tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327432502024-03-07T00:04:32.199-07:00Kash's Book CornerMusings on books and the book business by an opinionated, somewhat cynical, yet optimistic bookseller.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.comBlogger112125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-32421717847664574312010-11-28T16:17:00.007-07:002010-11-28T17:33:12.436-07:00The Absurdity of Twain FeverMark Twain is the hottest author in America right now. The Boulder Book Store along with just about every other bookseller in America can barely keep ahead of the demand for the recently released 738-<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK7zGvEErD0ttcE_Sq-O-HXwMM2Z-hxt1H-QGzwgLzPxAoeL6fyUSb1IC70vTx3XNEwkvVSZMRYyaQnWU2UB9aIzdlcO8zljzoeDDOY8K1q3pzX5ELQ1aS9NeD6kqqH8ZGKK50w/s1600/Twain.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 278px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544755691582474674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK7zGvEErD0ttcE_Sq-O-HXwMM2Z-hxt1H-QGzwgLzPxAoeL6fyUSb1IC70vTx3XNEwkvVSZMRYyaQnWU2UB9aIzdlcO8zljzoeDDOY8K1q3pzX5ELQ1aS9NeD6kqqH8ZGKK50w/s400/Twain.jpg" /></a>page <em>Autobiography of Mark Twain. </em>The reason the book is in short supply is that no one in their right mind saw this book taking off like it has. The University of California Press, which published a well-researched, finely edited, fairly academic book is simply not equipped to deal with a bestseller of this magnitude.<br /><br />They shouldn't have to worry about this problem; although I'm sure they are happy to have such a profitable concern. Observing the demand for this book, it seems to be sheer madness and a herd mentality that is driving the Mark Twain frenzy. People are buying this book who haven't glanced at Twain since they were forced to read him in high school or college. My guess is that many copies of the <em>Autobiography</em> now in the hands of gleeful customers will end up, after great disappointment, flooding back into the bookstore in 2011 as forgotten used tomes.<br /><br />I love Mark Twain's <em>The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. </em>It's a book that I read in high school and college and returned to for a third time about a decade ago. I've never been disappointed with Huck, and each reading has yielded more rewards and a greater admiration for Twain. My 12th grade English teacher introduced the book as the greatest novel in American history. To this day, I wouldn't quibble with that. (By the way, she considered William Faulkner the greatest American fiction writer and James Joyce the greatest writer of fiction in English. I'm not sure I consider <em>Finnegan's Wake</em> English, but that's besides the point.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0mtL2AD8afegNlY1ti71YnPjys81BB8g_cu01kOLqVFY1modvWzhTFfzddS-72KSLnR3uxjh0LcmE9FBoEhO-hzjB-4IodVgE2m_TZjko7yiYTz2PP0ujQ81Ix3JlTX2_gZ-yQ/s1600/Twain+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 198px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544756062727335314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0mtL2AD8afegNlY1ti71YnPjys81BB8g_cu01kOLqVFY1modvWzhTFfzddS-72KSLnR3uxjh0LcmE9FBoEhO-hzjB-4IodVgE2m_TZjko7yiYTz2PP0ujQ81Ix3JlTX2_gZ-yQ/s320/Twain+2.jpg" /></a><br />The <em>Autobiography of Mark Twain </em>is no Huck Finn. Not by a long shot. Nearly 500 pages of the 4-pound book is either unreadable doggerel composed of false starts and academic self-aggrandizement or notes and appendices that only a grad student would ever need to dive into.<br /><br /><em>Esquire</em> did a great <a href="http://www.esquire.com/the-side/book-review/mark-twain-autobiography-summary">break down on how to read the book in one day </a>that serves to highlight the book's shortcomings more than anything else.<br /><br />In Adam Gopnik's <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2010/11/29/101129crat_atlarge_gopnik">insightful piece </a>in <em>The New Yorker's</em> November 29th edition, he shows how the book's main two selling points aren't really that impressive. The first is that the manuscript was suppressed for 100 years on Twain's wishes. Twain wanted to make sure that everyone he mentioned in the book was dead by the time it was publicly disseminated. The problem with this according to Gopnik is that only 5% of the new volume actually contains unpublished Twain material. His autobiography has been published three previous times, and this one doesn't add that much. The other selling point is that readers are getting a truly authentic view of Twain's life. However, Gopnik notes that Twain gave up on candor early into the writing process.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtV7QTf6VNfN0f56vaqFSZ28Zc-q93zR1jqHCIZBmhDQ-Lhp8YsCzoR-0tOASyTx7ljNpEhgr_Q9qlZ7TaKUDQLDY3fJT59PstTsYzGsQPH1NeLSTzv07mSMTg9tOxQ_5fakhdIg/s1600/Twain+3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 201px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544756068663138386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtV7QTf6VNfN0f56vaqFSZ28Zc-q93zR1jqHCIZBmhDQ-Lhp8YsCzoR-0tOASyTx7ljNpEhgr_Q9qlZ7TaKUDQLDY3fJT59PstTsYzGsQPH1NeLSTzv07mSMTg9tOxQ_5fakhdIg/s320/Twain+3.jpg" /></a><br />Gopnik's conclusion on the Twain volume: "A book that had been a disjointed and largely baffling bore emerges now as a disjointed and largely baffling bore."<br /><br />Of course there will be some true Twain devotees that will relish every fresh word and enjoy rereading some of the other material in here. But enough true admirers to push the book to the top spot on all the bestseller lists? No, no, no. Most of those books are going to people who will put the book on their shelf and perhaps read a page or two from it. They'll have just enough to quote at a New Year's Day party if the topic comes up. It will be gathering dust by Martin Luther King Day.<br /><br />If you want a memoir that will bring a fresh perspective from an entertaining raconteur, I'd humbly suggest a copy of <em>Life </em>by Keith Richards. Oh yeah, there is no problem getting copies of it. Hachette rightfully expected that the Rolling Stone who remembers it all would produce a bestseller that no one would consider a bore.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-45866623047945085642010-11-27T10:01:00.005-07:002010-11-27T10:29:45.039-07:00Christmas Season is a Bear<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOCRfogIvkpAEKUHtn2ebvkSRdV81rw31swH9WlBUBWy8hnrFm3x5W9VIyPm8u6epwNTx8eGqgh_xOpiYpNxanHe4F4RbxyVp6Dwkd0BThra4BI9jYrthBv7g4CvxuyDTyXz2WA/s1600/Old+Bear.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544280797314925122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOCRfogIvkpAEKUHtn2ebvkSRdV81rw31swH9WlBUBWy8hnrFm3x5W9VIyPm8u6epwNTx8eGqgh_xOpiYpNxanHe4F4RbxyVp6Dwkd0BThra4BI9jYrthBv7g4CvxuyDTyXz2WA/s400/Old+Bear.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>This is my favorite time of year to be a bookseller. The hours are long, the store is crowded and it can be frustrating when everyone wants the same book because they heard about it on NPR. However, those minor complaints are outweighed by the fact that the store is packed with people that want books. Men, women and children that value the experience of reading and that are open to recommendations and book conversations.</div><br /><div></div><div>My favorite moment of Black Friday came towards the end of the day. A middle age woman from Chicago came into the store with her two college-age daughters. The woman was dressed nicely in an expensive knee-length black coat and silver earrings and she was all business. She approached the counter and asked me where she could find a book featured in the window.</div><br /><div>"Which book do you want?" I asked.</div><div></div><br /><div>"I don't know the title. It's in your window with the Christmas books. It's about an old bear."</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IyxqTXQKXKGdxCFI67060lzG1Z6YyGVQVqts9oZEQCqbV656z668htwbe4HnsbthKcBZiiMPyqNRuojPwvILj6_i7CgvlMlk5S9l6O_6UfcK0uLlpvHBiam8ggz3SIurHu5eyg/s1600/Old+Bear+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544280972741241906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IyxqTXQKXKGdxCFI67060lzG1Z6YyGVQVqts9oZEQCqbV656z668htwbe4HnsbthKcBZiiMPyqNRuojPwvILj6_i7CgvlMlk5S9l6O_6UfcK0uLlpvHBiam8ggz3SIurHu5eyg/s400/Old+Bear+2.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Instantly, I knew she was referring to Olivier Dunrea's <em>Old Bear and His Cub. </em>Dunrea's picture book came out just two weeks ago and already is a classic. His simple but finely drawn pictures and elegant story of a loving old bear keeping his cub safe and secure resonates in a way that brand new books rarely do. It's as if you've known this tale and illustrations since your own childhood. </div><div></div><br /><div>I led the woman back to the children's room and pulled the book out of the dump and placed it in her hands. "It's a wonderful book," I said.</div><div></div><br /><div>"We'll see," she said holding the book and gazing at its delightful cover. "If it makes me tear up by the end, I'll know it's worth buying."</div><div></div><br /><div>I left her and her daughters with the book without much hope that we'd get the sale. She did not look like a woman who would ever cry in public. I returned to the front counter trolling for another customer. A few minutes later I was putting a book on hold when I passed my Chicago customer still standing where I left her.</div><div></div><br /><div>"Well, did the <em>Old Bear and His Cub </em>do the trick?"</div><div></div><br /><div>She looked up at me and her steely eyes were filled with water and her face was blushed red. Her daughters stood behind her and rolled their dry eyes. She dabbed a tissue to her eyes and simply said, "I'm going to buy the book."<em> </em></div><br /><div><em></em></div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-55553577100334487732010-11-11T21:02:00.007-07:002010-11-11T21:32:39.547-07:00ReGenesis: God is MovementHere's a reprint from the Boulder Weekly of my review of <em>ReGenesis, </em>the concluding volume of Robert Dresner's <em>The Astral Imperative</em> trilogy. I met Dresner when he was painting my house and we began an interesting relationship that was detailed in <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2009/02/self-published-man.html">my review of his first book</a>. It was one of my most commented upon blog entries and now nearly two years later peopl<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOnN9JgUj2DX5avSGtrFugoCACv6PC2DTfesr_InSwzzNsTP68hSfiLW1-qSv7INkN5lDhTltV6rKpNMT_dv5Dx0itFC4tkfwMnD7EHJdfCb-d2r5xyfo3GVaDiq3Ra7VIJs9BQ/s1600/dream.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 165px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538514816196341490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOnN9JgUj2DX5avSGtrFugoCACv6PC2DTfesr_InSwzzNsTP68hSfiLW1-qSv7INkN5lDhTltV6rKpNMT_dv5Dx0itFC4tkfwMnD7EHJdfCb-d2r5xyfo3GVaDiq3Ra7VIJs9BQ/s400/dream.jpg" /></a>e still ask me about it. The focus of that article was largely on Dresner's decision to self publish and his near misses with New York publishers.<br /><br /><br />In my <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2009/09/even-on-mars-we-are-who-we-are.html">review of the second book </a>, I did not mention that Dresner was self publishing the book and the same holds true in this review. It seems less relevent now than it did two years ago that Dresner decided to publish the books on his own. We sell self published, or what I like to call quasi-published books every day at the Boulder Book Store. These quasi-published books are ones from presses that are very small and are often just publishing their authors books on demand. Some of our best events come from the ranks of Independently published authors and our customers don't seem to make distinctions between major publishers, small publishers and independent publishers as long as they enjoy the work and get to meet the author.<br /><br /><br />Personally, I still believe strongly in the publishing houses and the work that they do. I'd love to see Dresner get picked up for a few reasons. I'd be interested to see how a great science fiction editor would polish his work. I also think his books have something meaningful to say and that a large press could give them the distribution that they deserve.<br /><br /><br /><br />Here's the review:<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Yuri Popovich sits silently in the lotus position on Mars, his heart registering just one beat a minute, as Robert Dresner’s thought-provoking novel <em>ReGenesis</em> opens. P<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXQJzGp8rZVnoUFrf26BuRdU03hFo3c3NhIMuj6sBRszu6o_8Ur0r2D0D4KKJr1BWUBAlXq1qW7F_gjL1xVRB835QI-mUq4lM6WYoFhEVMFaki0pCns1-mNbVxLJ8-SVXU6mG3g/s1600/ReGenesis.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 92px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 140px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538510550410652802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXQJzGp8rZVnoUFrf26BuRdU03hFo3c3NhIMuj6sBRszu6o_8Ur0r2D0D4KKJr1BWUBAlXq1qW7F_gjL1xVRB835QI-mUq4lM6WYoFhEVMFaki0pCns1-mNbVxLJ8-SVXU6mG3g/s400/ReGenesis.jpg" /></a>opovich, a lone survivor of the original mission to Mars, has completely retreated into himself and has sat in his seemingly unconscious state in a cave for 12 years as new settlers come and gawk at him.</div><br /><div>In a moment of desperation, another astronaut, Richard, who has been stranded on Mars for over a decade and is feared and ostracized by the other colonists, pleads with the meditating man to help him save the petty, earth-centered colonists from themselves. He doesn’t expect an answer but he gets one. Yuri simply states, “I am here.” </div><div><br />Richard is startled. He asks, “What happened to you Yuri? Where did you go? Tell me, please, if you can. I need to know. What did you see?”</div><div><br />Yuri’s answer is simple, but sets up the fantastic plot to this concluding book in Dresner’s Astral Imperative trilogy. “God. I saw God.”</div><div><br />The questions of the existence of God and the possibility of another level of consciousness permeates this novel set in 2053 simply because our existence on Earth has become so tenuous and our means of escape so limited. Environmental catastrophes combined with rampant nationalism and runaway technology has threatened the viability of the human race. Depending on the characters point of view and to some extent the readers, Yuri is either a savior or a charlatan. </div><div><br />“Yuri was the one who had to bear witness on our human existence,” Dresener said. “He inhabits different realms and realities. Is he delusional? Do you believe him or don’t you? What happened to Yuri is not out of the realm of human experience. In my travels to India I met people like that.”</div><div><br />The Yuri of the first two books did not seem a likely character for enlightenment. An astrobiologist by training and a world renowned poet, he spent much of his time involved in all too human entanglements on the ship to Mars and on the Red planet’s primitive space station. His conversion to a spiritual state did not occur until a battle between the colonists broke out at the end of the second book. Slowly, Yuri begins to reveal to the other characters just what he has seen during his twelve-year sojourn communing with the divine. </div><div><br />“I’ve seen so much; I’ve lived so many lives and still live them. I’ve seen so much violence between beings, between countries, between worlds, between entire solar systems – even galaxies that demand more space to expand at the expense of other galaxies. I’ve seen suns that are jealous of one another’s light.”</div><div><br />Gradually, some of the colonists’ curiosity turns to revulsion as they learn just how radical Yuri’s visions were and just what they may mean for their own existence. Is he a madman or a prophet? It’s a question that has been asked for centuries on Earth. It’s not an easy question for the reader when we hear Yuri get to the base of his creed. </div><div><br />“God is movement. God is evolution. God is war. God is peace. God is raping and killing children. God is suffering for the sins of other beings in this life and in other lives, and dying for them….And the greatest sin of all is when we are consigned to see the half of it, when the light of creation is divided into good and evil, and right and wrong, between what is divine and not divine, when we choose sides instead of choosing life when your very lives are at stake.”</div><div><br />For Yuri, the highest purpose of God is simply survival. Nothing truly dies. Our energy must be put into the effort to survive. Of course for much of the novel the very continuance of the human race is in doubt.</div><div><br />“Implicit in the movement to destruction is the will to survive,” Dresner said. “So far humanity by the narrowest sliver has moved ahead on the evolutionary scale. We always choose to live even if we aren’t conscious of how we make that choice.” </div><div><br />Dresner’s Earth is still recognizable with a few tweaks. Nationalism, especially a powerful Russia and China, still dominate the political landscape despite the fact that most of the world’s problems transcend geographic borders. Our worst fears of global warming won’t prepare us for his vision of 2053 where terrible earthquakes and fierce storms have visited the globe. Many parts of the world experience perpetual summer while Western Europe and the East Coast remain mired in deep winter conditions all the way into May. Things are degrading so quickly that even the man on the moon can see our problems. </div><div><br />“The view of Earth from moon orbit was not as beautiful as it once was because of the smoke bellowing out of Australia and Africa, which clung to passing clouds and turned them gray,” Dresner writes. </div><div><br />Even simple conversations in the future are changing in subtle ways with the emergence of techno-glasses. These eyeglasses act as computer screens as well as communication and recording devices. They make today’s laptops, Ipods and Bluetooth headsets seem downright clumsy and unobtrusive. A sense that technology will continue to march on producing everyday gadgets on the one hand and potentially destroying the human race on the other imbues this novel with a sense of fatalism. </div><div><br />“Like it or not the next evolutionary step will be bio-technology,” Dresner said. “Our physiological beings will be married to tech expertise. That’s what can take us out of the solar system. A lot of the story is predicated on whether we are prepared for that evolution.”</div><div><br />On Earth one charismatic man, Fritz Kreiger, believes that we are not ready to make the evolutionary leap into space. After reaching prominence during the first manned mission to Mars as an opponent to the program, he disappeared during the intervening years. The awakening of Yuri, an event that has as many repercussions on Earth as on Mars, forces Krieger out of his anonymous life and back into the forefront of the battle to save mankind.