Wednesday, December 29, 2021

"To Kill a Mockingbird" Wins NYT Best Book Contest

 Last October, to mark the 125th anniversary of its Book Review section, the New York Times asked readers to nominate the best book published in a variety of different categories during that time frame,

In its Dec. 29, 2021 edition, the Times announced that after tallying more than 200,000 votes from all 50 states and 67 foreign countries, the winner for fiction was "To Kill a Mocking Bird," by Harper Lee.

I've written about "To Kill a Mocking Bird" (and arguably its very different first draft, subsequently published as "Go Set a Watchman") here, here and here

Those interesting in taking another look at "Mockingbird" might find it interesting to consult what I have written about it before doing so.

By the way, back in 2012, "To Kill a Mockingbird" came in second on a 200-best-books list offered by the British Broadcasting Company -- just after Jane Austin's classic "Pride and Prejudice."   You can find that list here.


Sunday, December 26, 2021

Thanks to Amber and Mary for Rating "Gina/Diane" Highly

 I would like to take a moment to thank two women -- Amber and Mary -- for giving my novella "Gina/Diane" five-star ratings on "Goodreads," where Kindle versions of the book were recently awarded to 100 applicants in a promotional giveaway. 

I thought this might be a good time to promote the book because it is about the consequences of a then-illegal abortion. While it is inspired by something that actually happened, it is a work of fiction.

As readers surely know, the U.S. Supreme Court is currently in the process of revisiting the issue of abortion rights currently enshrined in its 1973 decision known as Roe v. Wade. Given the makeup of the court, abortion-rights advocates have expressed fears at least some individual states will return to the sort of environment that adversely affected my heroine.

"Enjoyed this storyline and read," Mary said about "Gina/Diane."  I'm grateful for her having taken the time to do so -- and I'm grateful that Amber took the time to rate the book as well.

The Methodology of "A Lot Of Things Have Happened"

 One of the age-old questions is: should a work of art, such as a short story, be able to stand on its own, without explanation, to be valid? In other words, if its creator has to explain it, is it a failure?

In general, I think that's a good general proposition, but there are exceptions, and such is arguably the case with respect to "A Lot Of Things Have Happened," a short story by Adam Levin in the Dec. 27, 2021 issue of The New Yorker. It's a string of awkwardly unpleasant, or downright disgusting, incidents that take place over a period of years to a college instructor, first with a girlfriend and then with his wife.

Curiously, he is named Adam Levin, or at least that's what his parrot calls him -- sometimes just "Adam," other times just "Levin," but in the last two words of the story: "Adam Levin." The complete name out of the parrot's beak seems to imply that we now know everything we need to know about Mr. Levin. The preceding set of incidents in the story paint him in full -- as someone who, if you don't happen to know him, you don't need to.

In the usual New Yorker author interview, Levin (the author) is asked how he went about constructing his story and this is where matters get more interesting.

In reply, Levin, a seasoned writer, said that he had recently gotten more interested in trying to figure out how to put anecdotal material together without "artful transition." 

"With this particular story, the first thing I did was write a handful of fictional, largely disconnected, first-person anecdotes as sparsely and impactfully and comically as I could, each one in the same voice. Once a certain number of these anecdotes accrued—a greater number, to be sure, than appear here, in “A Lot of Things Have Happened”—I began to notice some commonalities between the anecdotes (example: tools kept getting misused) and adjusted the volume on those commonalities so as to make the anecdotes more continuous with one another. In the course of doing that, I began to discover what the larger story wanted to be (or what I wanted it to be), I cut away the redundancies and distractions as best I could, and rearranged the order of the anecdotes till (hopefully) they fell into the sequence that best served the whole."

