A perfect response to censorship

Just a quick note to draw your attention here, to the blog of James LaRue, librarian and scholar. He has posted his response to a patron's recent challenge of a children's picture book on gay marriage that is a marvel of eloquence, tact, and diplomacy.

***
You feel that a book about gay marriage is inappropriate for young children. But another book in our collection, “Daddy's Roommate,” was requested by a mother whose husband left her, and their young son, for another man. She was looking for a way to begin talking about this with son. Another book, “Alfie's Home,” was purchased at the request of another mother looking for a way to talk about the suspected homosexuality of her young son from a Christian perspective. There are gay parents in Douglas County, right now, who also pay taxes, and also look for materials to support their views. We don't have very many books on this topic, but we do have a handful.

In short, most of the books we have are designed not to interfere with parents' notions of how to raise their children, but to support them. But not every parent is looking for the same thing.
***

Bravo, James. You do every librarian a credit with your reason and fortitude. Unfortunately, my experience has been that people who complain over such issues are invariably the people least likely to value reasoned discourse.

First sentence of whatever page I'm on in whatever books I'm reading, July 22, 2008

Back at the office, Armstrong said, "Maybe you don't want to do that."

John McFetridge, Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, page 145

It was there when I woke up, I swear.

Jonathan Lethem, Gun, With Occasional Music, page 3

"I..." the jaggedly precise tone in his voice was enough to make me hesitate "...I don't know. It's just a feeling."

Ian R. MacLeod, "The Giving Mouth," Steampunk, eds. Ann & Jeff Vandermeer, page 56

How to write the great American novel

Sure, I'm Canadian, but the concept is the same.

Thanks to Matt Staggs for bringing this momentous instruction video to my attention.

Who's Reading What this Summer? Episode 7 - Steven Beattie

On tonight's action-packed episode of Summer Readings of People You May or May Not Have Heard of, I present book reviewer and writer Steven Beattie.

Steven is a reviewer for Quill & Quire, a publication which covers all aspects of the Canadian publishing industry. Plus, in addition to his immaculate credentials and probing reviews, he's a swell guy, and the first person outside of my editor and immediate family to review Shelf Monkey. Needless to say, he was bowled over by my wit and style. That's the way I remember it, anyways. And if his last review is any indication, he's a real fan of Kenneth J. Harvey, and if goes without saying, so should you all.

So what's on your plate for the next few months, Steven?

I always get somewhat agitated by those newspaper and magazine lists of “suggested summer reading,” which invariably include copious amounts of chick lit, drugstore romances, and thrillers. It’s the same mentality that plagues Hollywood, with its spate of “tentpole” pictures in the summer months: comic book movies, remakes of ‘60s TV series, and sequels. For some reason, our cultural arbiters seem to think that our brains shut down when the temperature starts to climb.

Perhaps as a reaction to this, I’ve decided to reread Joyce’s Ulysses this summer. I attempt a reread of this novel every five years or so, secure in the knowledge that I’ll have a different experience with it each time, and that I’ll not come any closer to a complete understanding of it. It’s so protean and alive, it really is like reading a different book with each pass.

Also on tap is Bill Gaston’s new novel, The Order of Good Cheer. Gaston is one of my favourite authors, and when I first heard that he had written an historical novel, I must admit I reacted with some dread. However, I’m excited to find that the historical aspect only accounts for half the narrative, and I’m always happy to follow where Gaston takes me, regardless.

Finally, I hope to catch up on some stuff I’ve missed in the last ten months or so:

• Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson
  
• Man Gone Down by Michael Thomas
• The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño
• Zeroville by Steve Erickson.

Those, plus the stuff I have to read for work, should keep me going during the dog days.

Merci beaucoup, Steven. And again, pick up any Kenneth J. Harvey you can find, and look for a review of his latest novel Blackstrap Hawco on this blog sometime in the near future.

The Killing Circle by Andrew Pyper - book review

Ah, the life of the lowly author who realizes that his output is not one that reaches the subjective level of high art, but rather belongs quite snugly under that dreaded (and equally subjective) label of popular fiction. What a crushing blow to the psyche it must be to aspire to join the esteemed ranks of Bellow, Roth, and Findley, and instead find oneself lumped in with the likes of Grisham, Koontz, and Patterson.