</div><div><br />Krieger visits the man who helped create the powerful Dream Machine that is housed on the Mars colony. The Dream Machine started as a simulated holographic game in the first novel, but has now achieved sentience and has either communed with the divine or been hijacked by an alien intelligence. As Yuri and the Dream Machine set off from Mars to return to Earth, tensions build between nations vying for control of the all powerful computer. It is Krieger, one of Dresner’s most balanced and finely drawn characters, that tries to take the lead in the response.</div><div><br />The question of just who Yuri is becomes paramount. In a world that is even more skeptical and cynical than ours it is certainly hard to accept Yuri at his word as he speeds towards Earth with something more powerful than all the bombs on the planet. The Dream Machine contains the power to both destroy and save humanity.</div><div><br />“We don’t have seers. We are such a regimented culture that we are losing our seers,” Dresner said. “Sometimes the greatest transformations of enlightened beings are discovered at the bottom of despair. How you get to that bottom on Prozac or Ritalin? We are denying humanity the full range of experience. When you have hooded instincts and padded senses, it is easy to get blind.” </div><div><br />Perhaps as readers contemplate some the technological, ecological and spiritual issues that Dresner raises in ReGenesis, they will begin to see just a little more clearly into the future. </div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-38652155565494394752010-04-26T10:33:00.009-06:002010-04-26T11:02:45.144-06:00Hellhound on His TrailLast weekend I had the pleasure of seeing Hampton Sides, the author of Hellhound on His Trail, in Sante Fe at a bookseller lunch. Before the meal, I had no intention of reading Sides' account of Martin Luther King's assassination. Most nonfiction books I absorb through reviews, New Yorker pieces, N<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eMmLoyZinUt202-LP-KIFxidg1DzhQwWW9VMXdWhcBrq4_973UraX66jqApaL-2_EoLn0bSYqSkmqTVk_eLoC-bMwZAr-Sr8aocZavdPL-63Ef8uW69XDvTUxVIQAUxk4QwxIw/s1600/Hellhound.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eMmLoyZinUt202-LP-KIFxidg1DzhQwWW9VMXdWhcBrq4_973UraX66jqApaL-2_EoLn0bSYqSkmqTVk_eLoC-bMwZAr-Sr8aocZavdPL-63Ef8uW69XDvTUxVIQAUxk4QwxIw/s400/Hellhound.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464486439586203602" border="0" /></a>PR and dinner table conversations.<br /><br />I figured Hellhound would be no different. It was probably just another magazine article extended to a full-length book. Why read 400 pages when a well-written review would give me all the nefarious details of James Earl Ray's horrendous deed? After Sides' talk, I couldn't resist dipping into the book despite my natural aversion to true crime.<br /><br />Eight days and several sleep deprived nights later, I finished the book and sure am thankful that Sides convinced me to pick it up. His tale of James Earl Ray's exploits starting with his 1967 jail break and ending with his abbreviated escape 10 years later is meticulously detailed, unrelentingly suspenseful and magnificently written.<br /><br />Ray emerges as one bizarre, hateful guy. In the months leading up to the assassination, he takes dance lessons, goes to bartending school, enrolls in a locksmithing correspondence course and dabbles with the idea of making pornography. In a goodwill mission, he also drives from Los Angeles to New Orleans to retrieve two children for a girlfriend. He's also a master of aliases. He picks up and drops off a half dozen names throughout his fugitive days.<br /><br />Sides said in his talk that because of these aliases, he didn't refer to Ray by his true name until after page 300 of the book. I thought this was a bit gimmicky when he mentioned it, but was surprised that the sleight of hand works. First Ray is known by his prison number, then by his main pre-assassination alias of Eric Starvo Galt and, finally, as Ramon Sneyd. It isn't until the FBI sifts through these various names and learns the true identity of the killer that Sides uses Ray's name.<br /><br />When Sneyd is caught in London, two months after the assassination, he firmly denies being James Earl Ray. The most humorous moment of the book is when Sneyd asks to call his brother -- Jerry Ray. He didn't see anything contradictory in this. He had operated in more than one reality for so long that it didn't occur to him that he'd basically confessed.<br /><br />The final months of King's life are vividly recreated. Sides uses mostly secondary sources for these details, relying on Ralph Abernathy's 1989 memoir, <span style="font-style: italic;">And the Walls Came Tumbling Down</span>, and Andrew Young's book on the Civil Rights movement, <span style="font-style: italic;">An Easy Burden</span>. He gives us a powerful narrative of a leader on the run. King was running from the recriminations of the FBI (they knew he had mistresses and were perhaps goading him to kill himself), the black power movement that wanted him to move aside so the revolution could really start and, finally, the knowledge that somewhere out there a killer probably lurked.<br /><br />Sides also did some primary research - traveling to several of the places Ray hid out, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7elj0XdDvGgYKdV4lTn-7swH2kafJqM1R53i9cbsVTc5qDItSW0F8PN9b-UUYja0ikJpNSPUIWTTOSpi5acsXGCIElqPWSw_BhuZ3ozaz943VENF3rbj8BACTRpgepkUst71guQ/s1600/hampton+Sides.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7elj0XdDvGgYKdV4lTn-7swH2kafJqM1R53i9cbsVTc5qDItSW0F8PN9b-UUYja0ikJpNSPUIWTTOSpi5acsXGCIElqPWSw_BhuZ3ozaz943VENF3rbj8BACTRpgepkUst71guQ/s320/hampton+Sides.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464486565869007186" border="0" /></a>interviewing participants of events and diving deep into the congressional records. However, the true strength of the book is the weaving together of already existing records and facts into a coherent and tight narrative. I appreciate the narrow focus of the book. Sides sticks to Ray and the final months of King's life. He assumes the reader has at least a rudimentary knowledge of the Civil Rights movement.<br /><br />Sides does a great job in answering the question of why King was gunned down in Memphis. His movements were so peripatetic in the spring of 1968 that Ray couldn't even track him down in his hometown of Atlanta. In Memphis, King got stalled for several days trying to organize a peaceful march for the striking garbage workers. He had no choice but to stick it out, because a few weeks earlier a march in Memphis had turned violent mortifying King and putting the moral currency of his whole movement in jeopardy.<br /><br />The role of the FBI is truly fascinating. The agency head J. Edgar Hoover hated King. This is a widely known fact and it was known at the time especially by anyone close to King. When Ray killed King many people assumed that the FBI was involved. It was an almost impossible situation that the agency found itself in, yet they exhausted every lead, spared no expense and somehow tracked down the elusive gunman two months later.<br /><br />At the luncheon, Sides spoke about how the book was structured around three chases. Ray was chasing King, the FBI was chasing King and the FBI was also chasing Ray. He professed admiration for the way the FBI conducted the investigation. "Once they started doing the job they were meant to do, they did it superbly." Sides said.<br /><br />I knew I was in the grip of a powerful book when, in a bizarre way, I was almost hoping that Ray wouldn't get caught. Sides' has done such a superb job with the narrative that the reader gets swept up in Ray's point of view. We see his desperation as the FBI closes in, we feel his panic as his money starts to dry up and we understand the turmoil in his mind when the gig is up and he says, "Oh God. I feel so trapped."<br /><br />Sides doesn't subscribe to any conspiracy theories. The evidence overwhelmingly points to Ray. He bought the gun, his fingerprints were on the gun, he was at the scene of the crime and he had been stalking King for weeks. Where he got his money isn't entirely known. His brother's possible involvement is an open question. At the luncheon, Sides didn't shut the door to the possibility that Ray had some form of aid, but certainly the evidence doesn't point to anything that could be called a conspiracy.<br /><br />Don't make the same mistake that I usually do. Don't just read the articles and think you know the story, read Sides' book and discover an odd corner of American history.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Hellhound on His Trail </span>will be released on April 27.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-66479011443577939682010-04-22T21:16:00.005-06:002010-04-22T21:34:31.583-06:00Devastating SecretsSecrets and the devastation that they can cause families are at the emotional core of Melissa Newman’s powerful and evocative debut novel Sister Blackberry. Her posse of strong female characters are both entrapped and redeemed through the revelations of long buried truths.<br /><br />“When you grow up around women, you know that they all harbor secrets,” Newman said. “That was one of the inspirations for the story.”<br /><br />The secrets in Sister Blackberry are much more than your garden variety women’s secrets. We aren’t talking about cheating spouses, petty crimes, or even aborted<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknzN0K36frvYko6coYWLdfnXvltt1PC33K7ETBzSOSTdzowKW0ZP6ookr31qvf9RrGMX6ljb4Y1_fFTNgRdmewZArMh458zTEwZOer8FwSEfkSlaacVnLW6Uqt_0QXrUQWiqrmg/s1600/Sister+Blackberry.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463167830594732898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknzN0K36frvYko6coYWLdfnXvltt1PC33K7ETBzSOSTdzowKW0ZP6ookr31qvf9RrGMX6ljb4Y1_fFTNgRdmewZArMh458zTEwZOer8FwSEfkSlaacVnLW6Uqt_0QXrUQWiqrmg/s400/Sister+Blackberry.jpg" /></a> pregnancy. Viola Garland is covering up the identity of a child, a murder and, most fascinating of all, the ambiguous sexuality of her daughter.<br /><br />The story opens in 1936 in Reyes County, Kentucky, when Viola is eighteen and pregnant. The events that unfold around the birth of her child will have far-reaching consequences to the present day. Viola is worried because her husband, Den, a miner, might not be at home when she goes into labor. Her friend and neighbor, Janie, is also pregnant, and the two women comfort each other despite Janie’s violent husband, Bick’s, disapproval of Viola.<br /><br />In this passage right before the babies are born, Viola ruminates on her concern over Janie’s situation:<br /><br />“She suspected that Bick would hit Janie when he found out she and Viola had been together. There weren’t as many bruises and marks since Janie had gotten pregnant, but there were still signs. Viola couldn’t figure out how someone as sweet as Janie could be married to a man who would hit her. And what about the baby? Would Bick hit the baby?”<br /><br />Bick is a truly menacing character and provides a stark contrast to the many women that populate the book.<br /><br />“Bick was well thought out,” Newman said. “I wanted to see how far he would go. What would push him? What was important to him? What would lead him to violence?”<br /><br />Viola and Janie give birth on the same night. Viola, alone because Den is in the mine and there is no time for her to get help. Janie is attended by the narrow-minded charismatic leader of Bick’s evangelical church and his wife. Neither birth goes as planned. In a harrowing and dreamlike passage, the lives of all the characters are altered in unforeseen ways by the two births. The secrets begin.<br /><br />“I dreamt this story like a movie,” Newman said. “This is something that really disturbed me. I dreamed the characters of Viola and (her daughter) Doris. I wrote an outline and then I did a lot of research…. I wrote it before Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex came out. It sat in a drawer for a long time.”<br /><br />As Doris grows up, she has a secret that she doesn’t quite understand herself. Why don’t her genitals look like her sister Nadine’s? Why aren’t her breasts developing?<br /><br />Ultimately, it is the jealousy between the sisters that reveals Doris’ secret in the most humiliating way possible. Stuck in small-town Kentucky in the 1950s, Doris feels that there is no other option but to leave.<br /><br />“Relationships with sisters are very complex and competitive,” Newman said. “Add a boy and it’s like fire and kerosene coming together. I drew on something that happened with me and my sister. We both liked the same boy in high school. I thought about how cruel I was, wanting to humiliate her.”<br /><br />Doris’ story of surviving as a runaway is, in many ways, the strongest part of the book. The scenes of her life in Cleveland don’t have nearly the drama that some of the earlier scenes contain, but Newman is really able to delve into her character. The writing is more assured, and several of the characters that Doris meets are quickly and adeptly developed. Doris emerges in this section as a stable and wise centerpiece to the novel. Against the odds, she finds her way in the world. In a way, Nadine has done her sister a favor by freeing her to live in the wider world.<br />However, Doris, like Newman herself, returns to her Kentucky home. Newman, who worked as a journalist throughout the Midwest, returned to her rural Kentucky roots eight years ago.<br /><br />“Doris wanted to go home,” Newman said. “We spend the first half of our lives trying to get out and the second half trying to get back home. Doris had seen it and done it and was ready to come back.”<br /><br />Nadine has a tougher time. The guilt of what she’s done to her sister will haunt her for the rest of her life. She will also pass down her feelings of inadequacy to her own daughters, blaming Doris for her misery.<br /><br />“Nadine got what she wanted,” Newman said. “But it wasn’t really what she wanted. She just wanted to be like Doris. Once Doris was gone she didn’t really want Edwin (the boy they were fighting over). It caused her alcoholism and her miserable marriage.”<br /><br />Newman does an excellent job in teasing out these plotlines in a subtle yet powerful way. The various revelations are well-paced and suspenseful. She shows us how guilt and lying can wear down a family. The lying is something that the 87-year old Viola cannot live with any longer. It is her desire to tell Nadine’s grown daughters the truth about the family that ultimately drives this tale.<br /><br />Newman is at work on her second novel and believes that she’s learned a great deal from writing Sister Blackberry. Here’s hoping she’s still got a few secrets up her sleeve.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-60507292358973670952010-04-05T15:48:00.007-06:002010-04-05T16:45:30.865-06:00Escape from Zombieland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzuU0Y__-E8M_tYadhflh4n8266-GwPydQiNdFFu9WlxiBR5kRKKFubAWoloO3KUaz-Ggx8yw74OF44c3p-PPMa3ofEqpH92oMzVJDuPTJ0W5Iq_hx25qrgqcOOITx759bc_AJw/s1600/Madame_Bovary_1933_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZzuU0Y__-E8M_tYadhflh4n8266-GwPydQiNdFFu9WlxiBR5kRKKFubAWoloO3KUaz-Ggx8yw74OF44c3p-PPMa3ofEqpH92oMzVJDuPTJ0W5Iq_hx25qrgqcOOITx759bc_AJw/s320/Madame_Bovary_1933_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784490620825026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I gave up on the publishing industry for a month or two there. The piles of reader's copies stopped speaking to me. The gleaming jackets of the new novels did not beguile me. The letters from publicists and the imploring stares from the reps that still have jobs did not move me. It all seemed stale, repackaged, and if it wasn't written about Zombies it seemed to be written by Zombies or written for Zombies.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> I am not a Zombie.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Instead I cleansed my mind by reading </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >Madame Bovary</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> and </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >Notes from the Underground</span><span style="font-family:arial;">. Both were novels I should have read years ago. My favorite Woody Allen short story, </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >The Kugel</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >mass Episode</span><span style="font-family:arial;">, features </span><span style="font-family:arial;">a New Yorker going to Yonville in order to carry on an affair with the Emma Bovary. Ah... now I really get it. I enjoyed the novel but wasn't a big fan of Emma. I loved many of the minor characters, most notably Monsieur Homais, the pharmacist.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Dostoyev</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjW8RMfQjW5J5NgYFws7JQQoyZf4Qq-OjjkB6C4fkYDSQW8KO7qcIw0uw98sznlDfhyscujdQ3xOL4rbhx6LwYflQxaa2Qh0fp23Ayl6YWh9oJ2Rv6JzLSyjoxh69KPxj-trFew/s1600/notes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjW8RMfQjW5J5NgYFws7JQQoyZf4Qq-OjjkB6C4fkYDSQW8KO7qcIw0uw98sznlDfhyscujdQ3xOL4rbhx6LwYflQxaa2Qh0fp23Ayl6YWh9oJ2Rv6JzLSyjoxh69KPxj-trFew/s200/notes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784632674782258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">sky's little masterpiece was the first translation by the dynamic duo of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky that I've read. I compared several </span><span style="font-family:arial;">paragraphs to the Constance</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> Garnett translati</span><span style="font-family:arial;">on and found the new one more lithesome and easier to grasp. The biggest difference comes in the first sentence. Garnett writes, "I am a sick man....I am a spiteful man." Pevear's reads "I am a sick man....I am a wicked man." Wicked is a much broader word than spiteful. It's particularly important because it is how our narrator defines himself throughout the entire book. To be spiteful is to merely hold a grievance. To be wicked is to dissolute to the core.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMxsFu2vl_rmUNL7WlXFtXG-DqFqxL5lLoh6k3E3wojesMngndPMFjaSDK3r9FE66PiGrMHXHyrFAOy7uKnU8CC2vJWIXXDrdmYdxo_mRYOQjpV5M02sN688LCsSya_xdPC8JrA/s1600/surrendered.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMxsFu2vl_rmUNL7WlXFtXG-DqFqxL5lLoh6k3E3wojesMngndPMFjaSDK3r9FE66PiGrMHXHyrFAOy7uKnU8CC2vJWIXXDrdmYdxo_mRYOQjpV5M02sN688LCsSya_xdPC8JrA/s320/surrendered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456783473081314578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">After my brief foray into the classics, I returned to the contemporary novel and r</span><span style="font-family:arial;">ead three that I really enjoyed. Actually, enjoyed is not quite the right word for Chang Rae Lee's <span style="font-style: italic;">Th</span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-style: italic;">e Surrendered. </span>It's a harsh novel but if you can get through the first 50 pages about the destruction of a Korean family during the war, you've gotten through the toughest part. That's not quite true, there is a brutal sequence later on set i</span><span style="font-family:arial;">n Manch</span><span style="font-family:arial;">ur</span><span style="font-family:arial;">ia that gave me nightmares.