Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Vote for Pedro... I mean
vote for Getting the Girl!Getting the Girl is apparently embroiled in some sort of publisher-sponsored death match. Getting the Girl (and Sherman) are probably getting pulverized by their fierce competitor: A Fistful of Charms. (Why do we have to go up against the book with "fist" in the title. Yeesh.) If you scroll down the list, Sherm and I are on Team "Off The Shelf" which is probably a bad sign. I think I'd rather be on "Team Number One Bestseller" or "Team End Caps". But never mind.
Please vote for Getting. Sherman has enough complexes without getting knocked out in the first round like one of those depressing Jeopardy contestants whom you just know will never get over the humiliation.
Oh, and thanks everyone for your notes and facebook comments about Nice Recovery. I ended up sending out 15 ARCs and have a list of people for if I get any extras to give away.
xox
Monday, February 01, 2010
About the New Book
A couple of weeks ago a friend called and asked if I was on drugs.“Excuse me?” I said, somewhat offended.
“My friend said she heard you were on drugs.”
“Uh, no,” I replied.
And then it dawned on me. The new book. There had been a write-up in a book news magazine.
I tried to explain. “I am not on drugs. At least, not any more. Anyway, I was more of a drinker, really.”
I could sense my friend trying to come up with a polite response and I could understand her difficulty. You see, I’m a clean-living unit. I haven’t had a drink or done any drugs since I was twenty years old. That’s twenty years ago now. Sometimes I forget that I ever had a drinking problem.
But I did. I had a serious problem. That's what the new book is about.
Here is the cover:
Isn't it cool? Please note that is not a photo of me. I was never that well dressed or composed while drinking. I was, however, usually quite colour-coordinated, so that part is true.
This morning I gave a semi-incoherent introduction to the book at the BC Booksellers Breakfast. "Coming out" in public as a recovering alcoholic felt awkward. I'm not sure I've quite figured out how to talk about it yet.
I never set out to write about myself. A couple of years ago my agent asked if I had any ideas for a non-fiction book. I said I thought a lighter side of recovery book for young people could be good. You know: what to expect when you’re in detox, Treatment Center 101, interviews with young people in recovery, etc. I would write a little bit of my own experiences in there to flesh it out.
Well, the book found a great publisher, and I was asked to write more of my story and then a little more. Before I knew it, the book contained nearly 200 pages of the Susan Juby Drinky Pants Chronicles as well as another 100 or so pages about recovery and other people’s experiences. (I wanted to call the book: Drinky Pants: A Quitters Tale, but was talked out of it by more sensible people).
As I wrote I got more and more anxious. Was I really going to tell people this stuff? I’d kept my history as a drinker and drug user private. I have friends that I’ve known for nearly twenty years who have no idea why I don’t drink. Was I really the right person to write a book like this? It’s not like I had some spectacular drinking history that involves dead people, trips to Betty Ford or a habit of turning tricks in truck stop bathrooms.
Upon reflection I'd have to say that one of the reasons I wrote it is that the majority of the people entering recovery (i.e. treatment, twelve step programs, addictions counseling) are young now. The average age of people seeking treatment for addiction has dropped by nearly thirty years in the last thirty years. People are hitting bottom early and, if they’re anything like me, they equate being sober with being bored, and being bored as only marginally preferable to being dead.
The truth is that being sober isn't bad (in fact, it's wonderful), but it takes some getting used to. That was a part that seemed to be missing in a lot of the books about addiction. Many books seemed to end with a sort of "sober ever after" conclusion or they focused on relapses. Both kinds of stories are important and the emphasis on the addiction part makes sense. Lots of addicts and alcoholics describe their “love affairs” with their substance of choice. When one party leaves the relationship, the story is over.
But it’s not, really. Much to my chagrin, I didn’t disappear or get instantly normal or well-adjusted when I quit drinking at twenty. I just got left with my very, very uncomfortable and immature self. Then I had to begin the journey of growing up without drugs and alcohol. I’d been using them as my main coping mechanism since I was thirteen years old. I hadn’t gone a week in seven years without having at least one blackout, or, as I thought of them "personal holiday time". Relentless reality was a bit of an adjustment.
The book is about what it’s like to sober up when you are young and most people your age are just starting to experience drugs and alcohol. I was never of legal drinking age in the U.S. and could only drink in bars in Canada for just over a year.
