.

I read A Moveable Feast to provide a backdrop for the highly recommended A Paris Wife; now I'm looking forward to hearing what Hadley might have had to say, according to Paula McLain. When she wrote A Paris Wife, McLain (who lives in Cleveland) re-imagined the Hemingways' 1920s-era summer in Paris. For what it's worth, McLain was honest enough to label her account "fiction."

Hemingway was coy about just what and how much of A Moveable Feast was real and how much imagined, but he put a nice spin on it:

For reasons sufficient to the writer, many places, people, observations and impressions have been left out of this book. Some were secrets and some were known by everyone... . ... If the reader prefers, this book may be regarded as fiction. But there is always the chance that such a book of fiction may throw some light on what has been written as fact. 

 ----- from the preface of A Moveable Feast

Ernest Hemingway (c) 1964

Unfortunately, the preface was my favorite part of this work of probably-mostly- nonfiction. I'm hoping I enjoy what McLain's 'feast' offers... 

Have you read The Paris Wife and/or A Moveable Feast? If so, please dish! (Groan)

History in a Hurry

Gimme Rewrite Sweetheart and Front Page Girl are good old-fashioned books, meaning you can't judge 'em by their covers.

Doris O'Donnell and Don Bean have lived - and written - enough history to fully appreciate the current state of journalism, and both are honest enough to admit they can't predict the future of the game. When O'Donnell and Bean started writing for Cleveland newspapers, that's what it was called: the newspaper game.

There were three - count 'em, three - daily newspapers in Cleveland when Bean and O'Donnell got started in the game. The players weren't perfect and the papers weren't unbiased, but they had plenty of watchdogs on staff. As Bean ruefully points out, in his reporting era  reporters would measure the depth of the concrete on the street. And if it wasn't what the taxpayers had coming to them, well, somebody would print it.

In her book, O'Donnell describes discrimination in the business, certainly, but she also describes a business with a lot of principles. Regardless of sex, reporters were supposed to consider themselves representatives of the community. While female reporters were expected to wear white gloves and hats and to say "Yes ma'am" and "No sir," they were also tough enough to measure the concrete on the street and find out just what was buried in Sam Sheppard's backyard. (That's a teaser. Read the book.) They were also given an unbelievably long time to get a story. It's unbelievable today, anyway.

Bean and O'Donnell both spoke at today's meeting of Ohio Professional Writers, attended by about a dozen current college students (journalism majors) and many more with hair long gone gray, fellow journalists who were getting their first beats about the time O'Donnell and Bean were retiring.

O'Donnell likes to say journalism is history in a hurry. And while it's hurrying faster than ever before, it's not dead yet. We can hope that among today's budding journalists are some visionaries who see the value in the old, and a way to make it new again.

The plea from this graying writer: HURRY.

Speaking of...

I slipped out of the house yesterday morning to hear Chuck Sambuchino of F+W Media talk about his experience in the publishing world (and his latest Guide to Literary Agents) and he mentioned that writers who are having a hard time breaking in to picture books (those 32-page kids books, more pictures than words) may instead break into YA or MG market, then say to their established agent/publisher, "hey, I have some picture books titles ready to go..."

It made me wonder if that's what Speak author Laurie Halse Anderson did with The Hair of Zoe Fleefenbacher Goes to School, which I recently reviewed for The Plain Dealer. I rather doubt it, but maybe...

You can see all five of my reviews of back-to-school picture books in today's print edition/arts section, or check it out on the website.

Mighty Nice, Those Queens of Freeville

The Mighty Queens of Freeville by Amy Dickinson
Hyperion (c) 2009 225 pages

The Mighty Queens of Freeville is a touching book about a single mom raising a single daughter, with help from her matron-laden family, which apparently accounts for about a third of the gene pool in tiny Freeville, NY.

The "Ask Amy" syndicated advice columnist and NPR contributor skates on trite territory; we've read about mother-daughter relationships, the preschool to pre-college days, many times.

Dickinson's Queens succeeds because it's a good balance of self-effacing irreverence and raw self-reporting. The book also succeeds because it speaks to all mothers (of daughters) rather than specifically to single mothers.

I don't think mothers of boys will relate, however, and certainly, Queens speaks most directly to mothers who have roots in a small town or two. (City chicks may not appreciate the significance of Toads diner, the church barbecue pit, or having encyclopedic knowledge of one's neighbors.)

While I enjoyed Dickinson's light humor and ability to avoid convenient cliches, what I most appreciate is that she steered clear of any man-hating digressions. One can be wronged by a man without blaming the whole gender, but far too many authors bang on the all-girl-band drum.

The Mighty Queens of Freeville is a welcome addition to the shelves full of book-length personal essays on parenting. It could, I think, also serve as something as a liaison between the various factions still (!) fighting the Mommy Wars, by not only illustrating how moms can work together, but how they can work and raise children, which is also work.