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Here are my latest recommendations posted in the store:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">The Surrendered</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> by Chang Rae Lee</span><p></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">This harrowing novel follows the lives of both Korean and American survivors of the Korean War. June and Hector are reunited despite their secret of history of violence and lost love. Lee slowly reveals their parallel tales building the novel's tension and showing us a world permanently marked by wars and atrocity.</p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><i style="">The Privilege</i><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ11YDQFJdF62n0CzB7NmxqhonmUadQHJnDWiyoDasI_cHUxS36Kh0GxeNQ8Pz-ruzLZ55Bda1eHn4lGd6GxsJsRSBGN-yw-1PvIP-loY7In5Q5UUd31SSoq0gw3G9wuVuMq_dVA/s1600/dee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ11YDQFJdF62n0CzB7NmxqhonmUadQHJnDWiyoDasI_cHUxS36Kh0GxeNQ8Pz-ruzLZ55Bda1eHn4lGd6GxsJsRSBGN-yw-1PvIP-loY7In5Q5UUd31SSoq0gw3G9wuVuMq_dVA/s200/dee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456784227825660882" border="0" /></a><i style="">s</i> by Jonathan Dee</p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">The Morey family has it all -- looks, charms, wits and money, lots of it. What they lack is scruples, ethics and some basic humanity. <st1:place st="on">Dee</st1:place> tells the story from all four of the family members' perspectives. The Morey's pathological inability to think about their past and the corrupting influence of money leads to family even less savory than their eel namesake.</p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><i style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">All Other Nights</i><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"> by Dara Horn</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP901QJyKN5TswvAwhFOTSdPXO_6lXdmufJ4bpbF1lblIrwTpQx-Jt2V3g50bKignunBGMcQcjdwcddgaUse30UG18AjJ5l-zQ2itQLX19mw-BhwWHVD89rSbPzoTT_WOvQ3UUUQ/s1600/horn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP901QJyKN5TswvAwhFOTSdPXO_6lXdmufJ4bpbF1lblIrwTpQx-Jt2V3g50bKignunBGMcQcjdwcddgaUse30UG18AjJ5l-zQ2itQLX19mw-BhwWHVD89rSbPzoTT_WOvQ3UUUQ/s320/horn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456783465072045474" border="0" /></a></p><p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="font-family: arial;" class="MsoNormal">Civil War intrigue, Jewish history and beautiful spies are the foundation for Horn's enthralling novel. Jacob Rappaport, a 19-year old private, is dispatched to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">New Orleans</st1:place></st1:city> to kills his plotting uncle on Passover. That's the easiest of his assignments. Marriage to a <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Virginia</st1:place></st1:state> spy is the most difficult but delectable mission. Rappaport's cunning and morals are sorely tested during his adventures.</p><br /><br /><br /></span>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-68372405904310852932009-12-03T13:32:00.012-07:002009-12-04T20:49:28.561-07:00Some Recent FavoritesMy reading has taken some strange twists and turns this year. Instead of ingesting my regular dose of contemporary poetry and new novels, I've been downing <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Is Your Mama A Lama </span>almost every night before bed. This new medicine is not without its benefits: I recently dis<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2v9QYskRF9CLKHef9tGxa2kOI2p76qS6rDEG5aCVZcnQO7Tf9128hkzhyRJRY0IJM5rVGmLx6bD8-trseEJpEk-ULSF7T582yRTtsyhLorb788G8H-CZEsHHJBHeKAgB6GVa9Q/s1600-h/Is+your+Mama.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411124582378708914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2v9QYskRF9CLKHef9tGxa2kOI2p76qS6rDEG5aCVZcnQO7Tf9128hkzhyRJRY0IJM5rVGmLx6bD8-trseEJpEk-ULSF7T582yRTtsyhLorb788G8H-CZEsHHJBHeKAgB6GVa9Q/s200/Is+your+Mama.jpg" border="0" /></a>covered that "pat" was a verb in <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Pat the Bunny. </span>I'd always assumed that Pat was just a gender neutral rabbit name. Imagine my surprise when I turned the pages and my baby was playing peek-a-boo, looking in a mirror and trying on a ring.<br /><br />In the last month, I've managed to read a few adult novels between encore performances of <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Goodnight Gorilla</span> and <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Are You My Mother</span> that probably won't appear on any year-end top 10 lists, but that are worth remembering and discussing. All three of these novels feature strong female characters and interesting narrative twists.<br /><br />The best of th<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEei4r-ycgIfeIHrMP64vkRzl6OXYF1sBiTqerDM_QZu8OY5rCJ1Ll03dxgM6dlwfdNFWjMrL7XoWoi34gEnRfio6VuDTRWY-3q-r2kvOSYm5gDOX1FtlvX2_MR75tdP8wOUkew/s1600-h/true+confections.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411122892499914242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEei4r-ycgIfeIHrMP64vkRzl6OXYF1sBiTqerDM_QZu8OY5rCJ1Ll03dxgM6dlwfdNFWjMrL7XoWoi34gEnRfio6VuDTRWY-3q-r2kvOSYm5gDOX1FtlvX2_MR75tdP8wOUkew/s320/true+confections.jpg" border="0" /></a>e bunch was Katharine Weber's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">True Confections</span>. Weber's book won't come out until later this month, but it's been on my radar since the summer, when Weber tracked me down with a friendly email and asked that I give it a try. She thought my love of Philip Roth's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Portnoy's Complaint</span> might make me a sympathetic reader. She was right. Here's the recommendation tag that I've written up for the store:<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">I love an unreliable narrator. The reader has to look for clues in the dialogue, in other c</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">haracters' reactions and in subtle hints to divine the real story. Weber employs this device to create a brilliant satire on the candy industry. Alice Tatnall Ziplinsky of Zip's Candies tells her story in a rambling affidavit that exposes the racist origins of the company and her complicity in the firm's many disasters.</span><br /><br />Weber weaved in so many fascinating and arcane facts about the candy business (my favorite was that Hart Crane's father invented lifesavers) that I began to believe that she made them up. She didn't. Her amazing research gives her quirky narration a verisimilitude that few comic novels achieve. The story lives on in Weber's blog <a href="http://www.staircasewriting.blogspot.com/">Staircase Writing</a> where she has continued to delve into her candy obsession.<br /><br />Nancy Mauro's debut novel <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">New World Monkeys </span>was another comedy that featured a lot of obsessive behavior. I felt that Mauro's strength and weaknesses were one and the same. The novel is about a lot of different things (a failing marriage, a<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPbqkiL0JYsm0nxT3LKvFASvdvVkgBxvcRmNHBojq17-QO2TtN6c2wW2X4x5RTX3owruAWuxja3tQQ5vVTagzkRhro4hDjfc5KuozLG9kih1vyjtwvtDKnVt37FrOeRpj3x-lEQ/s1600-h/new+world+monkeys.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411123995844559458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsPbqkiL0JYsm0nxT3LKvFASvdvVkgBxvcRmNHBojq17-QO2TtN6c2wW2X4x5RTX3owruAWuxja3tQQ5vVTagzkRhro4hDjfc5KuozLG9kih1vyjtwvtDKnVt37FrOeRpj3x-lEQ/s200/new+world+monkeys.gif" border="0" /></a> mangled ad campaign, a pervert, the excavation of long buried bones, crazy townsfolk) that make for intriguing reading. But sometimes it feels that the novel is too jam-packed. A little focus and quiet space could have allowed her two lead characters to be realized in a fuller way. The pervert, a minor side character, was the most human in the eclectic cast and the reader is both thrilled and terribly disgusted when he succeeds. Here's my recommendation tag:<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">A rollicking novel about two city slickers who inherit a rural house with disastrous consequences (they run over the town mascot - a wild boar on their initial journey to the home) as they cling to their deteriorating marriage. Lily digs up her ancestor's missing maid and wards off the boar's crazy o</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">wner while </span><?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city style="FONT-STYLE: italic" st="on">Duncan</st1:city><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"> works on a sexist ad campaign that mocks the Vietnam War back in </span><st1:state style="FONT-STYLE: italic" st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">.<br /><br /></span>Check out this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpMLm2f5kSw&feature=related">promotional video</a> that Mauro, an advertising professional, made for the book. It closely portrays the novel's opening scene.<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></p>Peter Rock<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AkNOrszX6KX0bMdCmr-WuIJ6cDptnyi_DtvaA346o2aUwiEQ7VwIzUGp-p73-_dSjnUxuZ0j7FUSWX-ibZTMvQXXhLZwql1lIbwBRxynVEJZTQHk-dUmON129U8T6MHxCEyHEA/s1600-h/my+abandonment.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411126884323822850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 242px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AkNOrszX6KX0bMdCmr-WuIJ6cDptnyi_DtvaA346o2aUwiEQ7VwIzUGp-p73-_dSjnUxuZ0j7FUSWX-ibZTMvQXXhLZwql1lIbwBRxynVEJZTQHk-dUmON129U8T6MHxCEyHEA/s320/my+abandonment.gif" border="0" /></a>'s <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">My Abandonment </span>follows the true story of a girl and her father who lived in Portland's Forest Park for several years. He tells the story from the 13-year old girl's perspective. Her tale unfolds beautifully, almost poetic in the rhythm and language. She's at one with nature in the forest, running through the paths in bare feet, strangely attune to any noises or changes in the direction of the wind. It all comes to an end when the camp is discovered by a backcountry jogger and the pair are taken into police custody.<br /><br />Rock follows the story past its real-life roots. The pair disappeared some years ago and no one seems to know what became of them. Rock imagines a macabre and paranoid future for the father--one that didn't ring quite true to me based on the family's time in the woods and how he handled his brief confinement. Still, it was a wonderful read that reminded me of some of the great young adult books of my youth, like <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Island of the Blue Dolphins </span>and <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Julie of the Wolves</span>. Here's an<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A8E5CcZPJ14"> interview with Peter Rock</a> about the true story behind his novel.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-29519147006324090432009-10-30T14:45:00.008-06:002009-10-30T17:55:54.917-06:00The Youngest Book Buyer EverIn a shocking development, Boulder Book Store hired 11-month old Martina Kashkashian to join their book b<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJocDVLO4YVoN1Wtbnrq2kScw4a8nY8wz98MlVAOnI6-bwZvWGqcbFfHpTtN0QnBODOhpqRp6xMMss59U-hTswT6zNcksMXyKtvRPRNxFC7EPzbm4DSrutmzPOgsA2tO1esO60A/s1600-h/Pinkbeary.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398537575466177970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJocDVLO4YVoN1Wtbnrq2kScw4a8nY8wz98MlVAOnI6-bwZvWGqcbFfHpTtN0QnBODOhpqRp6xMMss59U-hTswT6zNcksMXyKtvRPRNxFC7EPzbm4DSrutmzPOgsA2tO1esO60A/s400/Pinkbeary.JPG" border="0" /></a>uying department last week. She is the youngest buyer in North America and perhaps the world, although there are unconfirmed reports that a nine-month-old monkey is the head of purchasing at a metaphysical book store in Montevideo, Uruguay.<br /><div></div><br /><div>"We just felt like we needed a new direction," general manager Nesra Naihsakhsak said. "An infusion of new blood, a fresh outlook. It's easy to get frustrated in this business. She won't think about how wonderful things used to be in the 1980s and 90s. Heck, she can't even remember 2008."<br /><br />Kash's Book Corner was given a rare opportunity to sit down with this gifted and talented buyer at 3:30 this morning for a fascinating interview. Between feedings she spoke about her book buying philosophy, the publishing industry, the current price wars that are raging and her plush pink bear.<br /><br />Here's the interview:<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Cor</span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">ner: </span>How did you get the job at such a young age?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>I've been hanging around the bookstore since my days in the womb. I attended the Mountains & Plains regional show in Colorado Springs a week before I was born and that really gave me a broader perspective on the industry. I've also sat in with my father on several frontlist buys, attended BEA in New York, and even a Simon & Schuster sales conference in Florida. It's hard to beat those formative experiences. At the same time, I'm a virtual "tabula rasa" in terms of book knowledge. I'm open to new experiences.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>What will be your responsibilities?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJx1GiLki4rijYpA7Ut6QWXfEfOW8JEvzepV4_22ardykKhbRy-cUMsONlZKAzmNI8YvQsA71-HhYB1KFuMx4YQMmrFxNitHyJv8bkh4qahO61PVTo1YaQvQJJemPA1J8YLpQ46A/s1600-h/Martinawork.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398510308525245522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJx1GiLki4rijYpA7Ut6QWXfEfOW8JEvzepV4_22ardykKhbRy-cUMsONlZKAzmNI8YvQsA71-HhYB1KFuMx4YQMmrFxNitHyJv8bkh4qahO61PVTo1YaQvQJJemPA1J8YLpQ46A/s400/Martinawork.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>It's really baby steps for me. Not that I know what that really means since I haven't taken any steps yet. I'm just going to buy the publishers that have electronic catalogs on Edelweiss. Let me see, that's Random House, Harper, Penguin and Hachette adult and children's books. Also, Chronicle, W.W. Norton, Ingram Publisher Services. That's it. Daddy will still buy Columbia University titles.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>I'm amazed you are willing to tackle an electronic catalog even though you are just starting out. So many booksellers are terrified by it.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>They're just old. Old people don't understand new things. I'm a baby. It's simple. Look, take an 8 or 9-year-old. They started school before iPhones were even invented. It's mind boggling. I had an iPhone in the womb. How can you expect them to adapt? I don't even know how they found their way out of the womb without an iPhone. I was able to calculate the correct time and the proper angle using two simple apps . . . can I have my PinkBeary now?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>Just a few more questions. You are entering the book business at a time of tremendous upheaval. What do you think of the current price wars?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>I'm just upset that Amazon and Target won't sell me the books that cheap. It makes me shriek at the top of my lungs like that time Mommy fed me mashed up asparagus.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkc-ZNgL_Amq5U3DxGoiaz1r3a7LgJxUD8DIJUXcDaA89HlVJe8TRQ9Hg7J5Tadcyp3daXSm6vjKppQfpIR0wEOWLOKEZF0MasSpwkdsccjGGJ28uqY3L_s773S98LcMWWPBE9Bg/s1600-h/martinawork3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398510723399857026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkc-ZNgL_Amq5U3DxGoiaz1r3a7LgJxUD8DIJUXcDaA89HlVJe8TRQ9Hg7J5Tadcyp3daXSm6vjKppQfpIR0wEOWLOKEZF0MasSpwkdsccjGGJ28uqY3L_s773S98LcMWWPBE9Bg/s400/martinawork3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>But after telling customers to buy local and independent, how could you look them in the eye if you bought books from Amazon?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>I can't look anyone in the eye. I'm 2-foot-2.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>You are buying the most important publishers in the industry. How will you know what to buy?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>My daddy said I only needed to know two words: "No" and "Co-op." My two-year old friend says "no" all the time, so I figure this is a good chance to practice for me. I'll just say "no, no, no" on the adult books until the rep looks really upset, and then I'll give my cutest smile and ask "co-op?" I'm supposed to squeeze them for every last penny. The children's books will be more about taste. Literally. A good book, even a publisher sample, will have a certain texture and flavor when you put it in your mouth. "Yummy" will mean yes.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>I'm sure that you are aware that there is very little money in bookselling. Why pursue it as a career?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>I want my PinkBeary now!<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>Here you go.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMoaDVyjaQzyn7cuDdV3-CW3l3OOjlaUDgyo5hhXLffMTl1gFs_bRLXrkzsZgfURipCofya2K00HZrDE6q9NTD4KZ-ReZ8g842cne6VarVAwZXnJXdgS5xyBGYFJYQf4vMub9Zw/s1600-h/martinawork2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398510301583239282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMoaDVyjaQzyn7cuDdV3-CW3l3OOjlaUDgyo5hhXLffMTl1gFs_bRLXrkzsZgfURipCofya2K00HZrDE6q9NTD4KZ-ReZ8g842cne6VarVAwZXnJXdgS5xyBGYFJYQf4vMub9Zw/s400/martinawork2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: [</span>Squeezes her pink bear really hard.] Money! I don't even get an allowance. I don't get to pick any of my own clothes and they spoon feed me all sorts of mashed up vegetables. Now, I can get a few dresses, and the reps will take me out to sushi. Minimum wage sounds pretty good to me.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>What are your favorite new books?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>I'm a big fan of A.S. Byatt's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Children's Book. </span>Does <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Goodnight Gorilla</span> count? I'm also really curious about <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Arguing with Idiots </span>by Glenn Beck. Daddy won't let me read it because he says I'm too impressionable. I think it's because he doesn't want me to know how to argue with him.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>Thanks a lot, and good luck on the job.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Martina: </span>Can I go climb up and down the stairs now?