Young people who are faced with the prospect of sobering up may not have lost all that much "stuff" in the traditional sense because they never had it to begin with. Losing your crappy job at the pet food store is not the same as losing your house and kids. That said, even though teenaged drinkers and druggers don’t get a chance to accumulate much materially, our losses are as real as any others. Passions, self-respect, friends, relationships, trust, hopes for the future. All of it gets damaged or lost.
Nice Recovery is the story of why I started drinking at thirteen, what I loved about it, what it did for me, and ultimately, what it took away. Drugs are part of my story, but for me they were a bit like the bacon-wrapped scallop appetizer before a steak dinner. They made everything a little fancier and more fun, but booze was always my main course.
After I sobered up I slowly discovered that life outside of the bottle is full of possibilities. One thing sobriety gives those of us who pursue it is the opportunity to get back some of what we've lost. Sometimes we also get things we never dared to hope for. For example, I could never have become a writer if I hadn't sobered up. If you ever read any of the deathsuckingly awful poetry I wrote while loaded, you'd agree.
The final third (and my favourite part) of Nice Recovery is based on research and dozens of interviews I did with young people in recovery. The final part of the book explores a variety of recovery options such as treatment centers, twelve step and other programs, as well as therapeutic methods. Those chapters alternate with longer profiles of young people in recovery, all of whom float my inspirational boat. The people I interviewed come from a variety of backgrounds and are recovering from addictions to crystal meth, pot, heroin, ecstasy, pharmaceuticals of all descriptions, as well as alcohol. What I learned from them is that the underlying issues are the same, no matter what you've been into or where it has taken you.
For anyone worried about their role in my memoir (which I’ve begun to pronounce the French way so as to seem more sophisticated) set your mind at ease. I’ve changed all names and combined identities and changed chronologies. The book is not intended to be an expose of anyone other than me. It’s intended to track one person’s journey through adolescent addiction into recovery in the hopes that it might offer solace or at least entertainment to people who are struggling or people who know people who are struggling with addiction. I hope it will also be interesting for people who want to know what recovery's about. (Be forewarned: I was kind of a screw-up in the early days. The title "Nice Recovery" refers to the people I interviewed and the larger goal we seek as opposed to me and how awesome I am.)
I hope the book will be useful. Even though it has given me many a sleepless night (Oh my god, did I really write that? Am I crazy? What will people think? Holy god, my left eye has been twitching for three months!) it has also reminded me that I came from a dark and deeply undignified place. There’s a reason I have continued to be active in recovery for twenty years, a reason I celebrate every person, young or old, who decides to tackle the beast and sober up. It’s because I believe that there’s a nice recovery available for every one of us who genuinely wants one. At least, that's my hope.
Nice Recovery will be out at the end of March and I'll be touring around Canada in late April to promote it.
For anyone who is interested, I have five advance reader's copies to give away to the first five people who email me at andfurthermore@shaw.ca. (Please include your address!) If you are very young you should be advised that the book contains some material that might freak out your parents. You, I suspect, will be able to handle it.
xox
P.S. Other new books I learned about (and can't wait to read) at the BC Bookseller's Breakfast: Kristin butcher's The Last Superhero, Adam Lewis Schroeder's In the Fabled East, Chevy Stevens' Still Missing and Peter Darbyshire's The Warhol Gang.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Ennui as Entertainment
Thanks, Jeff, for introducing me to this...Unhappy Hipster
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Writer's Confessions
Hello all,
For all those who enjoy listening to secrets, worries and other mutterings, tune into Writer's Confessions on Bravo on Thursdays, 8:30 eastern time and 5:30 PST. I'm apparently in three of the episodes. I can't remember what I said, but I'm pretty sure it was too much.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Isn't a pinched expression enough?
With all best wishes for 2010.I rang in the new year (or got close, anyway) wrapped in a heating pad and propped up on an assortment of little yoga blocks to help me deal with what is either a pinched nerve in my neck or a broken collarbone. I don't know which because my doctor has apparently decided to take the month off. I can't tell for sure because there's no answer at her office. So I'd like to remove my doctor's name from the best wishes list. My hope is that she has a good 2010, but not quite the best.