Canadian author Andrew Pyper has been battling with this conundrum for quite some time now. A writer with a poet’s eye for atmosphere and an entertainer’s skill at building crackerjack entertainments, Pyper has found himself more often than not consigned to the shelves of popular fiction. But a) why should that be considered a bad thing, and b) who ever said an author couldn’t be both? It’s a hoary old chestnut (but true nonetheless) that Charles Dickens wrote his stories to entertain the masses, and his artistry was only truly understood and appreciated through the passage of time.

Take Pyper’s debut novel Lost Girls, a story initially marketed as a John Grishamesque legal thriller. Using the well-worn plot device of a lawyer, Pyper wove a story far more thrilling than anything Grisham ever produced, layering on the themes of death, loss, grief, and memory with an artist’s touch. Lost Girls was an ‘entertainment’ in the sense that it followed a linear plot, had exciting characters and plot twists, and was in every sense a ‘page-turner’. But it was ‘literary’ in its complexity of character, its crafting of mood, its evocation of dread. Lost Girls was to a John Grisham construction as a microbrewed lager is to a can of Busch Lite; the ingredients are more or less the same, but only one shows care, craft, and character. Only one, in other words, is really any good.

Pyper belongs to the rarified sphere of thriller authors who bring far more to the table than a performer’s understanding of how to draw an audience in. Like Walter Mosley and George Pelecanos, Pyper writes novels that exhilarate first and foremost, yet explore themes that would cripple lesser writers. No one of any sense would write that Mosley’s Easy Rawling novels were simply mysteries that, once solved, were to be tossed aside. They aren’t confections filled with empty calories. They stick with you; big juicy three-course meals.

But maybe I’m reading too much into it. Or maybe I’m overcome with gratitude that finally, someone has written a novel with a book reviewer as the main protagonist. Either way, The Killing Circle, Pyper’s fourth novel, is his best to date.

The hero is Patrick Rush, a former National Star book reviewer who has slowly descended the hierarchy of the newspaper to become what is surely the nadir of journalistic identity, the television reviewer. Stuck watching taped programs with titles such as Falling from Buildings! and Animals that Kill!, Patrick longs for what every book reviewer secretly wants; “I longed to be an embossed name on a spine, to belong to the knighthood of those selected to stand alongside their alphabetical neighbours on bookshop and library shelves. The great and nearly so, the famous and wrongly overlooked. The living and the dead.” Patrick suffers from a malady common to the frustrated author; “I could no longer open the Book Review of the Sunday Times without causing physical pain to myself. The publishers. The authors’ names. The titles. All belonging to books that weren’t mine.” No self-respecting book reviewer (or wanna-be author) will be able to resist Pyper’s accurate and caustically funny depictions of the deep-seated cravings for fame common to every person who has attempted to pen a story of their own.

The problem for Patrick is not the drive to write, but rather the fact that he has nothing to say − although if you consider that he is now writing his story (or is he?), you must then assume that something interesting must have happened. Patrick joins a writing circle to help jumpstart his writing, but instead of finding an avenue into his own stories, he finds himself entranced by the disturbed writings of Angela, a member who tells stories of a childhood tragedy and a “terrible man who does terrible things.” While Patrick worries that assuming that Angela’s tales were based on fact would reveal himself as “that most lowly drooler of the true-crime racks, the literal-minded rube who demands the promise of Based on a True Story! from his paperbacks and popcorn flicks,” there are eerie parallels in the story to certain news items making headlines.

It spoils nothing to reveal that the terrible man does show up and begin committing terrible things, as Pyper expertly turns the screws on the suspense, and takes a few unexpected turns along the way. The Killing Circle offers some sick and twisted fun, especially when Patrick realizes that he is living “[not] the life of one who writes or even writes about books, but a malingering lowbrow who wrongly thinks he deserves better. No wonder, when his life decides to assume the shape of literature, it isn’t a novel of ideas, but a chronicle of murder and suspicion… A bloody page-turner.”