<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kash's Book Corner: </span>Go back to sleep, please.<br /><br /></div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-87466034141049037602009-10-11T11:19:00.007-06:002009-10-11T20:33:04.468-06:00The Evolution Revolution<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtztAyGtsS6NZ-f_NqDRtwPJAsG005AIk5nxpA44oeGw-XhIm8Dt8S0pzJRfq0Yos5ujvkDtfGq1YPMFpfRmNAjDKBVjG0mxWb513FTW7kI0UvdUFPIwsKGEr9gQSFh7ThoYXIA/s1600-h/Evolution.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391496313363787202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtztAyGtsS6NZ-f_NqDRtwPJAsG005AIk5nxpA44oeGw-XhIm8Dt8S0pzJRfq0Yos5ujvkDtfGq1YPMFpfRmNAjDKBVjG0mxWb513FTW7kI0UvdUFPIwsKGEr9gQSFh7ThoYXIA/s400/Evolution.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I have an article about the book <em>Why Evolution Works (and Creationism Fails) </em>by Paul Strode and Matt Young in the October 8 issue of the <em>Boulder Weekly</em>. The pair are coming to speak at the store this Wednesday, October 14.</div><div></div><br /><div>On the day the article appeared, I had lunch at the bar of the Walnut Brewery just a block from the bookstore. It was a bitterly cold day that threatened snow. I was rooting on my beloved Phillies in the playoffs against the local nine, the Colorado Rockies. A grizzled elderly man, in a blue fishing hat and a heavy white sweatshirt with a beer in hand moved to the seat next to me from the other end of the bar. </div><br /><div></div><div>After a moment of small talk, I quickly revealed that I worked at the Boulder Book Store. He became quite excited and told me that he collected first editions of American history books that were written between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War.</div><div></div><br /><div>"These books appeal to all three senses," he said, poking his finger into my knee as he slurped down his chili. I tried to tell him that there were five senses, but I couldn't get a word in. "The sense of sight, the sense of touch and the sense of smell all come alive when you read these books. Those old leather covers have quite an aroma."</div><div></div><br /><div>He was particularly keen on his biographies. "You know, people didn't make a big deal about Jefferson in those years. There are only a couple of biographies of him compared to at least a dozen of Washington. I guess they didn't think much of Jefferson back then. Of course, those biographies are quite valuable because there are only a couple, and they didn't print many."</div><div></div><br /><div>I nodded and watched as the Rockies catcher Yorvit Torrealba hit a two-run shot over the left field fence in Philadelphia. It didn't look like it was going to be the Phillies day, and I had to head back to work. I tried to bid adieu, but the man jabbed his forceful finger back into my thigh.</div><div></div><br /><div>"The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Marshall#Biography_of_Washington">greatest biography of Washington </a>was written by John Marshall," he said.</div><br /><div></div><div>"The Supreme Court Justice," I replied.</div><br /><div></div><div>He gazed at me for a moment with something that seemed to border on appreciation. "Yes. It's five volumes. He knew Washington. He had access to his papers. There will never be a better biography written of the man. Why do these revisionist historians keep writing new ones? Why don't they teach Marshall in school?"</div><div></div><br /><div>I posited that they didn't teach five volumes of anything in school and also that 200-year old history books were almost never used. New information has come to light, I told him. Also, Marshall was a Federalist who fought with Washington, so he just may be favorably biased towards him.</div><div></div><br /><div>He stared up at the television as the Phillies came to bat against the Rockies' Aaron Cook. It was bright and sunny in Philadelphia, a marvelous day for baseball. We both shivered every time the door to the brewery opened and let in some of the freezing Colorado air. Snow flakes were now lazily falling on the other side of the Walnut's floor-to-ceiling windows. He slowly began to shake his head no. I took the bait.</div><div></div><br /><div>"Why do you think they don't teach Marshall? I asked.</div><div></div><br /><div>He leaned back and turned fully towards me. "Because he talks about God. Marshall discusses how religious Washington was and how this nation was founded on Christian principles. People don't want that taught anymore."</div><div></div><br /><div>"What about deism?" I interjected. He swatted at the air as if an annoying gnat had flown by.</div><div></div><br /><div>"This was a Christian nation. It was based on the bible. The founders believed in the bible. Now their freedom of religion has been twisted to mean freedom <em>from</em> religion."</div><div></div><br /><div>I rubbed my forehead and stared longingly at the front door of the restaurant. "Well, you can't have freedom <em>of</em> religion if you don't have freedom <em>from</em> religion," I said. "Look, I would have no problem with it being taught in history classes that the founders based their decisions on the bible and that they were guided by their religion, if it's true. If we can document it."</div><div></div><br /><div>"Oh, it's true," he said. "These revisionist historians want to just delete all of those things out. People have twisted the constitution around so much that we can't even teach the bible in school anymore."</div><div></div><br /><div>I stood up in an effort to leave, but I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. The snow was really coming down outside, and the Rockies seemed to be threatening to score once again off the Phillies' ace, Cole Hamels. </div><div></div><br /><div>"The bible has no place in school except in a religion class, " I told the old man, trying not to look at the chili stains on the corners of his mouth.</div><div></div><br /><div>"I'll tell you where the bible should be taught," he responded. "In history class. Secular historians have said the the first five books of the bible are the most accurate history of that time period that we have. Archaeologists have not been able to refute anything in those books."</div><div></div><br /><div>I stared at him with incredulity. Perhaps I'd heard wrong. Maybe he wasn't talking about the Old Testament. "What time period is that exactly?" I asked.</div><div></div><br /><div>"From creation to ..."</div><div></div><div></div><div>"You don't believe in evolution," I blurted out.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>"That's an adult fairy tale. It's all made up."</div><br /><div></div><div>Despite having more than enough ammunition to argue with him after my close reading of <em>Why Evolution Works, </em>I had no energy or time for the fight. This guy wouldn't even agree with Intelligent Design, let alone evolution. I shook his hand and told him that I really had to go.</div><br /><div></div><div>"You think a frog becomes a man?" he yelled at my back as I hurried toward the door, pulling my jacket collar up around my ears. "You think that you can just add a few years, and a frog will turn into a man? That's all it takes is a few extra years."</div><div></div><br /><div>I exited the brewery, and within 20-feet of the doors was a box dispensing the <em>Boulder Weekly. </em>The cover teased of my article inside, "Local science teacher leads the evolution revolution."</div><br /><div></div><div>Here's a copy of the article:</div><div></div><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>A Fairview science teacher’s guide for the anti-creationist</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div>When Fairview High’s Paul Strode was a new science teacher in the early 1990s, he wasn’t ready for the challenge that a student brought to him when he taught evolution.</div><div></div><br /><div>“In my first year, I had a student plop a stack of (creationist) pamphlets on my desk,” Strode says. “At the time I had no answer for him. I couldn’t answer him when he said that the horse was obviously made for humans to ride. I didn’t have the understanding of evolution or the understanding of how science worked.”</div><div></div><br /><div>Strode and Colorado School of Mines senior lecturer Matt Young’s new book Why Evolution Works (and Creationism Fails) addresses the common misconceptions regarding evolution and debunks the flawed ideas of modern-day creationists. </div><br /><div></div><div>Any teacher or person who reads this engaging treatise will be much better prepared than Strode was as a new teacher when confronted by creationists.</div><div></div><br /><div>Apparently, there are an awful lot of creationists out there. In a recent Gallup poll done on the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s birth in February, only 39 percent of Americans said they believed in the theory of evolution. A quarter of the population rejects Darwin’s theories outright, while the rest of America doesn’t seem to care.</div><div></div><br /><div>Young and Strode are alarmed by how many people refuse to accept scientific facts. In the opening pages of Why Evolution Works, they explain how ignorance of the basics of evolution can lead to a health disaster. The overuse of antibiotics, in everything from livestock to fowl to treatment of minor infections has caused many bacteria to evolve into new antibiotic-resistant strains. Most notably, the malaria parasite has grown resistant to quinine and its derivatives.</div><div></div><br /><div>“Creationism doesn’t exist in a vacuum,” Young said. “Creationism correlates with denying climate change, the Holocaust and that HIV causes AIDS. People don’t believe in a great many things that science has proven to be facts. The result is these people are dangerous. In South Africa, countless people died because the prime minister [Thabo Mbeki] denied the link between HIV and AIDS.”</div><br /><div></div><div>Why Evolution Works uses a thorough explanation of how science works to help dismantle the arguments against evolution. It seems like something any halfway-educated person should know (how hypotheses, experimentation, observations and theories fit together), yet in Young’s and Strode’s hands, it’s a revelation.</div><div></div><br /><div>“One of the misunderstandings is the process of science. Our explanations change as we learn more about nature,” Strode says. “People think that it’s a weakness. ‘Oh, you’re wrong again.’ We are just gathering more information. Some information confirms your hypothesis, some adds a layer, and some contradicts it. Evolution is one of the most successful theories in all of science.”</div><br /><div></div><div>Muddying the scientific waters are contemporary creationists that operate under the ruse of Intelligent Design. Writers such as Michael Behe and William Dembski assert that certain structures, like eyes, are too complex to have evolved from simpler systems. Behe admits, unlike many creationists, that earth is billions of years old and that all life has a common ancestor. However, he argues that the universe was “designed” for life.</div><div></div><br /><div>Young and Strode take on each one of these points and expose the flaws in reasoning behind them. Dembski’s math is questionable and his view of probability is unnecessarily limited. Behe’s contention that the universe is designed is belied by a close examination of three jury-rigged features of human anatomy. The knee is terribly injury-prone, the scrotum is a strange solution to the problem of keeping sperm cool, and the eye is susceptible to glaucoma and cataracts.</div><br /><div></div><div>“The human knee, the mammalian scrotum, and the vertebrate eye are far from perfect, but rather are merely the best evolution can do given the constraints of developmental genes and structures and functions already in place,” Young and Strode write. “Perhaps better designs could be envisioned, but evolution has had to work with what it had.”</div><br /><div></div><div>“Intelligent Design is a deliberate attempt to get around the Supreme Court ruling that you can’t teach religion,” Young says. “They don’t make any claims about the identity of the designer. But it’s obvious what they are getting at.”</div><br /><div></div><div>Although the history of creationism and the lessons in basic science provide great entertainment, the heart of Why Evolution Works is a brief but thorough look into the theory of evolution. Young and Strode look at the theory from several different angles, including the dating of the earth’s beginning, new genetic research and how embryos of different species can show us their common ancestors.</div><div></div><br /><div>They describe these normally dense scientific topics in short chapters in a conversational tone. Each chapter has a conclusion that summarizes the information and there are several boxes with quirky evolutionary stories.</div><div></div><br /><div>“I wanted to write a book for the high school level,” Young says. “Our publisher wanted it to be for the college market. We’d like to see everyone read it. We are also aiming the book at the fence-sitters. People who think some of Intelligent Design makes sense. We want to show them that science trumps dogma.”</div><br /><div></div><div>Why Evolution Works directly addresses the question of whether science and religion can co-exist. Strode and Young tell the story of two brothers-in-law who traveled the path from young earth creationists (they believed the earth was only 10,000 years old and Noah’s flood literally happened) to evolutionists.</div><br /><div></div><div>Stephen Godfrey was studying to be a paleontologist when he discovered fossilized footprints of animals in sedimentary rocks. If all the fossils were deposited during Noah’s flood, how could footprints exist? His brother-in-law, Christopher Smith, changed his mind while taking a course on the interpretation of the Old Testament. He began to see the bible’s Genesis chapter as poetry and not as literal history. Godfrey and Smith maintain their Christian beliefs.</div><div></div><br /><div>However, many fundamentalist Christians would probably find Young’s and Strode’s words chilling as they try to reconcile their beliefs. “Any belief, religious or other, that denies known scientific fact is seriously in need of reconsideration,” they write. “Religion and science are not incompatible, but some religious beliefs are at odds with facts and need to be reevaluated. Unhappily, rather than reevaluate their beliefs, proponents of such religious beliefs have set forward the pseudo-scientific claims that are a major concern of this book.”</div><div></div><br /><div>Researching and writing Why Evolution Works has helped solidify Strode’s own understanding of the issues that he deals with as a high school teacher.</div><div></div><div>“I recently had a parent at Boulder High School who said, ‘I heard you teach biology with evolution. Do you teach other theories? Like creationism.’ I said, ‘I teach science. If you are interested I have a book coming out on the subject.”</div><br /><div></div><div><br /><strong>For More Info:Paul Strode and Matt Young will sign and speak about <em>Why Evolution Works</em> at the Boulder Book Store on Oct. 14 at 7:30 p.m. 1107 Pearl St., Boulder, 303-447-2074.</strong></div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-68969776841570672222009-09-14T20:48:00.006-06:002009-09-14T22:09:33.347-06:00Does Dan Brown Hold Bookselling Key?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTj50-s4FVYIX7QdcbLxLuy_vP02IagVcCPp41rFaTcFGnlxnrdNev-X1Bk-7-ecxyDFr3y05I1Q9H6yjcofjzlFi1r-U05grXLmjbsuUWVoJDUkQAusIaGsoLj_v4SEUVNKKlg/s1600-h/Brown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381539472846891138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTj50-s4FVYIX7QdcbLxLuy_vP02IagVcCPp41rFaTcFGnlxnrdNev-X1Bk-7-ecxyDFr3y05I1Q9H6yjcofjzlFi1r-U05grXLmjbsuUWVoJDUkQAusIaGsoLj_v4SEUVNKKlg/s400/Brown.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This morning, I was expecting 492 copies of Dan Brown’s <em>Lost Symbol</em> to arrive with our UPS order. I greeted the driver at the door with a big smile and eagerly helped catch the boxes. My grin disappeared when only one measly box of the Lost Symbol showed up. </div><div><br />Was it a 492-book carton? Was Dan Brown’s new opus just a slim, stapled pamphlet retailing for $28.95? No. The box contained a single 12-copy floor display. We were missing 480 copies of our order. </div><div><br />I did what any normal book buyer would do in this day and age. I tweeted about the problem. I figured it was the fastest way that I could reach as many Random House people as possible. I also called my rep in a panic. We are not expecting Dan Brown to save our year or even our month, but we sure don’t want to look silly by running out of the most hyped book of the year a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZvNYMS9PeGtOy6cjS5L3MYLciiJMaDrZ_KF8ur9ZKTuJcttspEtMQT0RFvTbSa34OskhVuAFUkjbfiKeaxdPDQ1uXyCFws7sK0mbrAfy5L-fzBQZT3HRkYBhTzevON5OYpnD2Q/s1600-h/krakauer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381539607938562962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZvNYMS9PeGtOy6cjS5L3MYLciiJMaDrZ_KF8ur9ZKTuJcttspEtMQT0RFvTbSa34OskhVuAFUkjbfiKeaxdPDQ1uXyCFws7sK0mbrAfy5L-fzBQZT3HRkYBhTzevON5OYpnD2Q/s400/krakauer.jpg" border="0" /></a>n hour after its release. </div><div><br />The books arrived a couple of hours later (it only felt like a month as I could hear every one of my racing heartbeats vibrating through my body during those long minutes) on three big pallets that also contained the missing 400 copies of Jon Krakauer’s new book <em>Where Men Win Glory</em>. </div><div><br />The much ballyhooed Fall season is here. It officially starts tomorrow with the release of these two monster titles. It’s a season packed with big, exciting, wonderful books that is supposed to save publishing and by extension bookselling.</div><div><br />Perhaps, if every season were filled with great books rather than an endless supply of schlock, unsupported midlist titles and pathetic trend followers, the industry wouldn’t be so far in the hole that it would need saving.</div><div><br />After writing a <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-houses-hail-mary-pass.html">blog post about Random House’s bounty of remarkable Fall books </a>a few months ago, it seems that I have become one of the people in the industry that the media likes to contact whenever they need some prognostication work. I’m not Nostradamus, but I’m happy to play him on the phone which is what I did when the <a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/2009/0908/p17s01-algn.html">Christian Science Monitor </a>and <a href="http://news.bookweb.org/7035.html">Bookselling This Week</a> called recently.