Early on, Dickinson explains that divorce "runs through my clan like an aggressive chromosone," but claims she was never exposed to "family ugliness of any sort." [p14] From that perspective, Queens offers some insight into the lives of little girls who grow up knowing little of their fathers. How mom handles dad's absentee status is paramount, of course, and Dickinson provides a rather good example of how to handle life without dad without excessive angst, and how to (possibly) avoid the need for counseling in later life.

My father had limited interest in his children, so there was no question of custody. My mother never pursued him for any sort of financial support - and he didn't offer it. She simply prevailed. Prevailing is underrated. People have the idea that unless they win, they lose. But sometimes surviving is enough. My mother knew this, and I learned it by watching her. [p15]

As an adult, Dickinson acknowledges she maintains a romantic vision of her father, and yet she is clear-eyed about his shortcomings.

My father doesn't see things as metaphors for other things, but I do. As I drove back home to Freeville, I tried not to think about the jobs, the wives, the children he left and the grandchildren he would never know, but about the bees and the honey they make. The honey stands for the sweetness of life, while the bee brings the sting. My father, the self-aggrandizing bear killer, was both the bee and the honey to me. [p195]

Evolution of a Great YA

Yeah, I said I was done with YA for a while...but Evolution, Me & Other Freaks of Nature is the kind of book that changes minds.

It's absolutely one of the best YAs I've read in years; right up there with Rules, but longer, with a much more involved plot.

The premise of the story is interesting enough: After the youth group of a very conservative (read: over-the-top) church torments a boy to the point he attempts suicide, one remorseful teen (Mena Reece) writes letter of apology to the boy, which naturally becomes the basis of his parents' lawsuit against the church. The book follows Mena through a year of hell as a high school freshmen ostracized by her church, tormented by said youth group (and former friends) while she deals with more mundane high school stuff - including a wildly interesting biology teacher, having a crush on her lab partner, and questioning everything her parents ever taught her.

But what's really cool about Evolution... is that Brande doesn't explain how things unfold - she just lets them unfold. The author is so stingy with backstory, in fact, basic info about the lawsuit isn't revealed until halfway through the book. For the first 100 pages, all we get to go on is this, from the book's second paragraph:

When you're single-handedly responsible for getting your church, your pastor, and every one of your former friends and their parents sued for millions of dollars, you expect to make some enemies. Fine.

For an author to withhold further details/explanation not only shows serious restraint, it's also brilliant. Brilliant because Brande packs those first 100 pages with enough action/progress/subplots to keep us reading, even if Mena wasn't in the middle of a civil lawsuit.

Evolution has so many positive features, I'm struggling to list them all, let alone in an organized fashion.

It reminded me how exciting high school was. Seriously. Remember how a really great teacher could present a really big concept (like democracy, or evolution) and really blow your mind?

Brande's book was realistic, but realistic with a dash of humor and imagination. For example, the motto at New Advantage High School is, "Let brilliance find you." I laughed out loud. Then I sighed even louder when she described second period: yoga. Ahhhh. I might be willing to go back to high school if I could get credit for yoga class! That's brilliant.

Of course, I haven't yet stated the obvious: Evolution takes on a great philosophical/scientific/religious debate with a realistic, energetic tone that never, ever sounds contrived.

Bravo, Robin Brande. Please, keep writing.
-- -- -- --
(Unlike Brande, I can't resist a little backstory. Evolution... is Brande's first novel, and according to her website, "she is or has been ...[a] lawyer, yoga instructor, entrepreneur, community college instructor, Wilderness First Responder, insurance agent, outdoor adventurer, Girl Scout leader, and Sunday school teacher." Obviously, I'm a total slacker, so I'll stop here.)

Their Problems are Real

Moustafa Bayoumi has written a WYSIWYG.*

How Does It Feel To Be A Problem? Being Young and Arab in America, efficiently describes some of the problems faced by seven teens and young adults living in New York in the aftermath of the 9/11/01 terrorist attacks on US soil.

All US citizens, gainfully employed, good students, and in most cases both, Rasha, Sami, Yasmin, Akram, Lina, Omar, and Rami are presented as being 'normal' Arab-American citizens. And for all I know, they are. In my admittedly white-bread world, I'm very unaware of what life is like behind a dark complexion and the Quaran. That's exactly why I wanted to read it.

I stumbled at first. The writing is a bit clunky here, the grammar out of sync there. I wanted the prose to sing! Succinctly! Alas, Bayoumi isn't Barbara Kingsolver. (Sigh. No one is.) But the writing really didn't get in the way of the story - er, stories.