An author becoming a part of his own personal horror story is not exactly a new literary theme − Stephen King (talk about a thriller writer with talent!) has created an entire cottage industry around the conceit − but Pyper layers his serial killer tale with a meta-layer on the importance of stories themselves to the individual. Are the stories we live important to others? When is a story truly our own? Are we even the main characters in our own lives? As Patrick muses, “Nobody lives their life as though they’ve only been cast in a grisly cameo.” Pyper takes full delight in keeping the reader guessing as to the true identity of the killer, so much so that Patrick himself cannot guarantee that he’s not making the whole thing up. He might not even be telling the story, if it’s his to tell at all.

Pyper does a splendid job of lampooning the literary types who dismiss popular fictions while at the same time straddling both worlds. The Killing Circle is a terrific thriller for those who want it simple, and an intricate exploration into personal myths and stories for those who demand a little more meat on their bones. Scary, original, and unsettling, The Killing Circle is a treat.

Who's reading What this Summer? Episode 6 - Mark Rayner

Next up to the plate: Canadian author and website guru Mark Rayner. Mark was my professor in a website architecture course, but he's also an accomplished satirist and novelist, with a twisted take on the world and a love of a good pun. Mark is the author of The Amadeus Net, a deeply warped sci-fi/fantasy that's easy to love, and even easier to promote. He's also a founding member in the Emily Chesney Reading Circle, a brilliantly funny faux-history of the writings of one of Canada's first speculative fantasists.

From Mark's Bio:

Mark was born in the Atomic Age, and is still pleasantly surprised that he was not vaporized in the mid-80s.

Early in life he wanted to be a pirate. He was disappointed to learn that since the Age of Sail, piracy has mostly been the vocation of lawyers and corporate accountants, so he set his sights on the exciting new career of explorer.

Then he turned six. Since then, his range of careers has been nothing short of spectacular, something from the Age of Exaggeration:

mountain climber
astronaut
bartender
singing telegram delivery man (freelance gigolo)
journalist (indentured gigolo)
evil marketing genius (slave gigolo)
positive thinker.
Throughout these varied and most interesting careers, Mark has maintained his love of storytelling. (Even when his Mom told him to "stop it, for the love of God, stop with the stories!" --sorry Mom.)

His own tale is currently set in London, Ontario (Canada), where he shares a home in Old South with his partner, Heather, and their two furry faux-progeny: Mr. Magoo (handsome heavyweight cat) and Ceilidh (goofy giant white doggy).

And on Mark's night-table?

I've finally gotten into my summer reading, so here's the rundown on what's happening with the pile. I've recently finished:
A fictional history, Roma, by Stephen Saylor, which is a great read, especially if you're into the whole Rome thing. (It takes you from the time of legends up until Augustus.)
Then I read a collection of short stories about the consummate poltroon, Sir Harry Flashman, VC, called Flashman and the Tiger. I love the character created by George McDonald Fraser, but this book was a bit disappointing compared to the novels. (Still, McDonald Fraser's disappointing is still entertaining.)
Next on my list of things to read is Theodore Rex, the second volume in Edmund Morris's masterful biography of Theodore Roosevelt. Right now I'm about two-thirds through the first volume, The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt. Morris won the Pulitzer in 1980 for the bio, which reads like a well-paced novel, and crackles with wit.
The rest of the pile looks like this:
Martin Amis -- House of Meetings
Michael Chabon -- The Yiddish Policeman's Union
Neil Gaiman -- Fragile Things
Richard Kaempfer - $everance - "A scathing satire about the current state of the consolidated mainstream broadcast media, an insight into the way the political parties have converted broadcasting into a partisan screech-fest, and a spotlight on who and what really runs the media."
This is published by ENC Press, who published my first novel, The Amadeus Net. I've read a number of the other authors that Olga has published, and I've enjoyed every one immensely, though I have to say my favourite so far is fellow Canadian Craig Forgrave's Devil Jazz, in which the Devil recruits the souls of Hitler, Marylin Monroe and Van Gogh to bring about the end of days.

Who's Reading What This Summer? Episode 5 - Nick DiChario

Episode 5 already? It seems like only yesterday that it was episode 4. Two days ago, tops.

This episode's star contributor: acclaimed science-fiction novelist Nick DiChario. Nick is the author of two of my favourite sci-fi novels - scratch that, two of my favourite novels, all genres - over the last few years, A Small and Remarkable Life and Valley of Day-Glo.