Interested readers can decide for themselves whether Levin was successful in putting together a compelling work of fiction, but his methodology is worth thinking about. I think one often stumbles across, or comes up with, a vignette that seems worthy of writing up, only then to wonder: "What to do with it? "

Thursday, December 2, 2021

Goodreads Giveaway for Gina/Diane, a Book About Abortion

 


Above is the cover of my second novella, "Gina/Diane," first self-published several years ago. But because it is about abortion, I thought it might be a good time to make a small promotional effort, given the U.S. Supreme Court's current agenda and very recent deliberations.

"Gina/Diane," inspired by what happened to a woman I once knew, looks back to a time -- not that long ago -- when abortion was illegal in the U.S.  This is not that woman's story per se. It's fiction, set in an entirely different location: an out-of-season North Carolina beach community. But the more poignant aspects of it are all too true with respect to at least one life, and I suspect others as well.

The promotional effort took the form of a Goodreads giveaway for books available on Amazon's Kindle platform, which is to say either on a Kindle reader or on a computer or a smartphone equipped with a Kindle app. 

One pays about $120 to have Goodreads, an arm of Amazon, run a month-long promotion of the type I purchased.  Results were reported to be as follows: 533 people entered the drawing of which 100 were awarded a free Kindle edition of the book and 465 people supposedly put it on a "want-to-read" list. 

 Based on the results of a similar giveaway I ran for my first book, "Manhattan Morning" back some time ago, that doesn't mean much, if anything at all.

(By the way, if you click on the link above, you can now get a free, illustrated edition of "Manhattan Morning" in an easy-to-read PDF format. As Manhattan is changing, the book is gradually becoming a document of some historical relevance as well as a good story for those disinclined toward violence, weird sex, etc. etc. And the ending closely tracks a real-life incident.)

In my experience, a Goodreads giveaway is a poor way to market a book (the best way is to somehow become a member of the Literary Industrial Complex at which point the New Yorker may publish an excerpt masquerading as a short story and interview you with some softball questions. But a Goodreads giveaway is easy, leaving one plenty of time for other pursuits.

As for "Gina/Diane" itself, what can I say other than: "I highly recommend it!" 







Thursday, November 11, 2021

The Nature of Women, and Sociopolitical Observations

 "What do women want?" is an age-old question and one that is particularly relevant for writers of fiction -- male authors in particular, I suppose.

With men it is easy: they want power, money, sex and celebrity in no particular order since one of those objectives often brings all or most of the others along with it.  Endless books revolve around such themes. 

With women it has been more of a puzzle, but two articles in the Nov. 11, 2021 New York Times may be of some help. Both -- one in the arts section and the other in the sports section -- involve violence on the part of women toward other women.

The arts section article concerns "Yellowjackets," a film about to appear on "Showtime" that depicts first what happens when a place carrying a U.S. girl's soccer team crashes in a remote location and then what happens to the survivors. Essentially, as the NYT article suggests, it's a gender-reverse version of "Lord of the Flies." Instead of young boys turning against each other in a sadistic fashion, this time it is girls.

"It argues for the savagery of girlhood -- with or without an aviation disaster -- and how that savagery reverberates throughout women's lives," the article says.

Let's pause for a moment and consider a major current of sociopolitical thought these days: that white males are responsible for most if not all of the world's ills.  Suppose the patriarchy is successfully toppled; what sort of a world are we in for next?

"The show abounds with strong women, none of whom you would want to share a bottle of chardonnay with," is one observation contained therein. Another is: "There's a very specific feminine way of brutalizing each other."

But even before the plane crash, some of the girls are depicted as malevolent at home in up-scale suburbia. One betrays a friend and another grievously injures a teammate.

Which brings me to the NYT sports section article. It reports on the arrest -- and subsequent release -- of a French professional woman soccer player suspected of being instrumental in the beating of one of her teammates by a couple of thugs who concentrated on injuring the victim's legs while stealing nothing from her. The accused woman was described to be an understudy of the victim and, indeed, replaced her as a starter when the victim, a French national team veteran, was unable to play in a subsequent match.

While no charges have been filed, an investigation by French authorities is continuing,

It is now necessary to pause for a second time and consider another prevailing sociopolitical issue: racism.

