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     |  My father’s mother, Dot, pioneered the country I came from. Her name appears in all but the most sterile of regional histories. She taught school in one room school houses and traveled by sled to teach in homes. The canyon bracketing her farm is still named after her father. Continue reading When We Fell In Love – Bruce Holbert  Someone has to write about 9-11 NYC and their name doesn’t have to be McInerney. There is this weird light that is captured in a few novels, especially ones about NYC in the last ten years. I’m sure that’s a generalization. Certainly, it is not to be overlooked because it is actually being published. Continue reading Pile  The central character is a compass that points in many directions from it’s central locus. Or it’s like the beacon of a lighthouse that illuminates reality, including other characters, with its own distinctive coloring as it sweeps around the circumference of the social ocean. Continue reading Old Filth by Jane Gardam I call petrified any form of book marketing that is doesn’t encourage the end user to give back. Example: newspaper ads. What’s on offer from houses most of the time is book NARCeting where publishers try to sell books that marketing departments haven’t read. Do the writer a favor and don’t sell their book. Tell the world what you love about the book. Book marketing should create a framework in which ideas about books are shared in an open atmosphere. That means that any idea about a book is worthwhile. The content has to be honest with the community of book lovers providing any necessary corrective for ill considered or uninformed ideas. Literary criticism is for everybody: I invite publishers to Continue reading The Petrified Forest of Book Marketing and the Great Chain of Other People’s Writers  It’s the nature of Eden to be recognized only when you are leaving it. The studious, private, tactile appropriation of the text in the self-imposed isolation of a physical book, shielded from the ten thousand-eyed monster of marketing, may become a rare experience, celebrated by a bereft band of book connoisseurs, dead tree readers. Continue reading Dead Tree Readers | ||||
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