I first attempted to fix my shoulder by lifting weights vigorously. That seemed to be working (my attention shifted over from my discomfort to trying not to drop free weights on my face) but when I left the gym some unseen force decided to take a blowtorch to my shoulder. So I'd like to wish the weights at the gym only a pretty good 2010.
Things were getting serious, so I went online to diagnose my problem. Whew! Thanks be to god for Google! I discovered that I have probably done irreversible damage to myself and am in for a lifetime of pain and surgery at the hands of a drug-addled surgeon who, because of many impending malpractice cases, is the only one who does not have a four year waiting list. Atrophy of the afflicted limb is a near certaintly and so is a lifelong dependence on painkillers. Glad we got that sorted out! I'd like to wish the sufferers of non-responsive pinched nerves the absolute best of 2010 for their bravery in sharing their stories in spite of the veil of pain under which they live. Permanently.
Luckily, the sufferers had some suggestions, including traction devices. I have one on order now. I am trying not to think of the possible complications that could arise from using this. If the worst happens, and someone opens the door and I strangle and drown simultaneously, please sue everyone at Pain and Peril Medical Supplies Depot in Illinois. I'd also like to wish them a pretty good 2010. Or a great one, if the strangulation device works.
My husband assessed the situation and has, with his advanced medical knowledge, determined that I have "bad technique". He didn't mention any specifics, but disdainfully kicked my office chair, which he's never liked. He seems to think the problem is ergonomics. He waved an arm at my desk and computer and pronounced them "all wrong". In recognition of his contribution to my healing process, I'd like to wish him the very best in 2010. The makers of the chair, however, should only have a moderately okay 2010.
Yesterday I got a massage to help and as soon as I lay on the table I began weeping uncontrollably. The pain, you know. I would like to use this occasion to send the disconcerted massage therapist my apologies for getting mascara all over that little pillow thing on her table and to let her know that I am normally quite a stoic person. I'd also like her to google pinched nerves any time she needs a good cry. Wishing her the best of 2010.
So that's basically it. I'd like to lose twelve pounds this year and regain the use of my right arm. Unless otherwise specified, please take a best wishes for you and yours.
P.S. My interview with the lovely Sheryl McKay of North by Northwest will air this Sunday after the 8:00 a.m. news on CBC Radio One. I believe I may have rambled on about Holden Caulfield. For that I apologize.
P.P.S. I'd edit this post, but my nerve is tired.
xox
Sunday, December 27, 2009
A top thing I missed
19. Learning that my friend Fluff once rode a Greyhound across the country while wearing a thong as a bra. A remarkable (though barely comprehensible) achievement!Thursday, December 24, 2009
Top Eighteen Things
1. Quote: Virtue isn't virtue until it slams up against vice. --Detective Frank Pembleton, Homicide, Life on the Streets2. Quote: My goal is to get a goal. --Jes
3. Quote: Are you there, bitch? It's me, Margaret. --Anonymous
4. Best dental descriptor:
“I look in the mirror and go ‘Oh no! More spots, more acne!' And I’m not comfortable being photographed when I’m being myself. I don't like people who tell me I look crap. I think kindness is a good quality, and that doesn't always mean honesty."
“I believe the Aborigines say that every photo takes away a bit of your soul. It’s very odd but I think there’s some truth in that.”
KK (Keira Knightly) when you look in the mirror, the acne shouldn't bother you. The damn pony teefs should. Get those suckers filed down or something. They make me uncomfortable!
-- Michael K. DListed
5. Quote: You have the right to remain silent; although personally, I don't feel remaining silent's all it's cracked up to be... Smoke? --Detective Beau Felton
6. Best Band Names in a YA book: Tennis with Guitars, Plasma Nukes, Baby Batter, Beat Noir-ay, WAGBOG (what a great bunch of guys). Also, best Tennis Technique and Tennis Teacher description: "We hit the ball as hard as we can so it flies over the fence and lands in the bushes outside the tennis area. Then we spend the rest of the period 'looking for the ball.' One day we were goofing off, holding the tennis rackets like guitars and practicing duckwalks and windmills and scissor jumps. I suck at this also, of course, but Sam Hellerman is surprisingly good. The PE teacher in charge of tennis-related activities is named Ms. Rimbaud, which is pronounced Miz Rambo. She looks a little like a frog. If were were actually a frog, she would be highly prized as a source of arrow poison by the natives of South America because of her rich red color." -- King Dork by Frank Portman
7. Quote: Every second thing Steph says.
8. Felt Army by Jen Waters of Shush Creations, especially "Susan", who "enjoys gardening, making sarcastic comments and is most comfortable in muumuus."