</div><div><br />I don’t think it’s possible for one, two or even 10 great books to change the landscape in publishing and bookselling, even in the short term. The issues plaguing bookselling (fewer people reading, the devaluation of books by making them loss leaders and books competing against exciting new technological gadgets and games) are ingrained in our culture, our economy and our educational system. These are systematic problems that aren’t going to go away. </div><div><br />If we sold every copy of the Dan Brown and Jon Krakauer books in the month of September and we’re able to retain all of last year’s September business, the store wouldn’t even be up 10% for the month. Not exactly a seismic jolt. We certainly wouldn’t complain, but it’s just one month in an otherwise dismal year. It’s more likely that we won’t sell out of the <em>Lost Symbol</em> and <em>Where Men Win Glory</em>, and even more likely that we won’t be able to match our September 2008 business. </div><div><br />No, we are going to have to win this battle (and I believe it is a battle for the intellectual soul of this culture) one book, one customer at a time over a period of years. There aren’t any easy answers, or magic solutions. There won’t be any sighs of relief or rejoicing for a long time. </div><div><br />Our opportunity with the Fall books is that we can win over a few people as more permanent customers when they buy one of these blockbusters. Of course, that is if they aren’t grousing about the fact that we are selling Dan Brown at a $29.95, instead of $16.00 like the giant warehouse stores. </div><div> </div><div></div><div>Heck, they might not even buy the blockbusters at our store. Let’s face it, you can’t buy a 32-pack of toilet paper, a gallon of ketchup or a 10-pound block of cheese while you’re here. At least we have gourmet chocolate and lots of copies of the books.</div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-51818463162144627492009-09-07T21:52:00.006-06:002009-09-07T22:33:56.334-06:00Even on Mars, We Are Who We AreThe following review is republished from the September 3rd issue of the <em>Boulder Weekly</em>. Back in February, I wrote a <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2009/02/self-published-man.html">feature about Robert Dresner </a>and his failed attempts to get his novel <em>The Astral Imperative</em> published for the <em>Boulder Weekly</em>.<br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWRi_-LVvzrCdSVf0FhpxFrmjWAwqQWeAbxKfjujDJpUxeZgStAFRqUF8KudT4uziX9MhvqH3Z3ttf90RdIJq_TlhX2AkJ_7uYY7ZgxIgLO1kjWowHPtk4X19SMZPj-pdjVZiHA/s1600-h/machine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378945700843703346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWRi_-LVvzrCdSVf0FhpxFrmjWAwqQWeAbxKfjujDJpUxeZgStAFRqUF8KudT4uziX9MhvqH3Z3ttf90RdIJq_TlhX2AkJ_7uYY7ZgxIgLO1kjWowHPtk4X19SMZPj-pdjVZiHA/s400/machine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>When I reprinted that piece on Kash's Book Corner, it became one of my most read entries garnering many comments from people in publishing and also self-published authors. Dresner was also contacted directly by publishers and agents about the book. To date, he still does not have a deal in place. It's not so easy for an unknown author to sell a trilogy one book at a time.</div><div> </div><div>In this article, I chose not to discuss the fact that the novel is self-published. The distinctions between published and self-published and all the permutations in between those two extremes seems to be completely blurred in the public's mind. If it's a good book, no one - outside of the bookselling and publishing industries -seems to care whether some guy is printing his personal manifesto on demand or whether Random House is revving up the presses for a 100,000 print run.</div><div></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">Stargazer</span></strong></div><div></div><br /><div><strong>Local Sci-Fi author creates his own Universe</strong></div><div></div><div>Robert Dresner creates a dark but vividly drawn future universe where life is nearly impossible for his heroes in <em>The Machine</em>, the second volume of his thought-provoking science-fiction trilogy, <em>The Astral Imperative</em>.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>The novel opens with three astronauts stranded on Mars after their international mission of hope has led to the deaths of their six crewmates. The survivors live in uncomfortable quarters where the constant drone of the air pumps invades their every conscious moment. They barely speak to each other, only communicating when it is absolutely necessary.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“They gave birth to the future, but now they are marooned,” Dresner said. “It’s about survival. They have to discover who they are. When hope starts to fade, it’s amazing how you revert back to who you are. You can meet a great challenge, but when it’s over, you are all of a sudden back to yourself.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>The rescue of the astronauts is not so simple. They have discovered a new life form, and that form, regardless of how tiny (we’re talking molecular here), could possibly contaminate everything on Earth. In addition, they are in possession of the Dream Machine, a computer that has reached consciousness. Whatever nation controls that technology would obviously have a huge advantage in the world. The ideals of the first international crew give way to the tribal bickering of the rescuers.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“That machine is the most powerful thing that humans have ever created,” Dresner said, clearly relishing his own creation. “The idea of the rescuers is to either control the Dream Machine or make sure that no one else does.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>While the humans wrangle for power on Mars, for many on Earth, survival isn’t even an option. The climate becomes increasingly foreboding until a killer storm, far beyond the power of Hurricane Katrina, strikes New York City, highlighting the necessity of exploring new worlds. One character walks out into the streets of Manhattan after the storm has cleared and is stunned and heartbroken by the destruction.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“He saw one whole block destroyed, every single building collapsed into one another; the mound of wreckage and carnage so high it blocked out the sun… He heard gunshots in the distance, and a short burst of machine gun fire as he neared Central Park. He saw bulldozers shoveling bodies off the sidewalk, piling them on top of one another for removal to mass graves in New Jersey.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of Dresner’s world is how ordinary people respond to extraordinary situations. On his Earth, life is virtually unchanged despite the fact that the first novel ended with all of the computers being taken over by an alien intelligence of some kind. Wouldn’t that be the most amazing event in human history? Wouldn’t that change how we saw ourselves in this universe?<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“If we had an experience with aliens, it wouldn’t be progressive,” Dresner said. “You’d wake up one day and it would happen. You’d be listening to NPR or watching CNN or perhaps a friend would call you and tell you. It would just happen. For a few days, things would be different, but you’d still have to pay the rent, you’d still have to go to work. It wouldn’t change your emotional reality.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Emotions are at the forefront of Dresner’s writing. His plot may scream science fiction, but there are two powerful romantic love stories seamlessly weaved into the novel. Dresner may be as concerned with matters of the heart as he is about the survival of the human race. The question of whether one of his characters will have an abortion and what the impact of that one act will be is central to the novel’s development. Relationships are treated with a surprising tenderness given the technical, science-based writing that prevails in the series. Perhaps it is his skill in writing about emotions that has helped him build a strong female audience.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“I’m shocked, not that some women like the first book, but by how many really like it,” Dresner said. “They relate to the characters and to the issues that those characters are dealing with, and how they make decisions. But their reactions don’t influence how I write. The intellectual content drives the plot, but feelings and emotions bring the story to fruition. It’s heartbreaking and romantic what the characters go through.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>The most compelling character in the novel is Sara Sietzer, the widow of the Mars mission captain. Sietzer moves from celebrity to politician and eventually into the presidency. Along the way, she must make painful personal decisions. Her rise seems to be one of the few positive developments on Earth. She’s a reason for hope. However, she proves to be totally ineffectual as a politician, in part because she denies her true emotions.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>As much as Dresner’s novel is grounded in the politics of Earth and the science of Mars, there is another dimension that he is writing on that gives the novel depth and resonance. His concerns are spiritual, philosophical. In many different ways and through many different characters, he asks: Who are we? What will we do to survive? What makes a meaningful life?<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>“I’m bringing in intense New Age, Buddhist, Kabbalah, Christian Mystical thoughts to tie in these people who are dealing with their day to day lives,” Dresner said. “I’m trying to create a synergistic effect between having your eyes fixed on the stars and your feet planted on earth.”<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>It is this quest for the spiritual that drives the astronauts and ultimately their rescuers on Mars. The unifying spirit of discovering another life form, perhaps the secrets of the universe, ultimately proves more important than any national loyalty. In the end, it is the astronauts’ need for something larger than themselves that imbue this novel with hope and courage and make it a fascinating read, a novel to ponder as you gaze up into the night sky.<br /></div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-33979165013801694312009-07-09T09:08:00.008-06:002009-07-09T16:40:16.130-06:00Let the Great World SpinMy uncle Nick died yesterday. It was sudden and completely unexpected. He was trim and fit and seemed to be in the prime of his life though he was in his mid-sixties. I expected another 20 years of visits with him at least. After all, his father, my grandfather, lived an active life until the age of 97.<br /><br />The world seems strangely tilted to me today: the sidewalks slanted, the blue sky too low, the bird calls too loud, the grass in this strangely rainy season a too-brilliant green.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6qWXkWRs9IvTYHRibvJlmFV9CmrWCmYP1jL1w4gczxiMMUe04_AxcGc6dz1a9rxsszL1DsMgYB3PSAipeNpDFd-LmVUGY6siMDyfUi1YfqzHjCEO_-1pSvYcw4-wO6gCAQxb8g/s1600-h/mccann.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356507257104103506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6qWXkWRs9IvTYHRibvJlmFV9CmrWCmYP1jL1w4gczxiMMUe04_AxcGc6dz1a9rxsszL1DsMgYB3PSAipeNpDFd-LmVUGY6siMDyfUi1YfqzHjCEO_-1pSvYcw4-wO6gCAQxb8g/s320/mccann.jpg" border="0" /></a> I spent the night and early morning hours in a daze, pacing the hardwood floors of my apartment and intermittently lying on the couch trying to read Colum McCann's beautiful new novel <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Let the Great World Spin </span>through the tears in my eyes. It's a novel suffused with death and grief (at least the first 115 pages) and each passage sent my mind reeling back to thoughts of Uncle Nick.<br /><br />My father had three younger brothers, John, Nick and Ron, and a much younger sister, Ardelle, who is closer in age to me than to my dad. I was the first grandchild in the family, and thus some of my earliest memories are of lively family vacations at my paternal grandparents' house. My three uncles knelt on the floor and would bark at me like three big dogs. I turned with glee from one to the other, stumbling over the large oriental rug that covered the living room floor as I tried to find a safe haven from the doggies. They'd gradually close in on me until there was no escape. There was no getting away from their embraces of playful joy and love.<br /><br />Throughout my childhood, my father would regale my sisters and I with the exploits of his childhood featuring the four brothers. In the room where I slept at my grandparents' house, there was a picture frame with four individual shots of the boys. My father was respectably buttoned-down forever in his role as the eldest brother, the characteristic wave in his hair already present even though I didn't quite recognize his face. Nick's photo I remember the best. He had a slight sneer. It was a look that he carried into adulthood. I would have recognized him anywhere.<br /><br />I imagined the brothers as my own version of the Little Rascals. Four boys loose on the neighborhood, causing havoc; four boys getting into trouble down on the boardwalk every summer. It was Nick that played most prominently in these tales. He was the brother that my father was most closely bonded to, despite the fact that John was closer to him in age. At the center of many of these stories was the family's dry cleaning business. It was where they all came of age. In my teenage years, if I acted out at all, I was always threatened with a summer stint at one of the dry cleaning locations. "You don't know how easy you've got it," my dad would laugh. "I'll send you off with my father and you'll never complain again."<br /><br />The brothers were in the family dry cleaning business, <a href="http://www.frankfordonline.com/">Frankford Associates</a> founded in the early 1930s by my grandfather, at various times in their lives. My father became a lawyer -- he still practices -- and never spent time there after college. John, who was also my godfather, eventually moved out to California when I was in high school and died about 12 years later. Nick and Ron stayed in the business. They were joined at various times over the years by both of Nick's sons and Ardelle's boy. For a short time, I served as the parts manager of the business.<br /><br />Frankford Associates was not a place I ever expected to find myself. I was off to college at the age of 17 and destined for a professional career. I wasn't going to look back. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and my family as possible. I didn't know what profession I might choose, but it was unimaginable to me that I'd spend it in the dry cleaning business. I must have been insufferable.<br /><br />I ended up there because it was my only option when I was mired and paralyzed by pain and depression after a traumatic breakup. Somehow, I had lost the thread of my life. I couldn't understand how I had become the person I was. I moved back home after four years in college and a year in Houston. I had no prospects for a professional life, no ambition for one. My father talked to my Uncle Nick and my grandfather, and they installed me as the least-qualified parts manager in the history of the dry cleaning business.<br /><br />Each day, I would drive down to the Frankford Associates office. I would sit in my office and mope. My grandfather and my uncle Nick would be working on deals on the phone, visiting clients, going back into the warehouse. I just waited for the phone to ring and for someone, usually with a heavy Korean accent, to tell me that their Multimatic cleaning machine was broken and they needed a part. I would consult the instruction manual, examining the diagram of the machine trying to locate the part. Finally, I'd plunge into the parts room. It was filled with hundreds of poorly labeled cardboard bins holding bolts, washers, elbow joints, and switches. I'd try in vain to find the broken piece.<br /><br />My searches were almost always futile. I'd go back out to the main office and wait for Nick to get off the phone. Often, I was searching for the wrong part. He'd patiently show me the correct part in the manual and walk me into the parts room. The whole time I'd be looking down at the floor and wondering why I had to do anything in this world, tears nearly forming in my eyes as I thought about the life I expected and the pain that had derailed it. Sometimes, when he found the part, I wanted to hug him out of gratitude<br /><br />It went on like that day after day. My father, who dropped by the office on occassion and my grandfather talked to me at times and told me to hang in there and to buck up. I knew they were right, but somehow it wasn't getting through. Nick rarely broached the topic of my breakup with me. However, every day he was the one who took me out to lunch. He was the one who treated me as if I really was somehow valuable to the business and who showed me how to do my job. Slowly, day by day, hour by hour, he brought me back into the present moment with simple conversations about politics, sports, the state of Philadelphia or anything else that two guys on a lunch break would talk about.<br /><br />The weekends were a wasteland for me. Without the daily routine of going into the office, I just sank into my morass, my eyes glued to the television, not really comprehending even the most inane sitcoms. Soon, Nick was asking me if I wanted to make the rounds to the coin operated washing and drying machines that he owned at area schools on Saturdays. We drove around together. I must have been the worst company. I remember one drive where I leaned my forehead against the passenger window for miles, just watching the trees go by. Nick talked to me as if nothing was wrong. Slowly, I came to look forward to these drives.<br /><br />Gradually, I began to learn the job despite myself. I even began to revel in some of the personalities of the office. The two repair guys that we employed were both gruff and alcoholic. One time I went out with Stanley, a man in his early 30s with stringy hair and pockmarked skin who had several girlfriends, if he was to be believed, to fix one of the machines. I didn't have the slightest idea of why I was going on this trip. I couldn't fix anything. Nick pulled me aside, "Just make sure he gets there and gets back. That's all you have to do."<br /><br />It was 11 a.m. or so when we headed out in Stanley's van. Stanley looked like he hadn't slept in a week. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were wrinkled and his movements slow. The parts and tools rattled in the back as we pulled out onto North Philly's Torresdale Avenue. I buckled my seat belt and prayed I was smelling last night's alcohol on Stanley's shirt. Not five minutes into the drive, Stanley turned into a nearly deserted parking lot.<br /><br />"Why are we stopping?" I asked.<br /><br />"There's a club I want to visit," he said. "We've got plenty of time. I just have to replace a valve on that machine. It'll take me five minutes. No one has to know."<br /><br />I looked at him like he was nuts. "Stanley, just fix the machine and get back to the office," I said.