From Nick's bio:

I began writing when I was just a kid. I would write and draw my own comic books, make up all the characters and stories, sketch out the panels and color them with crayons. I always wanted to be a writer.
When I graduated college, I began submitting stories to science fiction magazines. One of my first short stories, "The Winterberry," was nominated for a Hugo Award and a World Fantasy Award. Since then, I've been published in science fiction, fantasy, mystery, and mainstream publications in the United States and abroad, and I've been very fortunate to see some of these stories reprinted in The Year’s Best Science Fiction, The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, and The Best Alternate History Stories of the 20th Century, among others.
Since 1992 I've taught creative writing workshops for people of all ages and backgrounds at Writers & Books, one of the largest non-profit literary centers in the United States. I have also been a writing professor at St. John Fisher College and the Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT), and I've appeared as a guest lecturer, panelist, speaker, and reader at many schools, seminars, and conventions, including the University of South Florida, the University of Limerick in Ireland, and numerous World Science Fiction Conventions around the world.

And what does this talented writer have in store for himself over the lazy hazy crazy days of summer?

Identity Theft, by Robert J. Sawyer: A short story collection from one of science fiction's best authors. Sawyer has won the Hugo and Nebula awards and several Aurora's, among many other honors. He says he's not going to be writing many more short stories as he concentrates on longer works. This is a hefty collection of 17 very accessible stories that is sure to delight, even if you are not a science fiction reader.

The Silver Swan, by Benjamin Black: If you're a fan of noir, like me, with angst-ridden protagonists and messy crimes, try Black. This is his second book in the series. You might also want to pick up the first, Christine Falls. The writing is a true pleasure. (Black is the pen name of John Banville, Booker Prize winner in 2005 for the highly-acclaimed novel The Sea.)

When You Are Engulfed in Flames, by David Sedaris: Humorist, satirist, all-around hysterically funny essayist -- no one can better pick apart the human condition with such razor-sharp insight and make you laugh harder with black humor. This is a new collection, but if you've never had the pleasure of reading Sedaris, pick up everything you can get your hands on!

Shelf Monkey, by Corey Redekop: This is NOT shameless promotion! How can a book-lover resist a book about books? I had a chance to meet Corey at the Canadian Book Expo in Toronto earlier this year, and I'm looking forward to reading his award-winning novel (Gold Medal for Best Popular Fiction Novel at the 2008 Independent Publisher Book Awards).

Thanks, Nick, and your cheque is in the mail!

Who's Reading What This Summer? Episode 4 - Jim Hall

Today's entry in the cavalcade of summer literary pleasures is brought to you by interviewer and book enthusiast Jim Hall.

Jim is the host of Cult Pop, a Michigan-based cable program (available online) devoted to lengthy and in-depth interviews with some of the more fascinating figures in genre fiction, including Jeff Vandermeer, Karl Schroeder, and Elizabeth Bear. And yes, I include myself as being among the 'fascinating' figures. Have you ever met me? Hell, I'm downright spectacular.

Jim's current 2008 summer picks:

I am reading Baltimore by Mike Mignola and Christopher Golden.
I am just finishing Sly Mongoose by Tobias Buckell, and I just love it.
At the City's Edge by Marcus Sakey.
Corrupted Science by John Grant and I am looking forward to Brad Meltzer's new novel[The Book of Lies].

Cult Pop is a terrific program, and really opens your eyes to some novels you might otherwise not have heard about. Based on Jim's interview with Lauren Groff, I picked up a copy of her debut novel The Monsters of Templeton, and order all of you to do the same. It is an astonishing feat of imagination. Damn but she can write good.

The Order of Good Cheer by Bill Gaston - Book review

The Order of Good Cheer
by Bill Gaston
House of Anansi, 400 pages, $29.95

When all is despair, and hope is near lost, what is the one event that perks up man’s spirits so that he may carry in on the face of adversity? Apparently, a party.

At least, that’s what the two protagonists in Bill Gaston’s extraordinary new novel The Order of Good Cheer would have us believe. And as one of the two is legendary explorer Samuel de Champlain, allowing Gaston the benefit of a doubt would seem appropriate.