9. Best sending of cool pictures and book recommendations and links and so forth due to infallible taste: Felicia Quon
10. Best chicken pot pie recipe: Scott Banta.
Chicken pot pie ( pot pie au poulet)
serves four
2 1/4 cups chick.stock
1/4 cup white wine
2 lbs chicken breast or thigh (boneless skinless)
2 cups green beans, 1" pieces
2 carrots, sliced
1 stalk celery, sliced
5 slices bacon, crumbled
2 tbsp oil
2 small onions, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup flour
1 tbsp tarragon, chopped
1/2 tsp sherry vinegar ?
package of puffed pastry
1 egg yolk w/ 1 tbsp water for egg wash
- Bring wine (or substitute) and stock to boil, add chicken and simmer til done. Set aside.
- Add beans, carrots, and celery to stock, simmer until tender. Set aside and reserve stock.
- Fry bacon, set aside and drain off all but a tbsp. of fat from pan.
- Add onion and garlic to pan, saute until golden.
- Stir in flour and tarragon and cook for one minute until crumbly.
- Strain stock into pan and whisk smooth.
- Simmer until mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Add vinegar and remove from heat.
- Salt and pepper to taste.
- Cut chicken into 1/2' pieces and add to stock along with crumbled bacon and veg's. Mix together and refrigerate til completely cool.
- Divide this among four french onion soup bowls.
- Roll out pastry and cut into rounds slighly larger than tops of bowls. Fold edges of pastry down onto rim of bowl and slash so steam can escape.
- Brush with egg wash, put in 400* oven ( on a cookie sheet to catch drips ) until tops are golden, about 25 min.
11. Best new social club: The Lucky Bitches. With thanks to their official sponsors: Lids.
12. Best purveyor of murky, indeterminate accents and taker and star of thousands upon thousands of fishing pictures (these are only a tiny fraction of the available options): James Waring
13. Best Awards Ceremony Companion: Megan McDiarmid at the Edgars
14. Best unpaid editor of my work: Dr. Bill Juby
15. Best (and only) thing I knit this year
16. Best new kid: Nathaniel
17. Best Post-op Recovery in a White and Brown Dog: Frank Juby-Waring
18. Quote: Either it's murder or this library has a very strict return policy. --Detective Steve Crosetti
Merry Christmas to one and all. You should all be on this list, and so should about a million other things, but I have run out of blogging steam.
xox
Susan
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thanks, Frank
I love getting up at 5:00 a.m., 5:30 and 5:50 for a dog who feigns stomach upset but secretly just wants to chase deer.Oh well, at least I'm up and hard at work and looking as fresh as someone who was awoken multiple times on fraudulent premises. I'm going to let it go this time because Frank agreed to star in the Christmas card again. If we don't get one to you, here's what it looks like. If you look very carefully, you may see a dog in this image. He's very well hidden. Due to his camo. Really, only the whites of his eyes give away his position.
What is that I hear behind me? I believe that's the peaceful sound of Frank snoring. He did have a very tiring morning...
Now, with no sort of graceful transition into a new subject, do you know who is cool? Lauren Mechling is. Do you know what's cool? The trailer for her long-awaited new book!
On the less cool front, Susin Nielson (who was the show runner for Alice, I Think, as well a writer on the first DeGrassi Jr. High and a creator of the wonderful Robson Arms)has just been exposed to the downside of writing for younger readers. Her book Word Nerd is sweet, funny and poignant and emotionally astute. I'm fairly sure it's not learning kids how to swear, though. Yeesh. Bravo to the librarian and Meredith Tutching of the OLA for not caving in to pressure to sanitize the books chosen for the Forest of Reading awards. If books are going to remain relevant to younger readers, they have to reflect the real world, at least a little bit. I think younger readers can handle a few milder than mild swears (and is "boner" a swear? really?) in book about what it means to be an overprotected kid. Susin's new book, Dear George Clooney: Please Marry My Mom is a terrific charmer and will be out soon. Look for it.