The two NYT articles on the incident -- reporting the arrest and then the release -- did not mention the race of either of the two women, but large photos accompanying the pieces showed clearly that one -- the suspected perpetrator based on names in the caption -- is black and the victim white.

Let's think about that for a moment. If this incident had occurred in the U.S. and the race of the victim had been black as opposed to white and the alleged perpetrator white rather than black, this incident would have been trumped as another example of the endemic racism that is said to characterize American society.

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

A Couple of Reasons to Read "Hello, Goodbye" by Yiyun Li

 Did you meet someone in your first year of college who became a friend for life?  Are you a parent who has difficulty, or memorably had difficulty, dealing with the wisdom of young children?

If the answer to either of those questions is "yes," you might enjoy Yiyun Li's short story in the Nov. 15, 2021 edition of The New Yorker entitled "Hello, Goodbye."

The story, like a lot of  contemporary literary fiction, doesn't go much of anywhere at the end of the day, but it's well written. It's a partial exploration of certain interpersonal relationships as opposed to a tale that ends in the resolution of a plot or a set of issues.

The friendship is between two women, Nina, a daughter of Chinese immigrants, and Katie, who is apparently white and of European descent. Brought up in Kansas and Indiana, respectively, they went to U.C. Berkeley and ended up saying in California, both working in marketing (of course) for Silicon Valley firms. This was back in the late 1990s.

After that backdrop, the story jumps 20 years or so forward, into the current pandemic. Nina has a couple of precocious young daughters and a reliable, but boring husband. Katie, who has never had a child, wants to get out of her marriage to a wealthy jerk considerably older than she is and arrives on Nina's doorstep in need of help. Nina tries to balance her friend's needs with those of her children, the latter exacerbated by the pandemic and her husband's rather passive attitude toward parenting. 

If that sounds interesting, perhaps because you can identify with one or more aspects of the situation, I recommend "Hello, Goodbye."  The dialog in particular is good. If not, forget it. 

Perhaps the most memorable sentence in the entire story comes near the beginning. It goes as follows: "Nina was 27, not helplessly young, yet far from being trapped in a mildewed marriage, as she tended to believe many middle-aged women were." Readers can decide for themselves the extent to which she may have ended up in one. 

In the usual New Yorker author interview, Ms Li said that when it comes to relationships, she believes "muddling through" is better than wrecking things by opting for more extreme measures. The story is definitely in that vein.

Monday, November 1, 2021

Anna Sui, G.F Handel And Girls Who Are Careless of Time



Do you ever read an article and have a phrase jump out and get you thinking about something different?

That happened to me recently when I was reading a profile of fashion designer Anna Sui in a recent edition of "T, the New York Times Style Magazine."

The clothes she makes aren’t totems of some inaccessibly glamorous life but an invitation: to join the party, to be one of those girls, careless of time and most alive in a crowd, in the crush and heave of friends and strangers who by the end of the night will also be friends.

"One of those girls, careless of time" is the phrase that jumped out at me and got me thinking of an outstanding performance of George Fredrick Handel's first oratorio, "The Triumph of Time," which premiered in 1707 in Rome.  The performance was by Seattle-based Pacific Musicworks and you can listen to it by clicking on that link.

The libretto, a cautionary tale, was written by a Catholic Cardinal named Benedetto Pamphili. In essence, beautiful women are warned against devoting themselves to earthly pleasure and urged to instead make them themselves fit for heaven before it is too late. Delay is dangerous because Time will inevitably triumph.

Could an Anna Sui dress be dangerous, making a woman "careless of time" in the vein of Handel's oratorio?  Or perhaps the author had something else in mind when penning that phrase, but what could it be?

Time, of course, does eventually triumph when it comes to mortals and Handel, himself, eventually succumbed.  Interestingly, a revised version of "The Triumph of Time," with the libretto reworked into English by Thomas Morell, was performed in 1757 when Handel was blind. He died in 1759.