How Does It Feel... is seven truly separate stories; although the characters share some common ground, it's surprisingly little. Bayoumi's choice of subjects and his ability to paint a very rich and deep, living, breathing portrait of each in a relatively few pages (less than 40 pages each) is the basis for the book's success.

These are far more than snapshots or shotgun introductions, denser than slice of life vignettes, and at the same time, the sections left me both satisfied that I "knew" the subject and still I wanted to know each one better.

I felt that each one is owed a sincere apology from someone - something - in our country. ("The Government" is the easy whipping boy; it's also a perfectly absurd target.) I'm also pretty darned sure none of Bayoumi's subjects will bear significant scars or remain "down" because of the pressures and prejudices applied to these Arab Americans.

From Rasha, the high school student who was jailed along with her family in May 2002, to Sami, who was traveling with a busload of other young Marines when he heard about the attacks on the World Trade Center, the folks we meet in How Does It Feel To Be A Problem are strong, smart, serious, young people I'm extremely proud to call Americans.

Perhaps only this author, who was born in Switzerland, raised in Canada, and currently lives in New York, could have enough detachment and the necessary understanding to write this book this way.

To Bayoumi's great credit, the book is not a condemnation of the United States, its government, or any of its white bread citizens. (Whew.) Nor is it a look through rose-colored glasses. It is what it is: "a wholly revealing portrait of a community that lives next door and yet a world away."

Bayoumi writes in the book's forward that he "developed a great deal of optimism through its writing." Reading it, I believe my emotions were equal parts fascination (I am more ignorant than I thought!) exasperation (THIS is America?!) depression (that's terrible!) and wonder (human beings are truly amazing).

So while the book left me with no overriding emotion, it certainly left me changed. I believe my mind has been pried open a bit...and I hope it will remain that way.

I'm certain, at least, that I can forgive the occasional clunky sentence.


= = = = = = = = = = = = = =HIGHLY RECOMMENDED= = = = = = =

Find out more on Facebook.

Buy the book from Amazon ($14.97 as of this post).


*My all-time favorite acronym: What You See Is What You Get.

A Mango-Shaped Space & More Sustenance

Wendy Mass's first novel, A Mango-Shaped Space, scored on many counts.

First of all, it got published, by Little Brown & Co. It boasts cover blurbs from Judy Blume, Paula Danzinger, and Meg Cabot. AND it earned a Schneider Family Book Award, for "honoring artistic expression of the disability experience." That's a heck of a debut!

Grading based on the YAs I've read in the past two years, I give it a B+. The story was solid, but not stellar; the writing the same. Character development is where Mass shines.

She creates a near-tangible relationship between main character Mia and her dearly-departed grandpa, for one thing, and then proceeds to build a brilliant connection between Mia, her pet cat (Mango), and Mia's entire family.

Initially I though Mass's development of Mia's parents was a little clunky. She included a lot of just plain description up front, while I prefer to learn about characters through their actions and interactions with other characters.

Later in the book, though, I realized the descriptions helped give the reader a base of believability which is necessary when mom and dad play a larger, and important, role in the story. Had Mass not laid the groundwork earlier, those actions would have seemed like convenient but rather out-of-nowhere responses.

I can't say much more without giving away the nut of the story, and I don't want to do that; it's worth a read.

The book highlights a very rare condition - not fatal, not really even harmful - called synesthesia. Folks with synesthesia see colors (literally) associated with numbers, letters, words, foods, or any or all of those things. Of course, the first book-form treatment of a condition like that is likely to garner the attention of agents and publishers, as well as get you short-listed for some specialized book awards, so Mass deserves kudos for getting to the synesthesia space first.

I would have preferred a lot more medical info about the condition, but I keep in mind it's a YA. Which brings me to...

More Sustenance!
I've decided to shelve YAs for a few months. After so many, they're starting to seem like candy to me. And I love candy, but, you know, meatloaf is good too. It takes longer to eat and to digest, though, so postings may come a bit slower in the future.

Next up: How Does It Feel to Be a Problem? by Moustafa Bayoumi.

John Grisham Gains 20 Pounds

The quaint beach cottage where we spend about a week each year is stocked with a lot of reading material, much of which is a little too quaint to tempt me. But when I finished a YA recommended by my 12-year-old on vaca day #2, I figured I couldn't be picky. I picked up The Broker by John Grisham, and I'm glad I did. It was pretty good!

Not as good as The Firm, The Pelican Brief, or A Time To Kill, mind you - but the plot was well-paced and interesting, and I loved the setting. Most of the action takes place in Italy and Washington D.C., with stops in Germany and Switzerland.

In the book's acknowledgment, Grisham acknowledges that his "research" in Italy caused him to gain 20 pounds. I'm not surprised. More than a handful of meals are described in great detail...great, mouthwatering detail.