Now I must do a lot of work in a short time so I can return to trying out recipes in the holiday edition of Bon Appetit, including items like this little gem, which was easy and delicious, though because of platter size constrictions, I had to make several little yule stumps. I'm going to give them out to the various developers wreaking havoc around this neighborhood. I also plan to attempt the meringue mushrooms too. I can only guess at what they'll look like nestled amongst the stumps... Probably not like this:
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
What came before
Sometimes I wonder...
What people are thinking...
When they buy homes...
In new subdivisions.
After all,
There are hundreds just like them already for sale in this town.
Perhaps every one should come with a picture of what was there before mounted on the wall.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Cover of a Cover
I love it when people use my books as a starting point to make their own art. I've posted little videos from the Alice books and reader-created trailers for Getting the Girl. Here's a cool cover I've been meaning to post for months:
Thanks, Summer at The Summer!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
How some people secretly see their horses...
Thanks to Felicia for sending me these.
Monday, October 26, 2009
White Pines!
I'd like to show some of my most special dance moves to the OLA for nominating Getting the Girl for the 2010 White Pine Award!Well, maybe I'll just dedicate this to them!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The Good News and the Failure Pile
Did I mention that the lovely new mass market edition of Another Kind of Cowboy is now available?
And did I mention that I had dental surgery last week and have been on a soft food diet for six days? At first I thought I might starve (soup is nice, but it's not really food), but then I discovered my old friend, Alphagetti, as well as ice cream cups and whipped potatoes with butter. So instead of losing weight, as I'd feared, I'm packing it on like I'm in training for the next heavy-weight bout. And did I mention that even though I've perfected perhaps the most high calorie, low effort diet ever, I'm bitter and ill-at-ease and it's all because I miss chips? All true. Which reminds me that if you haven't heard Patton Oswalt's riff on KFC's bowls, you must. (Plenty 'o swearing: be forewarned.)
Failure pile in a sadness bowl. I'll take one of those. Also, in the concert version of this, he refers to the mound as a "hillock" and that makes the whole bit even better.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Mock me if you must...
but at least be funny about it.File under: how did I miss this one?
I have a book crush on King Dork. I'm only 50-odd pages in, so things may sour. But as of now, it's the real thing. Why? Well, there's this:
"Oh, wait. I should mention that Catcher in the Rye is this book from the fifties. It's every teacher's favorite book. The main guy is kind of a misfit kid superhero named Holden Caulfield. For teachers, he is the ultimate guy, a real dreamboat. They love him to pieces. They all want to have sex with him and with the book's author, too, and they'd probably even try to do it with the book itself if they could figure out a way to go about it. It changed their lives when they were young. As kids, they carried it with them everywhere they went. They solemnly resolved that, when they grew up, they would dedicate their lives to spreading The Word.
It's kind of like a cult.
They live for making you read it. When you do read it you can feel them all standing behind you in a semicircle wearing black robes with hoods, holding candles. They're chanting "Holden, Holden, Holden..." And they're looking over your shoulder with these expectant smiles, wishing they were the ones discovering the earth-shattering joys of The Catcher in the Rye for the very first time.
Too late, man. I mean, I've been around the Catcher in the Rye block. I've been forced to read it like three hundred times, and don't tell anyone but I think it sucks."
Oh, Frank Portman of the Mr. T Experience. You have done me in two hundred times in fifty-odd pages. Oh, and apparently King Dork is being turned into a movie that will be released in 2011. Please let the film not be ruinous, the way the movie version of I Love You, Beth Cooper apparently is. I haven't watched the Beth Cooper movie. I'm far too attached to the book.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Consumer Reports
Hello, sad, dusty little blog!I expect you're accustomed to neglect by now. That's probably a good thing. Keep the expectations low. That's my strategy for avoiding disappointment and it has never let me down.
Take my approach to retail, for instance. I don't expect sales people to be cheery or helpful. I don't expect cashiers to be fast. I was certainly none of those things. My attitude toward the customers who came into my spheres of retail (video store, yarn sales, kichen supplies) veered between openly hostile to insultingly apathetic. So I'm always surprised when service is good.
