Sunday, August 24, 2008

Last Lines #3 & The Writing Life #2: Action-Packed, All-Starred, Double-Featured, One Week Anniversary Edition


Just so there's no question whether I'm a complete nerd or not, one of my very favorite television programs is American Masters on PBS. Mainly, I like it because it has to do with how it is hard (not like soldier hard or being born with a terrible disease hard, but hard nonetheless) to be an artist and all that self-indulgent hooey AKA the kind of hooey in which I very much like to indulge. Last night, there was a very good & inspirational one on Leonard Bernstein who would have been ninety years old this week. Among other things, the program talked about how it was hard for him to want to be alone & write when there were so many other interesting things to pursue like conducting & teaching & traveling & peacemaking & hosting fundraisers for the Black Panthers & having a most exhausting social life, etc., etc. This is something I relate to aside from the conducting, teaching, peacemaking, Black Panthers fundraising, & exhausting social life parts. So, Maestro, wherever you are, these last lines go out to you:

"It is enough, it is to be blessed enough, to live from day to day and to hear such music - not too much, or the soul could not sustain it - from time to time."
from
An Equal Music by Vikram Seth*

*An Equal Music is probably one of my favorite books published in the last ten years or so.

**The photograph is of young Leonard Bernstein, who was definitely hot. It's one I took of my television as you can tell by the subtly embossed Thirteen logo...

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Brief Interview with Dog #1



Q: Do you find my tendency to anthropomorphize you annoying?



A: Pug cocks head; says nothing; I take this to mean, "No, it does not."

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Brief Interview with Self #1: Inaugural Edition





Q: Why have a "blog"? Isn't that a bit "2003"?



A: Gee, Self, I'm not entirely sure. Publishers seem to think it's a good idea and I, for one (and you can probably confirm this), was getting awfully tired of re-designing the website every time I wanted to convey the smallest piece of news to readers about my books, etc. But the whole thing still makes me feel a bit queasy/extremely late to the party. Additionally, I have always loathed the word "blog." I also hate "okay" and "baffle."

Monday, August 18, 2008

Adventures in Self-Googling #2: Playmobil Elsewhere

I'm not sure who deserves credit -- it's tagged Evanston Public Library on flickr.com -- but someone has craftily recreated Elsewhere using Playmobil people and other sundries.


Liz gets hit by a truly terrifying ceramic taxi.


The SS Nile.



Cruel Irony -- Liz is given driving lessons in the same vehicle that killed her!



The Well.

View the whole thing: http://flickr.com/photos/28280892@N07/sets/72157605997081879/

Sunday, August 17, 2008

The Writing Life #1: Insatiable with an 'E'

"It wasn’t until the 1980s, when her diaries were published, that the proper and diligent bourgeois woman was revealed to be an often lonely and frustrated person driven by bottomless needs and insatiable longings. (Or to put it another way: a writer.)"

on Anne of Green Gables writer L.M. Montgomery

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/17/books/review/Bolick-t.html?ref=books

Last Lines #2

"If this were really the end, if this were only my story, I would tell you everything."

Love Invents Us by Amy Bloom

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Adventures in Self-Googling #1: Anderswo


A still from a German school play version of Elsewhere.

According to the accompanying newspaper article (and my really precise Babel Fish translation of aforementioned article), it was, in the German tradition, an evening where sadness and humor coexisted in equal measure... Or, um, something sort of close to that.

http://www.svz.de/lokales/guestrow/artikeldetails/article/214/es-war-viel-zu-schnell-zu-ende.html

Friday, August 15, 2008

Last Lines #1

"But the sky was bright, and he somehow felt he was headed in the right direction."

Stuart Little by E.B. White

(in honor of the mouse who passed on my living room rug last night)