I won't spoil a read by revealing much about the plot; it's enough to say the book is about international espionage, and it restored my faith in the author. After reading the awful Skipping Christmas (good idea, terrible execution) I'd decided I was done with Grisham.

Grisham answered readers' questions in the January issue of Time magazine. His official website is here.

And, I must confess, I left the book aboard our return flight, on purpose. I wrote that it was a "freecycle" book and that I hoped someone who needs something to read will take it. There's only so much space on our bookshelves...and in our luggage.

Graphic Novels - Good & Bad

I just read The Plain Janes and loved it! But I finished it in 40 minutes! I hate it when that happens.

Which is the good and bad in this revelation, folks. I learned that a good writer (Cecil Castelluci) and a good illustrator (Jim Rugg) can turn out a very good story, even if it looks like a comic book. (Admission: this bookworm never liked comic books. A character flaw, I've been told.) It's just over too quickly!

I've just begun Castelluci's other 2005 release, Boy Proof, and so far, I'm less enamored. I'm only on page 25 and already I've tallied at least a dozen bad words, including several F-words. Realistic dialog, maybe. But still... not a plus in my book. More later. I also already know I'll forgive Castellucci - the story is off to a pretty good start.

Rules of the Road Driven by Characters

Rules of the Road by Joan Bauer features well-developed characters driving a fairly predictable story about growing up. The story isn't developed enough for me to consider it a coming-of-age story, exactly, but I think it's worth recommending to the 12-15 or 16 y.o. set.

Bauer's language keeps the story moving, and the pace of things ramps up very nicely when it should - during action-sequences and other tense moments.

Not wanting to offer a major spoiler, here's the story in a nutshell: Sixteen-year-old Jenna Boller, in a self-diagnosed "slump," feels like her job (selling shoes at Gladstone's) is the only area of her life where she succeeds. When her alcoholic father returns to annoy her, and the about-to-retire Mrs. Gladstone asks Jenna to drive her to Texas for the annual shareholders' meeting, fate hands Jenna the keys to her future. From Chicago to Texas, Jenna learns she can handle the road, a few demons from her own past, and the challenge of the future. A new hairstyle in the process helps.

I don't mean to trivialize the book (or the power or the right hairstyle) but folks, this is a book for girls.

As an aspiring fiction writer, I'm keeping the book on my shelf because I think Bauer provides a good example of getting the pacing right. I'm also hoping my daughter will pick it up off the shelf. While the plot line seemed rather obvious to me and there are too many cliches for my liking, the fact is, that's OK in YA fiction. We grownups who read kid lit have to remember that when it seems obvious or cliched to us it may not be to our kids, who haven't read quite as much or for as long as we have.

Related links:
This Fun Trivia quiz about Rules of the Road was created for kids, but I enjoyed it (and you might too) as a way to test my tired old brain. (I did OK. How 'bout you?) And homeschoolers or teachers may appreciate this http://www.joanbauer.com/rulesguide/index.htm teaching guide, designed for 8th-9th graders.

More Like Animal Dreams, Please

Barbara Kingsolver knows how to write. She describes people, places, things, and feelings in such a way - in only a few words - that they get under your skin, and you understand all you need to know about them. The language she uses isn't lengthy or flowery; it's overwhelmingly beautiful in its simple perfection.

While many writers can say a lot in a few words, what sets Kingsolver apart is how expertly she uses those few words to tell a story; even her descriptions move the action forward. Consider the expedient, but unrushed unfolding of Animal Dreams:

about the place, Grace, AZ: [p. 40]

people here spent their childhoods tearing through the homes of their future in-laws

about the shy doctor, the boyfriend left behind: [p. 41]

He could face new flesh wounds each day at work, but he avoided actual people.

about going home: [p.69]

My father, the only real candidate for center of my universe, was content to sail his private sea and leave me on my own. I still held that against him. I hadn't thought before about how self-sufficiency could turn on your in old age or sickness. The captain was going down with his ship. It became possible for me to go back to Grace.

The main character and narrator of Animal Dreams is Codi, a self-described educated vagabond. Codi returns to her childhood home to check on her father, who may or may not be dying. I'm afraid to review the plot further, for fear I'd make the book sound like "just" another can't-go-home-again story, and that would be ridiculous.

In fact, for the most part, Animal Dreams is about going home, and within its pages, Kingsolver (once again) proves that a good storyteller can make even the oldest stories worth hearing again.

A Decade of Work

I'll admit I'm only on page 16, but so far the most incredible thing I've read in Doris Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals is that she spent TEN YEARS writing the book. Yikes! I understand how she could become engulfed in the project, though - and pouring over hundreds of diaries, letters, and newspaper articles seems to have given her a great deal of insight into the already-widely-profiled Lincoln.

So, I'm sure it'll be a great book... I'm just not sure I'm going to finish it before the end of the year.