The Order of Good Cheer, aside from being co-opted by Gaston for his title, was a series of feast nights begun by Champlain in the settlement of Annapolis Royal in 1607. After a harsh experience with the perils of the Canadian wilderness, Champlain’s idea was to hold a meal to celebrate “our new home, and our own good company, and the good cheer that God provides.”

Such feasts became legendary, and may also have helped abate the scurvy that plagued the solders throughout their tenure in the north. Champlain’s Order was seen as a celebration of fellowship and, to Gaston’s mind, a vital component in keeping the men of the settlement, “eager to break from winter’s damning confines,” in high spirits and healthy mind.

Flash-forward 400 years, and Andy Winslow suffers from a similar dilemma. Where Champlain was confronted with “the blooming restlessness” of an untamed Canadian winter, Andy faces a challenging environment of man’s own design: “the seas were rising and throwing dead fish on the beach, the third world was kindling, everyone’s weather was wrong.”

As Andy undergoes the rigours of life in the economically strained township of Prince Rupert, he, too, faces loneliness and uncertainty, exacerbated by the impending arrival of his childhood sweetheart after twenty years apart. Inspired by his reading of Champlain, he decides to follow the example and host a party of unusual foods and circumstances, “[a] time to gather and toast each other with candle-light glinting in all eyes and off smiling teeth.”

By now, it is an accepted fact that Gaston is one of the most talented writers currently on the Canadian literary scene. His novels and short story collections have all been critically acclaimed, with his last effort Gargoyles a multiple award-winner as well as a finalist for the Governor General’s Literary Award.

With that in mind, it should come as no surprise that The Order of Good Cheer is a fine novel. But Gaston surpasses himself, intermingling two narratives with such aplomb and dissimilar cadence that one might suspect they were the product of two separate individuals.

Gaston also proves himself a maestro of physical atmosphere, conjuring up two distinct worlds that threaten collapse and possible apocalypse at any moment. Placed against such backdrops, his characters shine in all their flawed glory, choosing to celebrate the moment because that’s all that may be left to them.

The Order of Good Cheer is a feast of nuanced writing, blessed with one of those rare endings that are absolutely perfect. Gaston has crafted a bittersweet ode to friendship, loss, and near-hopelessness that lingers in the mind long after the story has come to a close, like the last few minutes of a get-together when the wine has finally settled in the stomach, the anecdotes are all told, and all that remains is comfortable silence.

Who's Reading What This Summer? Episode 3 - Jim Munroe

While I lick my wounds and hang my head at not making the shortlist for this year's Relit Award - side note: I'm tired of being unappreciated in my lifetime - I thought I'd better present the next chapter in my ongoing series on the book-reading habits of people who interest me.

Today's participant: Canadian novelist (Flyboy Action Figure Comes With Gasmask, An Opening Act of Unspeakable Evil) and darling of the independent publishing world Jim Munroe. 

Jim's Bio:

Jim Munroe, 35, is a “pop culture provocateur” according to the Austin Chronicle, and Time Out Chicago dubbed him an “independent press icon”. After leaving HarperCollins for political reasons, he founded No Media Kings and published five books, the most recent one a post-Rapture graphic novel called Therefore Repent! He also started The Perpetual Motion Roadshow, an indie touring circuit that sent 100 artists on the road between 2003-2007, and currently he is running the Artsy Games Incubator, a writer’s-circle style group helping creators without programming skills make videogames. He lives in Toronto with a crafty ladyscientist and their bafflingly attractive baby.

Jim is also a heckuva nice guy, and his site is filled with useful info on all aspects of getting your book published with minimal outside help. And if you haven't read Flyboy yet, shame on you.

Jim's summer readings:

Two books I heard about at Wiscon that I've just started:

Wit's End, Karen Joy Fowler
One of the main characters is a mystery writer, and I'm interested in the genre -- and esp. Fowler's take on it as she's a genre-jumper.

Dragonsbane by Barbara Hambly
This came up during one of the panels about parenting and SF/fantasy, about a couple who're asked to kill a dragon. While it's got a dead-boring by the numbers cover, the first chapter has got a nice balance of realistic character and world detail, defusing the myths of yore without an obvious satiric approach.