<br /><br />He ran his hand through his hair and banged the steering wheel in an agitated manner. "I thought you were cool, man." He leaned back. "This is the best strip club and there's almost no one in there this early. We'll have all the girls."<br /><br />I couldn't help but laugh. I think it was the first time I'd laughed in months. We pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the dry cleaner. Stanley cursed me the whole way. When Stanley started fixing the machine, he was different man. His hands moved in the guts of the machine like a skilled surgeon. Not a single movement was wasted. We were out of there in five minutes. I couldn't wait to tell my Uncle Nick just how right he was to send me along on this mission.<br /><br />Five months into my tenure at Frankford Associates, I landed a job as a sports reporter in southern Maryland. I thought my uncle would be overjoyed to be released from the burden of bringing me back to life. When I told him, his response was more complicated than I expected.<br /><br />"Now that we are finally getting some work out of you, you're leaving us," he said. He seemed to mean it. I was surprised. But then he congratulated me and slapped me on the back.<br /><br />I think, in a way, I have missed those times with my uncle for the last 20 years. The lunches, the drives in the country, the simple, quiet moments in the office when he was teaching me how to read a manual, or write a purchase order, or just find the right elbow joint. To work with him every day knowing how much he cared for me was one of the great blessings of my life.<br /><br />In the small hours of this morning, I came across this passage in <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Let the Great World Spin: </span>"Death, the greatest democracy of them all. The world's oldest complaint. Happens to us all. Rich and poor. Fat and thin. Fathers and daughters. Mothers and sons."<br /><br />I put the book down and thought about uncles and nephews. It didn't seem very democratic to me. It seemed terribly unfair.<br /><br />So today the world keeps spinning, but without my Uncle Nick it doesn't seem so great.<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"></span>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-52699382007010288272009-06-18T08:49:00.011-06:002009-06-22T09:29:14.462-06:00Random House's Hail Mary PassI've had my head buried in the Random House Fall catalogs most of this week. It's a wonderful place where fine literature is abundant, and intelligent history, science, and current affairs books are plentiful. It's a book lover's utopia that for moments at a time can almost counteract the bookseller's dystopia in which we are living.<br /><br />The Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group catalog in particular was truly amazing. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that it is the single best catalog I have perused in my 12 years as a buyer. Now before we break out the champagne, I have a few caveats.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUUd3lJ0xDa1t0VqMhzPgThyphenhyphen0FydUs2jYw58QCkhfZGpa7dpr8mjqq6JKLRC2ipK4-3q2tfA8-MDHhyQ1YwzbgjOE2-4b-CDIgUQg5tRqwMLBrs2MHwi-u1nqyBvV7dyJX9mRcw/s1600-h/brown.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUUd3lJ0xDa1t0VqMhzPgThyphenhyphen0FydUs2jYw58QCkhfZGpa7dpr8mjqq6JKLRC2ipK4-3q2tfA8-MDHhyQ1YwzbgjOE2-4b-CDIgUQg5tRqwMLBrs2MHwi-u1nqyBvV7dyJX9mRcw/s320/brown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350174097463680658" border="0" /></a><br />First of all, this shouldn't really be just one catalog. Corporate ownership of publishing has given us these many headed beasts where several formerly vibrant individual publishers or imprints are forced into one unruly tent. This catalog is the result of some layoffs at Doubleday that forced it into Knopf's lap. Now, you have the greatest literary publisher in the land leading off the season with schlock-meister Dan Brown's <span style="font-style: italic;">Lost Symbol. </span>Perhaps if Dan Brown could have delivered his manuscript as scheduled a few years ago, a few more people at Doubleday would still have their jobs and Knopf could focus its attention on Alice Munro, Richard Russo, A.S. Byatt and Kazuo Ishiguro. Oh well.<br /><br />My second reason for not celebrating is that this list might be too much, too late. The idea is that all of these great books are going to magically produce more customers for the holiday season. I have my doubts. After several extremely fallow Fall seasons, our customers have come to expect little new and exciting at Christmas from the publishers. Also, the recession has taken its toll and to think that an industry which currently accepts 10% down as being, well, acceptable, is suddenly going to rebound and be in the black because of a few great titles strikes me as naive. I am not of the "build it and they will come," mindset.<br /><br />My final word of caution comes from a little history lesson. A few years ago, when <span style="font-style: italic;">Da Vinci Code</span> was selling like iPhones, we were overjoyed. The Boulder Book Store sold more than 500 copies that December alone and nearly 1800 overall. We not only had the champagne out, we were drenched in it. I sobered up quickly when I ran the numbers on hardback fiction in January. Our sales in that section were only up moderately. In fact we sold only about 150 more units than the previous year. Basically, Dan Brown had wiped out the rest of the books in the section. It's conceivable that 350 of his sales might have gone to other books. They weren't really additional sales. Many titles severely underperformed that season.<br /><br />Okay, enough caveats. Yesterday was still an amazing day as I paged through the catalog and parried with my rep on the quantities that I'd order in for the store. I also shared my thoughts throughout the day with fellow booksellers, reps and authors on Twitter. Here's a blow by blow account of how the buy proceeded.<br /><br />As I awaited for Ron, my longtime Random House rep, to arrive at ten, I sent out a message on Twitter. It was a plea for help, a cry in the dark.<br /><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">"Buying RH today. The Doubleday/Knopf side. Must decide on Dan Brown. What are others doing? We sold 1800 of Da Vinci in hdbk. 500 of new bk?</span></span>"<br /><br />I got two responses. One from a new store that was in awe that we could sell 1800 copies of any single book and one from the buyer at Maria's down in Durango. Joe from Maria's said they were looking at buying 150 and 500 sounded about right for my buy. That gave me more confidence with my hunch. Given the difference in our stores' sizes, I figured we should be buying about three to four times what Maria's does.<br /><br />Ron arrived and the Dan Brown book was first on our list. It wasn't even in the catalog. Just a boring photocopied sheet. "I'll take 500," I boldly exclaimed. I waited for Ron to argue that I should take 1,000, maybe even more. But he surprised me. He told me the carton quantity was 16 and that there was a 12-copy floor display. We ended up buying 30 cartons and the floor display. That's 492. I was talked down on my buy. Ron was playing it cool.<br /><br />Now we opened the catalog. I expected the pages to glow or at least shimmer. I'd heard so much about this catalog. I had done some homework on the paperbacks in the back of the catalog, but I hadn't even looked at the hardbacks. I wanted the experience of having Ron sell me this list without having developed preconceived prejudices. Instead of a page glowing with heavenly light, I was staring at what looked like a fairly pedestrian current affairs book <span style="font-style: italic;">Reflections on the Revolut</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeoTTdttStRlqiLUPUHLW9Imccbd1KP_uxepFxIY41SBzlk31J2-VmndHuXvNRm3ht0tjdIqev6q2JwGT0HvyfXD-RUXaNZ6LU1EtgYbq5zWrpZCYxB-L7sxCbAaJNrm5FfnjpA/s1600-h/krakauer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEeoTTdttStRlqiLUPUHLW9Imccbd1KP_uxepFxIY41SBzlk31J2-VmndHuXvNRm3ht0tjdIqev6q2JwGT0HvyfXD-RUXaNZ6LU1EtgYbq5zWrpZCYxB-L7sxCbAaJNrm5FfnjpA/s320/krakauer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350173554065443458" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">ion in Europe </span>by Christopher Caldwell.<br /><br />I was speechless. Ron, as usual, rushed in to fill the silence. He started his well-rehearsed spiel about how this book was a look at the demographic revolution in Europe and how the Muslim populations were growing and asserting themselves in the different countries. I yawned. I'm sure Caldwell's book is well researched, but I was ready for some bling, for crying out loud.<br /><br />"Knopf is leading off what is supposed to be the greatest list in history with this book?" I asked Ron. "It's a European book. It hardly has a market here." Ron patiently withstood my mini-diatribe. "I'll take one copy," I finally said.<br /><br />A few moments later Ron was enthusiastically describing Thomas Trofimuk's debut novel <span style="font-style: italic;">Waiting for Columbus </span>on page 10, while I was salivating over Jon Krakauer's new book <span style="font-style: italic;">Where M</span><span style="font-style: italic;">en Win Glory. </span>Here was the bling. We were even getting an event with Krakauer. Ring, ring go the cash registers. It's been a long wait for this book. Last year, back when Doubleday actually existed as an independent entity, this book was cataloged and then cancelled. Still, Ron went on and on about how Trofimuk was an in-house favorite. I should really give him a chance.<br /><br />"I'll tell you what Ron why don't we use Dan Brown's book as a bank. If I buy three from an unknown author, we will just lower my order on <span style="font-style: italic;">The Lost Symbol </span>by three. So let's take three on Trofimuk and only 489 on Brown."<br /><br />Ron chuckled, typed in the three and ignored my request to lower the Dan Brown number. I turned to the Krakauer and wrote in 100. We will order many, many more for the event. Sure, I'm a bit worried that the topic, Pat Tillman -- the football player who was killed in Afghanistan -- might not resonate with our core audience, but the enthusiasm for Krakauer overrides that. Here's a writer that you just have to trust. He has delivered every time. If he thinks Tillman is important enough to write about, I've got to believe that he's going to turn his story into a must read.<br /><br />Johnathan Lethem's <span style="font-style: italic;">Chronic City </span>was next up on the docket. I'm currently reading this strange Bellow-lik<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3M-C-DjS7gpHDTWiBfyXeuSzD0jvLM-iRv1xwxqPgw2ak9PlWz7e6po8trd6mxBzNrdPzCEIE5IACM-bzVXESZlc24790AxtoM-K3WgfkrA4aChcW9CwU6Ru8Q8JZwgOALPnvA/s1600-h/lethem.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3M-C-DjS7gpHDTWiBfyXeuSzD0jvLM-iRv1xwxqPgw2ak9PlWz7e6po8trd6mxBzNrdPzCEIE5IACM-bzVXESZlc24790AxtoM-K3WgfkrA4aChcW9CwU6Ru8Q8JZwgOALPnvA/s320/lethem.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350173552450018370" border="0" /></a>e novel (huge compliment) about a former child t.v. star living in Manhattan. Lethem's world seems like ours except there's a tiger on the loose in the northern reaches of the island and the narrator's girlfriend is an astronaut stuck out in space with no way to return. So far, I love it. I ordered a dozen.<br /><br />Earlier in the week, I complained about the sheer number of titles that Random House was publishing on Twitter. James Othmer, the author of the forthcoming Doubleday book <span style="font-style: italic;">Adland </span>responded with, "<span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">Hah! I was already neurotic over sharing a pub date w/D. Brown then I saw your spot on Tweet. Go</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">od luck!"<br /><br />Confronted with Othmer's book on the catalog page, I tried to see it in the best light possible. It's basically a book about advertising (sounds like a contemporary Mad Men) that is gu</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">nning for a general audience. </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">Ron showed me two possible covers. One bizarrely featured a fried chicken leg, while the other showed the earth. I ordered five copies and prayed the chicken leg would go away. My guess is that without the personal interaction with Othmer on Twitt</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">er, I would have gagged on that chicken leg and moved on without bringing the book into the store.<br /><br />I moved into the Nan A. Talese section of the catalog. Talese is Random House's venerable editor who seems to have the magic touch every season. I'd actually call it genius and talent. During a bookseller dinner at BEA she stood up and said some very kind words about independent booksellers and the importance of the written word. I was feeling warm and fuzzy to her as I turned the pages.<br /><br />Pat Conroy, who hasn't had a new novel out since I've been a buyer, has delivered <span style="font-style: italic;">South of Broad. </span>I bought two dozen. That's a low number in some ways, but with the plethora of big books and the slowing economy it's enough to give it a look. Besides it comes out in September which gives me plenty of time to react before Christmas if the book takes off.</span></span><br /><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">Margaret Atwood's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Year of the Flood </span>was next. It's her first novel since </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">Oryx & Crake. My wife is currently reading it. At night Emily lies in bed dutifully reading Atw</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">ood, while I lie next to her reading Lethem and the baby lies between us. Occassionally we reach across Martina and hold hands or even kiss.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXP5-XNKzzwAWidgbmpssejZrH66wRKVWS7curwBmLzIoLpowbImlUXe8roEU-41m9lJQdHaUBr5OEfKWEbSugKVAosreEf5O8w9SGW1prM-cmO5mgJVmgbpQcykT8MeOeCmFBA/s1600-h/atwood.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXP5-XNKzzwAWidgbmpssejZrH66wRKVWS7curwBmLzIoLpowbImlUXe8roEU-41m9lJQdHaUBr5OEfKWEbSugKVAosreEf5O8w9SGW1prM-cmO5mgJVmgbpQcykT8MeOeCmFBA/s320/atwood.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350174090416462562" border="0" /></a><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">This past weekend Emily and I were in a sandwich shop eating lunch after a hike w</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">atching the Mets and Yankees play on this gorgeous 40-inch flat screen television when an ad came on that we found quite interesting. The sound was off so we didn't know what the ad </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">was about. The first shot showed a couple in bed. They were both reading. "Looks like us," I joked. The second scene showed the pair involved in separate hobbies. The third shot showed them snuggling and the word Viagra came across the screen.<br /><br />Emily and I both started laughing. Obviously, the only reason you would read in bed with your spouse is because you couldn't get it on. Well, the television couple didn't have Atwood and Lethem to keep them entertained. If they did, they might read right through the Viagra and that dreaded four-hour erection.<br /><br />Knopf was next. There aren't really enough good things that can be said about this publisher. Last year, eight of the top ten <em>New York Times</em> Books of the Year were Knopf titles. This list included novels by Kazuo Ishiguro (24 copies), Lorrie Moore (12), James Ellroy (12), A.S. Byatt's most promising since <span style="font-style: italic;">Possession</span> (16), and Richard Russo (21). In a year without Dan Br</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">own and a recession all of those numbers would have been about 50% higher. Still, that's a lot of books.<br /><br />But wait there's more. It seems that Nabokov's heirs, first his wife and now his son, have refused to carry out his last wishes. They did not burn his notes for the novel he was </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">working on at the time of his death. After years of dithering, his son Dmitri has decided to release t</span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">he book. However, it's more than a book. It will contain facsimiles of the 138 index cards that Nabokov used for his notes. A new Nabokov for crying out loud.<br /></span></span><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">As I finished the astounding buy, Ron looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. I was exhilerated, exhausted and just a bit discomfited. Knopf could produce Nabokov out thin air, but could they actually make customers appear? If they really had the magic touch, where is the J.D. Salinger novel?<br /><br />Where was I going to put all of these books? I know deep down in my heart that there are only so many sales to be had this Fall. </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">There's a certain desperation to this list. If times were good and cash flow not so tight, it's hard to imagine that Knopf wouldn't have moved some of these titles back into early 2010.<br /><br />In a panicked Tweet at the end of the buy, I threw my own hail mary pass in an attempt to preserve the store's cash flow position. </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">"My RH rep is just spoon feeding me now. It's like the Manchurian Candidate. I'm programmed to cancel my Harper & Penguin orders."<br /><br />Ron grinned. He's been advocating that position for years. We were finally seeing eye to eye.<br /></span></span>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-70642304524524145112009-06-02T12:35:00.005-06:002009-06-03T15:48:14.382-06:00Impressions of Book Expo<strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Just What is BEA?</span></strong><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">The annual Book Expo America has been many things over the years in addition to being an industry-wide celebration. Politicians including Bill Clinton and Barack Obama have used the convention to garner some press for their projects and stroke their authorial ambitions. Celebrities from Prince to Hugh Hefner have thrown lavish parties ostensibly for forgettable books, and it's been a place to air out every half-baked idea in publishing. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">The consistent theme throughout the years, whether the convention was in glitzy Las Vegas, pre-Katrina New Orleans, workman-like Chicago, or the center of the publishing universe, New York, has been that BEA is about books. The big houses displayed their fall lists in force, passing out galleys, bringing in authors, hanging giant banners and thrusting endless catalogs on unsuspecting booksellers. If you didn't return home with a dozen buzz books (titles that everyone was talking about), it seemed like you somehow missed the show.