- The Denver Post’s 50 Books to Wrap. No Lost Girls? I mean, it’s a beautiful book that, I suspect, is fun for the whole family. (via Bookdwarf)
- Inland Empire trailer. (via Matthew Tiffany)
- Salman Rushdie no longer fears for his life. He fears that his novels will become increasingly irrelevant.
- RotR fave John Barth gets an all-too-brief writeup from the Baltimore Sun. We’re talking a total of four sentences coming from Barth’s lips that are in the article. This is ridiculous. If you’re going to lowball such an interesting author like Barth, what’s the point in publishing this?
- Tori Spelling is writing a memoir. The first draft was composed by her intern.
- Literary speed dating has made its way to Melbourne.
- It’s a sure bet that Rory Ewins will be at Wembley.
- Shannon Garrity’s Narbonic will be ending on December 31, 2006. The strip has run continuously since July 31, 2000 without missing a single day. So Garrity has earned a vacation. Garrity appeared on The Bat Segundo Show #32. (via The Beat)
- Congratulations, Bookninja.
- Wordie: like Flickr, but without the photos. (via Books, Words & Writing)
Lazyass Roundup
– December 4, 2006Posted in: Roundup
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
“…a beautiful book that, I suspect, is fun for the whole family.”
Sure, if the name of your family is the Aristocrats!
Figures you like Barth.
Barth is God, plain and simple. Sotweed=Heaven.
Yes, fun for the whole family, but good luck getting it back from Uncle Carl. He’s been wandering around lately muttering about Aunt Millie not putting out, and he’s got that weird look in his eye again. Better make sure he doesn’t see it until after everybody else.