I would now like to present the award for Surprisingly Excellent Service to the staff at Van Isle Videos. Not only is the store comfortingly non-fancy (baby poop coloured carpets, buckets located at strategic locations to catch drips from low-hovering ceiling) it also has the best staff in Nanaimo. First, there was the guy who was debonair in his brisk efficiency when he went to pull DVDs to fill the empty cases. He nearly danced back there behind the counter. He performed this little bow-salute-type gesture when handing over your discs. It always made my day. He cared. Or at least gave the impression he did. Sometimes I went in and rented something just to get that bow.
He has gone onto be dashing to customers elsewhere (I presume) but the rest of the staff is just as excellent. They don't do the "use the customer's name" trick, which always comes off phony, but they nod at you if you've rented something half decent and that's worth the price of a rental for me. Several of them appreciate Homicide (the show, not the act). Again, that makes them okay with me. (Quick interruption for a quote: Homicide doesn't need metaphors. Homicide just is. Detective Frank Pembleton. Quote over.) The staff at Van Isle never seem bitter when they're trying to have a smoke out front and I interrupt them. Again, I could have used their good example when I was a chain smoking video store youth employee. Some of them have interesting yet strangely tasteful piercings that I've never seen before, which is an added bonus.
Overall, I always leave Van Isle feeling better about life and the world. Plus, they get in all the good TV shows and have a huge section of British movies.
On the other side, I'd like to present the Totally Crap Award to the new Mega Super Duper Outdoor Store on the Old Island Highway. I was riding my bike by and thought I'd stop in and see what they had to offer. I had my purse/messenger bag around my shoulder. I was confronted at the entrance by two staff members who demanded my bag (and tried to force flyers on me). This was at the grand opening. Wow. Delightful welcome, Mega Store! I drew myself up into one of my patented outraged huffs and marched right back outside. I may have muttered something that didn't make sense as I went.
Mega Super Duper Outdoor Store: if you can afford to build and staff a half acre enterprise, surely you can afford some cameras and security gates and not subject customers to search and seizure before they even get through the door. Nothing about being treated like a thief makes me feel like spending money. In conclusion, bite me Outdoor Store. I'll keep getting my outdoor-type gifts for Jim (who is still calling himself Dmitry) and my camping supplies for Lucky Bitches Camping Extravaganzas at Canadian Tire. They have that fake money that's fun to play with and tired, irritable staff who clearly don't care. But nobody at The Tire messes with my purse! (Oh, and if you're looking for fishing or (god forbid!) hunting (gak) supplies, try Gone Fishin'.
P.S. The new book, Republic of Dirt , has found a fabulous publisher and editor in the U.S. As soon as I have details on the publication date, I'll put them here, on the dusty, sad blog.
xoxo
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Sigh.
Ride of the year and maybe of the decade. What a horse! What a rider! Thanks, Angela, for the link...
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Terrific blog post about reviewing and reader response
Shannon Hale opens an important discussion on how we evaluate books: squeetus blogJohn Green responds with his thoughts: sparksflyup
Nicely put on both fronts. Also had the effect of making me think I should write about something more than mild stomach upsets on this blog.
On that note, I am catsitting our neighbor's feline. His name is Craster. I'm told he's keen to be in one of my books. He'd like to be cast as the cat. All has gone well up to this point but now he is charging around my studio like he's gone insane. He's careening off walls and leaping over my computer and rolling around on the couch and flying off the stairs and skidding across my desk, scattering papers as he goes. Is this normal? He's kind of elderly and I promise I didn't put anything spicy near his rear end.
He's also making funny "rowrrrr"-ish noises. But he looks happy enough.
If I review Crasty's behaviour for his owners, I think I will do so with more of a New Yorker-style discussion as opposed to a starred review. I think they will appreciate the texture and doing so will allow me to frame my comments within the lens of my own lack of cat exposure.
xoxo
P.S. It's forty seconds later and now he's dozing peacefully in a sunbeam.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Trailer! Award Nomination! Plus, Save the Libraries!
Thanks to the Helen Ruffin Reading Bowl Book Club, there is a book trailer for Getting the Girl! Love that music...Many thanks to the James Cook Book Award committee for choosing Another Kind of Cowboy as one of the shortlist titles. The winner was The Last Exit to Normal by Micheal Harmon. Congratulations to the other shortlisted titles:
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
No Choirboy: Murder, Violence and Teenagers on Death Row by Susan Kuklin
Red Glass by Laura Resau
The James Cook Award for diversity in teen literature was created in 2006 in honor of Ohio librarian James Cook. The James Cook Book Award is awarded to the book that promotes and celebrates cultural, ethnic, or social diversity; features a teen as one of the main characters; demonstrates excellence in writing; promotes cultural, ethnic, or social diversity; and has a wide appeal to a teen audience.