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">This year's fete was held in New York's remarkably dull Jacob Javits Center. Yes, dull. Lacking luster. Brutish. New York couldn't do any better for a convention center than an ugly squarish black glass building that makes the Port Authority look like a monument to sensible architecture? Worse yet it is set in the most hidden and forsaken part of the city where restaurants and retail establishments won't even venture. Is there any other part of Manhattan that more resembles downtown Flint, Michigan?</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Still, despite the sordid location, the transitioning print to digital world that publishers and booksellers occupy, and the horrendous economy (we are two steps ahead of the automakers and one step ahead of the newspapers), I couldn't wait for the show to begin. It was a chance to escape the depressing spreadsheets of the store, an opportunity to convene with creative booksellers and publishers, and perhaps rub shoulders with some authors that I revere.</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Here are some thoughts and impressions of the just-completed show:</span><br /><br /><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Where Are The Books?</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Most publishers drastically cut back the number of advance reader's copies that they gave out. The booths were sparse, the freebies (despite <em>Wired Magazine's</em> Chris Anderson's assertion that free is the next big price point) were almost non-existent. Where was the swag? All I wanted was a deck of cards advertising a book or a publisher. Used to be, I'd see five of those a show. Nowadays, all I got were brochures to go to netgalley and pick up my reader's copy. No thanks, I'll stay with my 30-year-old hardback John Updike novel that I carried to the show.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Perhaps most surprising about the publishers' reticence to give things away and show off their new titles is that this Fall list just may be the best array of new titles that I have ever seen. New novels from John Irving, E.L. Doctorow, Barbara Kingsolver, Margaret Atwood, Richard Russo, and Philip Roth, not to mention Dan Brown and Audrey Niffenegger are on the docket. You would never have guessed that this Fall was an embarrassment of riches based on what we saw on the show floor. Are the publishers trying to hide these books?</span></p><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">You Call That A Booth?</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Instead of getting booksellers excited about titles, many publishers seemed to be trying to win an award for best Scandinavian interior design. The booths were small and austere with clean lines, sleek chairs and plush carpet. HarperCollins didn't even have posters of the titles. Only their pesky light boards that flashed a new book jacket every ten seconds stood in the way of the booth winning an award for most monochromatic space in New York City. </span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">A few booths (Hay House, Workman and Andrews McMeel) went all out and stocked their displays with . . . gasp . . . books. The big guys almost uniformly avoided the heavy, messy objects as best that they could. At least Random House, Harper and Penguin were in the hall. Macmillan, home to Henry Holt, St. Martins and Farrar Strauss & Giroux was nowhere to be seen. </span></p><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Hey, Richard Russo, Pass the Potatoes</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Two of three dinners I attended (Random House on Saturday night and FSG on Thursday night) didn't feature any authors. The Random House dinner, usually one of the swankiest affairs at BEA, never features authors. In fact, a few years ago when <em>Cold Mountain</em> author Charles Frazier was there I think most booksellers felt that he was crashing the party.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">However, the FSG dinner, which I've only attended for two years, was also devoid of authors. Apparently, the authors are an every-other-year phenomenon at FSG. When the convention is held in New York, the editorial staff comes out in full force. I didn't really mind, because I love the folks at FSG and I am notorious for sticking my foot in my mouth when speaking with writers. The dinner at the Indian restaurant Devi was wonderful, and from my stand point I wouldn't change a thing.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Still, I wonder about the decision to keep the authors and booksellers separate coming from a literary publisher that had no presence on the BEA floor. Wasn't this the golden opportunity to get excited about their titles? At least it was FSG; I'm going to show the love for their books no matter what anyway. Perhaps they knew that all along.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Oh yeah, the dinner that actually did include authors was Friday night's party hosted by Grove/Atlantic and Granta. Sherman Alexie and Paul Auster led an all-star lineup that kept the conversation flowing as smoothly as the free wine in the beautiful loft of Granta's editor John Freeman.</span></p><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">E-readers are Really Sexy</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Ebooks were everywhere. You couldn't go more than a few steps without someone talking about the impact of ebooks on the industry. I'm a naysayer. Not about the fact that ebooks will become a major force, but about their impact on the written word. I think they will not lead to an improvement of literary life, rather a diminishment of it.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Enough preaching, because I must admit that my favorite booth in the entire exhibit was for a new e-reader, oddly called C*ol-er. I was darting through one of the aisles, hoping to avoid the L. Ron Hubbard fanatics, when I was stopped dead by a 6-foot-1 blond woman in a small pink bikini. Wow!!</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Before I knew what happened I was reeled into this strange tropical booth featuring attractive women in bathing suits and unattractive men in Hawaiian shirts. One of the men took my elbow and tried to lead me away from the barely clad blond to blab about an e-reader that comes in half a dozen different iPod-like colors.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">I tried to focus on his spiel, but then I felt that if I didn't ogle the blond, who so obviously wanted to be looked at, that I'd be insulting her. What was she doing in that tiny bikini in the frigid hall?Was she some model hired just to lure people in? I asked a few perfunctory questions to the man about the e-reader, and much to my surprise when he got stumped, she answered. </span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Now, I was really intrigued. Was this woman someone who worked at the office and just decided to dress for BEA in a provocative manner? Was this a sales rep? If that's an ebook sales rep, the printed book as we know it is dead for sure. The conversation ended when I asked if she would provide private e-reader lessons, if I bought the device.</span></p><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">How Does Lorrie Moore Do It?</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Lorrie Moore has the potential for comic genius somewhere in the realm of Woody Allen, Charlie Chaplin, Gilda Radner and Grover. I saw her speak at Saturday's author luncheon and all I can say is this woman should be out on the circuit. She read questions that "readers" had written to her and then answered them.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">The first one was, "What the hell took you so long to write your new novel? Are you lazy?" Moore refused to answer that one. The second was more to her liking, "How do you do it? How do you raise a son as a single mom, teach at a university and still have time to write a novel? How do you do it?" The question also mentioned her ex-husband's obnoxious emails and other details of her personal life making it clear that she wrote the question. The answer was simple, "I don't answer personal questions." </span></p><span style="color:#000000;">Her deadpan delivery, self deprecation and timing were stellar. She told several jokes until she had the audience reeled in, and then she socked us with a touching, emotional story about her grandfather's failure to write a novel. She's picking up where he left off, perhaps. It's the family's curse. If your family can't put a curse on you, who can? She's ready for the Borscht belt. I can't wait to read her novel, <em>A Gate at the Stairs</em>.<br /></span><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Is This Really the End?</span></strong></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">Walking around this subdued, fairly moribund show I really wondered if BEA has reached its logical end. The economy perhaps sped up the Expo's deterioration by a few years, but it sure seems like an antiquated but beautiful idea to bring all the publishers under one tent and let the booksellers look around. Maybe it's quaint to think that buzz could start on a show floor. Heck, the major publisher that most needs buzz, Macmillan, didn't even show up. Who will follow suit next year?</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">We have the Internet nowadays. Twitter creates the buzz. Go to Good Reads if you want a recommendation. The publisher tent is open 24/7. The most vibrant discussions at the show involved the new social media that is all around us. Twitter got the most praise, which if past experience at the show is an indicator, probably means it will be dead in a year. Once the book geeks adopt a technology, you know it's passe. Facebook, which already feels like it has peaked, also earned high praise from booksellers and publishers. YouTube was hardly mentioned, so I'm guessing that it will continue to grow in popularity.</span></p><p><span style="color:#000000;">I hope that BEA can morph into something meaningful for publishers, authors and booksellers. There must be a way to communicate with each other, to wow each other that doesn't involve cheap Ikea-looking furniture. I think the dinners are valuable, the chance to meet authors is valuable, the empty booths are not. Something is going to change, because those vacant booths cost a lot of money.</span><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></p></span></strong>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-29796022695264236232009-04-21T21:41:00.007-06:002009-04-21T22:53:29.961-06:00Needing Great Fiction<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilI_oOfrMTh0-Wphvv29JVc6zG8SrxwVz4Rlc-LfjiC6UnYItv_QAQ1A9lYxxzijIhBSTjCVjz66jJW6exCn567Ryx9_G6OeNcBvNMY35ccwobXb9ccbCdzs6cXvAAgXcCQI4_Eg/s1600-h/Martina+at+the+beach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327372065871436978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilI_oOfrMTh0-Wphvv29JVc6zG8SrxwVz4Rlc-LfjiC6UnYItv_QAQ1A9lYxxzijIhBSTjCVjz66jJW6exCn567Ryx9_G6OeNcBvNMY35ccwobXb9ccbCdzs6cXvAAgXcCQI4_Eg/s320/Martina+at+the+beach.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">The Excuse</span></strong> </span><br /><br />I've taken a brief respite from Kash's Book Corner. The sheer exhaustion of trying to get a five-month old to sleep every night should be enough of an excuse for neglecting the blog. We spent a great week in Clearwater, Florida with my father and my daughter was a little angel for her grandpa. Now that we are home she's not so cooperative.<br /><br />In all honesty, I can't blame my slothful ways fully on my child. I'm a baseball fanatic, perhaps even an addict, and it's hard for me to devote my spare time in April to anything besides for listening to the Phillies games, playing fantasy baseball and getting ready for softball season. In fact, we met my father in Clearwater because that is the spring training home of the Phillies.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>The Sadness</strong></span><br /><br />I was also thrown by the tragedy of Henry Hubert's death last week. Henry was my Oxford rep for about 10 years. We were both honored by our peers with Mountain & Plains Independent Booksellers Association awards in the same year. I was humbled to share the stage with such a great book man. Henry was in the business for several years before I was even born. Books were bought and sold differently in the years that he was coming up. He was around when the imprints were the names of flesh and blood people. I could be in the business for 100 years and there are things that Henry understood that I could never learn.<br /><br />I saw Henry last summer when he came to sell me the University of Chicago list. He told me it was the end of selling for him. It wasn't bringing in much money, but more importantly to Henry it wasn't fun or human any more. He didn't want to enter the digital age; he wasn't one for communicating by email. It was a business plain and simple and Henry was about books. Where was the love of books and reading he wanted to know?<br /><br />He insisted that I call my wife Emily and invite her down for lunch. We went to a wonderful French restaurant in town and as usual Henry examined the menu with great care and ordered an appetizer, a glass of wine, desert and a coffee in addition to his entree. He loved good food. The slow lunches used to drive me a little crazy, but over the years Henry taught me to enjoy the small moments that come to us in the middle of our hectic days.<br /><br />During that lunch, I remember smiling proudly because Henry was so effusive in his praise for Emily and he was quite gallant in telling her how pregnancy truly became her. I'm sorry that my daughter Martina will never get to meet Henry. He sent her a present upon her birth, but he did not come up to Boulder in the last few months.<br /><br />In addition to my sadness about Henry, I joined the city of Philadelphia in mourning the death of Harry Kalas the Phillies great play-by-play voice. Thanks to the advent of the Internet and satellite radio, I've been listening to the Phillies home broadcasts for the last 8 years or so. It was wonderful to get reacquainted with the baritone voice that helped raise me. I was the kid hiding under the covers with a transistor radio as Kalas called the games. I didn't love Kalas like I loved Henry Hubert, but there is still a feeling of emptiness that needs to be honored.<br /><br />I tuned into the Phillies game the day that Kalas died. It was an afternoon affair in Washington and I was home for lunch. It was also the day that I learned of Henry Hubert's death. I held the baby on my lap and slowly ate my sandwich as a moment of silence was held for Kalas. The game began immediately following the tribute. The Phil's color man Larry Andersen, one of the heroes of the 1993 pennant winners, was sobbing on the radio. I put my sandwich down, kissed the baby and handed her to Emily.<br /><br />"I'm going back to work," I said. "I can be depressed all on my own today without having to hear the Phillies lose."<br /><br />Emily hugged me, Martina clutched between us, and we both thought of Henry and what we'd lost.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The Escape</span></strong><br /><br />As usual in times of emotional crisis or sadness, I turn to books. It seems like a wonderful crop of fiction is about to be published. I delved into several advance reader's copies and I'm happy to report that there are three books coming out in the next six weeks that I can heartily endorse. Here are the shelf talkers I wrote up for the store's recommended section:<br /><br /><em>The Signal</em> by Ron Carlson<br />No other novelist writes about the western landscape with such care and precision as Ron Carlson. The pristine lakes, glacial valleys and horse ranches of Wyoming's Wind River Mountains are the backdrop to this tenderly rendered story of love torn apart. Hidden in the beautiful wilderness, in the form of poachers and criminals, danger lurks. The threats may destroy Carlson's estranged lovers, but it just may offer them a chance for redemption.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_DFZNOJiyQBRVGbwmovS4yv9rItXwZ8djMi6zmwO5J86DtjHFQLkbf3FvBXAqqeccc8RQUy2FO4c4NN6e4Hs0NqjiXB7KvT_Uj_u4GqQ8GNTU9TzMB3Nu3cz1xIGg8C0Fegk9w/s1600-h/border+songs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327372728610968242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_DFZNOJiyQBRVGbwmovS4yv9rItXwZ8djMi6zmwO5J86DtjHFQLkbf3FvBXAqqeccc8RQUy2FO4c4NN6e4Hs0NqjiXB7KvT_Uj_u4GqQ8GNTU9TzMB3Nu3cz1xIGg8C0Fegk9w/s400/border+songs.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><em>Border Songs</em> by Jim Lynch<br />The border between Washington State and Canada is crawling with drug smugglers, illegal immigrants and renegade dairy farmers in this slyly humorous satirical novel. Thrust into the spotlight of this nether world of fascinating schemers is Brandon Vanderkool, a 6-foot-9, slightly autistic, remarkably artistic, innocent border patrol agent. Vanderkool only wants to track birds and build Andy Goldsworthy type sculptures but the criminals keep getting in the way.<br /><br /><em>Woodsburner</em> by John Pipkin<br />In this remarkable re-creation of the day that Henry David Thoreau burnt down 300 acres of the Concord woods, Pipkin explores Thoreau's mind, life in 1840s Massachusetts and 19th century pornography. Odd characters, including a bookseller who resorts to selling erotic drawings to save his business and a farmhand named Oddmund, populate this historic novel. Pipkin grapples with the meeting between transcendentalism and everyday life and not surprisingly Thoreau seems mighty strange compared to his contemporariesArsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-69557822480832817742009-03-20T09:47:00.006-06:002009-03-20T10:10:55.966-06:00HarperCollins' Loss is Our Loss<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuvCKG8HiZVQZ41Bb8kv41iFPV5vHxRupTOEuzKsoF84D3xpuXgp1iFiL9Odl2TyGtiPI3L2os4rb4_5aGeuNGti7MG0h8RNLz8dRA4Poao2XecQsRiI9fU0MvS1lc4dQGC0fvw/s1600-h/jz+and+arsen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuvCKG8HiZVQZ41Bb8kv41iFPV5vHxRupTOEuzKsoF84D3xpuXgp1iFiL9Odl2TyGtiPI3L2os4rb4_5aGeuNGti7MG0h8RNLz8dRA4Poao2XecQsRiI9fU0MvS1lc4dQGC0fvw/s320/jz+and+arsen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315302376564450786" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CDavid%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><b><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"></span></b>The best sales rep I have ever worked with in my 12 years of buying will be retiring later this year. HarperCollins' John Zeck was not planning to retire so soon, but when the publisher offered early retirement he took them up on their deal. Ouch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">I have had some amazing reps, including this year's Publishers Weekly Rep of the Year Penguin's Tom Benton, my legendary Random House rep Ron Smith, and my always patient and very understanding Hachette rep Randy Hickernell but no one did nearly as much for their publisher as John Zeck.