The award was going to be announced at the Ohio Library Council Convention and Expo in October, but due to library funding statewide the convention has been cancelled. Call me biased, but it seems that in rough economic times, libraries are more important than ever. More people use the library when money is tight and books, especially free ones, provide a welcome comfort during any crisis.
Here in B.C. our premier, who has previously billed himself as passionately pro-literacy, has plans to slash B.C. library budgets. In fact, BC libraries have not yet received their operating grants for 2009.
Last year I was writer in residence at Vancouver Island Regional Library and at Greater Victoria Public Library. I couldn't help but notice that librarians and other library staff work unbelievably hard and that libraries are astonishingly busy. I gave writing and publishing workshops in communities all over Vancouver Island and every library I visited was bustling, no matter what time I went. Many librarians seem to have multiple jobs in addition to what you and I might consider "librarian-ing". Adding budget shortfalls to the pressures they face would be a travesty.
I've written my letters and signed petitions. If you care about maintaining access to free books (a key element of any democracy worth its salt), free internet, and the mental, physical and financial health of librarians and library staff, I encourage you to do the same.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
A few outtakes from my last riding lesson
(When they wrote "Lorenzo" they really meant Susan. Also, I was doing something different with my hair that day.)
Then, once I was warmed up, Selena asked us to kick it up a notch...
Friday, August 14, 2009
Feuds and attitudes
A brief history of the summer thus far.This will be badly spelled and not long because I have to go to a baby shower in a few minutes.
Went camping with husband, who has taken to calling himself Dmitry. I don't know why. Went on long walks and read two Stuart Woods books.
Worked on revisions to memoir-y non-fiction. Tried to tell myself it will never be read by anyone but me. When had to admit that it will probably be read by at least a few people developed tic over left eye that lasted two full weeks. Even my bionic powers of denial couldn't calm twitch down. It finally stopped, probably because the muscle burned itself out.
Worked on courses I'll be teaching in the fall. No smartass remarks available on that topic for professional reasons.
Read a third Stuart Woods book. Was charmed by how everyone in Stuart's world has a plane, pretty much.
Went camping. Learned how to text. I know. Pathetic. (But so handy!)
Ate some of the minuscule home-grown crops and picked three sweet pea flowers. Our Swiss chard is nicer than average and particularly good tossed with new potatoes and fresh dill.
Swam. Often.
Read another Stuart Woods book. Began to feel savagely poor.
Taught the writing for children and young adults course at UBC. Had wonderful students and a great week. Avoided death by vehicular homicide approximately ten times each day during commute to and from university. Vancouver still the reigning capital of crap drivers.
Had small feud with someone named "Library Lady". So small I don't think she knew it was happening. She used the Internet to express ill will toward me and my career. I complained bitterly on my facebook page. If the feud had been conducted in a teapot, it would barely have raised the water level, never mind slopped over the side. Sigh. I'm no Eminem. And L.L. is no Mariah.
Thought about blogging. Didn't.
Continued prepping courses for the fall. Rather enjoyed it.
Worked on memoir while holding down resurgent tic. With my finger.
Got a bad complexion from thinking about life and career. Wonder if L.L. may be right. Realize poor complexion may also result from eating many bags of Jalapeno Cheese Puffs while watching True Blood, Season 1. Began pestering Robyn Harding with all my insights into the series, even though she never asked what I thought. Particularly focused on Lafayette, who is my new gay, prostitute, drug-dealing, short order cook, construction worker boyfriend (I'm only on season one. He may get some other jobs in season two). I think what I like about him is that he's so busy. He makes me feel quite chill by comparison.
Read still more Stuart Woods books. Felt acutely depressed that I will probably never have a plane or an armoured Mercedes. On the plus side, hardly anyone I know or meet gets murdered within minutes of making my acquaintance.
Okay. Off to baby shower.
P.S. Three weeks left in my summer. Who knows how many more Stuart Woods books I can get through and what discontents I can develop as a result! I wish you all a wonderful rest of August. Even you, L.L.