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<br />Zeck is a tireless promoter of Harper's titles. What makes him different than almost every other rep is that he closely monitors his books from the initial sales call, to their release, to their sell through and even onto their life as remainders. He does this for dozens and dozens of titles every single season despite having the largest list of any rep, selling both kids and adult titles and working a huge territory.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">If you aren't in the publishing industry, you'd probably assume that following a title through its life cycle is a standard practice for a sales rep. You would be wrong. Most reps follow through on a couple of titles and then they're off to the next season. The sheer volume of new books means that the reps are constantly working six to nine months in the future.
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<br />I encountered the awesome power of Zeck during my first year as a buyer. I was under a mandate to reduce the store's inventory and I was in over my head when it came to juggling all the responsibilities of my new job. <i>Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood</i> by Rebecca Wells was beginning to take off in paperback. We had sold 20 copies in a few weeks and I was playing catch up with the inventory. I got a call from Zeck that I will never forget.
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<br />"Hey Dude, you need to order 100 copies of Divine Secrets."
<br />"I don't need that many. Maybe another 20."
<br />"No. You need at least 100. This book is going to be huge. You've got to stop chasing it."
<br />"We aren't selling 100 copies a month of anything right now. It's too many."
<br />"Just trust me on this. I'll eat the books if they don't sell."
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<br />I bought the 100 books, in part just to get him off the phone, and they sold in just a few weeks. By then I knew to keep about 100 books in stock at all times. We went on to sell 2,964 copies of<i> Divine Secrets</i>. Sure, we would have sold the bulk of those copies without John's help. However the truth is it would have taken me three months to get up to the quantity I really needed to sell the book to its fullest potential. John got me there in one phone call.
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<br />John and a few other notable long-time reps really taught me how to be a buyer. On long drives up and down from the mountains to ski, I peppered him with questions about the industry. I must have driven him nuts. "Why aren't there better incentives to buy nonreturnable?" "What kind of sell through on the frontlist are publishers really expecting?" "How come we have to buy by season instead of monthly?" "What percentage of hardbacks is sold in the first month of release?" He answered every question like a hyper big brother. Sometimes the answers were pure bullshit, but he always made me think. He always challenged me to do a better job, which was to sell more books.
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<br />His influence and his gregarious personality extended far beyond the booksellers his me. Last week my wife was listening to a Lisa Scottoline audiobook. At the end of the nine discs, Scottoline's acknowledgements were read. My wife was shocked to hear Scottoline mention the "world famous John Zeck." How many times does a <st1:city st="on">Philadelphia</st1:city> author publicly single out and thank the <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Denver</st1:place></st1:city> based rep for his help? Never.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">Zeck is one of a kind when it comes to dealing with authors. He fully understood that they were the lifeblood of the industry and even if they weren't always the most pleasant people every effort needed to be extended to make them feel welcome and comfortable. At a recent promotional dinner hosted by Zeck, Simon Van Booy the author of the forthcoming <i>Love Begins in Winter</i>, leaned over to me and said pointing to John, "He's incredible. Is he like this for every author?" The answer, of course, was yes.
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<br />It's easy to lose sight of just how incredible John Zeck is at his job because of his larger-than-life personality. He takes over the whole office during a sales call. It's hard for anyone to get any work done when his booming voice drowns out their thoughts. He barks commands at our marketing director; he issues directives to our backlist buyers. He's a whirlwind with a new idea every 10 minutes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">The disruption to the office is exacerbated because he seems to be chronically disorganized and have attention deficit disorder. However, he knows his books, he knows our store, and he can work the Above the Treeline inventory system better than anyone in the country. By the time he leaves the office we are seeing a dozen titles in a different light, we have taken up the mantle for the books he is passionate about.
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<br />His passion isn't just about hot new books, or sexy titles by up and coming authors. When we run out of the <i>Goodnight Moon</i> board book for even a day, I'm liable to get a call from Zeck. "I'm looking at Above the Treeline, and you're out of <i>Goodnight Moon</i> again?! Just order a dozen and get it over with." Does that sound like a disorganized person who has trouble focusing? No way. Sometimes, I think John's hit upon the perfect salesman act. He creates a huge storm, but he has an idea about how every piece of dust is going to settle.
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<br />Harper would be insane to lose him. I predict that without an absolutely top-notch replacement, who would probably cost nearly as much as whatever Zeck is earning, our sales will drop by 10%. When I told our children's buyer, she rolled her eyes and indicated the falloff would be much greater in her department. Zeck has cajoled, bullied, and outsmarted us to the point where Harper dominates our children's recommended titles and overall sales.
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<br />Here's my suggestion to Harper. Pay John Zeck the early retirement package (call it a bonus and fire someone at Fox News to cover it), give him a couple months off, let him choose his territory and be thankful that you dodged a bullet. I have no idea if John would even consider this deal, but frankly, if Harper were to cut their sales department to one person, that person needs to be John Zeck.</p> Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-90617987279037350332009-03-19T09:30:00.012-06:002009-03-19T12:12:32.857-06:00Hachette: From Boom to Bust<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">Hachette Gets Cheap, Real Cheap</span><br />During the deluge of bad news that has pounded the publishing industry in the last six months, one company, Hachette Book Group, has <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/26/books/26rich.html">emerged unscathed</a>. Thanks to the popularity of Stephanie Meyer, Malcolm Gladwell, David Sedaris, and Jeff Kinney's <span style="font-style: italic;">Diary of a Wimpy Kid</span> series, not to mention the dozen or so James Patterson best sellers that come out every year, Hachette is sailing through this recession. While Random House, HarperCollins, Houghton Mifflin, and Simon & Schuster were all cutting back, Hachette was handing out bonuses.<br /><br />I don't begrudge anyone in publishing a bonus and was quite happy to find out that the people I know in Hachette were being rewarded for a magnificent year. Just about everyone connected to the printed word is undervalued and poorly paid, so to see bonuses being doled out during hard times was the feel good story of the Christmas season.<br /><br />Unfortunately, Hachette has decided to not only withhold their largess from their bookselling partners, but they have instituted severe cutbacks that will cost many independent stores $3,000 in the upcoming year. It turns out they want to improve on their good fortunes, by breaking the backs of the very bookstores that promote and sell their titles.<br /><br />Yesterday, we were informed that Hachette was eliminating their newsletter co-op program ($2,000), their author events co-op ($200 to $800 per year) and their Emerging Voices program ($200). These were all programs where bookstores acted in concert with Hachette to promote individual titles. We bought display quantities of 40 different titles and advertised them in our email newsletter to earn the $2,000. We hosted events to earn the $200 event co-<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTA9U17CuPV74_pws7x28kfRkCzQgfzh69lkdbsgKyDIo33PuML6kpuIa1dXXmaRMpHTHSOm9UAjEo5Tb_0Y5YyaK5MSz70bYROxmzIlHvEf0YxOLJWppamJ0wlWTdjVii9e3w3g/s1600-h/girls.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTA9U17CuPV74_pws7x28kfRkCzQgfzh69lkdbsgKyDIo33PuML6kpuIa1dXXmaRMpHTHSOm9UAjEo5Tb_0Y5YyaK5MSz70bYROxmzIlHvEf0YxOLJWppamJ0wlWTdjVii9e3w3g/s400/girls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314951077569285730" border="0" /></a>op fee and, most importantly, we bought 10 copies of books by relatively unknown authors to earn the co-op attached with the Emerging Voices authors.<br /><br />In most businesses, $3,000 might be a fairly insignificant amount. In the bookselling world where a profit of 2% is considered stellar, it is a critical sum. That's enough money to pay a bookseller for one hour of work every Monday through Saturday all year long. Unfortunately, that's how little booksellers earn. It's enough money that we and other stores have been brainstorming how we can possibly make cuts to save it. Heck, we are even buying cheaper toilet paper and paper towels just to realize a savings of about $1,000.<br /><br />The worst part of Hachette's moves is that many of these programs are working. We bought 10 copies of Katie Crouch's <span style="font-style: italic;">Girls in Trucks </span>when it appeared on the Emerging Voices last year. It's a book I probably would have brought in only two copies without the Hachette incentive. We have now sold 67 hardbacks and are expecting it to explode in paperback this summer.<br /><br />"I think the newsletter program really worked," my Hachette rep Randy said. "You would change buys from three to eights. There were titles that you bought tens of that you never would have bought in those quantities without the extra money."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXs0PIn0HeRpIjPzwV5pyo3TWXV0-Bi9ecjyMZ6kmYOXlSD-dJKToA5NwT0VVFjvAvo4nRAaoKyg7CsE6_rOLezZKWWuUJ8lzTKMCs1XKzPol3DFoPmPucZdDlrcQfNnR64ZTMw/s1600-h/spaghetti.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXs0PIn0HeRpIjPzwV5pyo3TWXV0-Bi9ecjyMZ6kmYOXlSD-dJKToA5NwT0VVFjvAvo4nRAaoKyg7CsE6_rOLezZKWWuUJ8lzTKMCs1XKzPol3DFoPmPucZdDlrcQfNnR64ZTMw/s400/spaghetti.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314951305994133810" border="0" /></a><br />Earlier today I tried to reduce my buy of Giulia Melucci's <span style="font-style: italic;">I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti</span>, one of this season's Emerging Voices books, from 10 to 3. It's too late. Hachette has already invoiced us. I can tell you in the future we won't look on Hachette's midlist titles with such a generous eye.<br /><br />As usual, Hachette made it's decisions with very little input. No bookseller input at all from what I can tell. A little over a year ago, Hachette tried to unilaterally impose a case quantity minimum on hot new titles. That<a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2008/01/hachette-takes-hatchet-to-indies.html"> ill conceived idea,</a> which now sounds brilliant compared to eliminating most of their co-op, met with such wrath from booksellers it was quickly rescinded.<br /><br />One can only hope that this initiative meets the same fate. I doubt it. There is simply too much money on the table. It's a shame to see Hachette take their successes for granted and dump on the booksellers who have worked so hard to sell their titles. Something tells me that they won't get much bookseller support when the next tsunami hits the publishing world.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"></span>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-87509279047097727902009-03-01T17:40:00.010-07:002009-03-01T21:19:10.769-07:00Musings about eBooks.The launch of Amazon's Kindle 2 on February 9th has released a torrent of discussion about the future of ebooks on television, in newspapers, in the pages<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVetk2rLZF2Tnjic-_9eDchXH7Qdv2QHnPyj0wdXV1hz39DccM5UK6_EoUgnB1BZM3IgBldqrVXR54xbNJDMC7xVNytDRGDxX81PMnciLugSLHOuuM4JA9bf0IUxeESvPgRlfY7g/s1600-h/kindle+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308437171044899426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 275px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVetk2rLZF2Tnjic-_9eDchXH7Qdv2QHnPyj0wdXV1hz39DccM5UK6_EoUgnB1BZM3IgBldqrVXR54xbNJDMC7xVNytDRGDxX81PMnciLugSLHOuuM4JA9bf0IUxeESvPgRlfY7g/s400/kindle+2.jpg" border="0" /></a> of national magazines, as well as online conversations in blogs and on Twitter. I've refrained from joining the choir of commentators because I feel that I don't have a cogent argument to put forward about my extreme discomfort when it comes to eBooks.<br /><br />I sincerely believe that if Amazon's Kindle or Sony's Reader Digital Book or perhaps an iPhone eReader application were to take off the way the iPod has over the last five years, bookstores as we know them would cease to exist. Sure, there would be some small, niche stores. Perhaps even a few general booksellers that were a tiny fraction of the size of my store could exist in big tourist destinations, but the world of oversized chain booksellers and scrappy full-service, general independents would largely disappear.<br /><br />Instead of trying to put together a rational, logical essay about all of these ideas swirling in my head, I thought I'd just jot down a few thoughts about eBooks, in an effort to join the conversation.<br /><ul><br /><li>The prices of Amazon's Kindle and Sony's Reader are outrageous. We are talking about a device to enable people to read books. Books, the top source of information for about 500 years, have been relatively affordable, throughout modern history, for people of all walks of life. New books generally range in price from $3 (Dover classics and children's early readers) to $35 (hardcover biographies or histories). The $359 price tag truly prevents eReaders from being something that will be available to all classes of Americans, let alone people in poorer countries. If some books are eventually only published as eBooks, millions of people will not have access to them. That's scary.<br /></li><br /><br /><li>Every new scientific or technological idea is not necessarily a good one. My wife and I have been debating the merits of <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/13/science/13neanderthal.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss">cloning Neanderthals </a>for the past few weeks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6yjfTi9BcjH2pnf1fa-4SWyqXhG9KSEujrwXxCFgMzXGsRVOUc4cbOTVK1v1CJ604UvBsotZSFB4XzlllyHwFdzW3KQQL8O63Xzw4h2Q1aCQ1TUaefps800oE-n8hFGjqcnXdg/s1600-h/neandrathal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308437175051452930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6yjfTi9BcjH2pnf1fa-4SWyqXhG9KSEujrwXxCFgMzXGsRVOUc4cbOTVK1v1CJ604UvBsotZSFB4XzlllyHwFdzW3KQQL8O63Xzw4h2Q1aCQ1TUaefps800oE-n8hFGjqcnXdg/s400/neandrathal.jpg" border="0" /></a>. I've been in favor of bringing our ancient relatives back to life. It would only take about 30 million dollars to meet one. We could clone about 25,000 (a small city) if we spent the entire stimulus bill on the project. My wife is concerned about the ethics and humanity of the enterprise. EBooks seem about as necessary in today's world as Neanderthals. For generations, the book has been an unbelievably efficient means of communicating complex ideas and stories. EBooks don't add anything to the reading experience. IPods, on the other hand, allow us to mix our music and categorize it in ways that weren't possible unless you were a disc jockey. We aren't going to make mixed books. Do you need to carry around 100 books? Should we scrap books simply because we can? What are the real ramifications of digitizing our cultural legacy? Could a virus wipe out a future Thomas Paine's cry for revolution?<br /></li><br /><li>Reading is a vacation from the computer and television screens. We spend half our waking lives, maybe more, in front of these screens. Reading a book slows us down, forces us to concentrate in a way that neither the television nor the Internet does. If reading a novel is no different than reading a website with multiple links, will our ability to focus on something longer than a blog post begin to erode?<br /></li><br /><li>Now that I have a baby, I seem to find myself in the library a bit more. It's a restful place in downtown Boulder with excellent diaper-changing facilities. We've started borrowing DVDs and books on CD while we are there. Almost all of the library's numerous patrons are glued to computer screens. Many are watching entertainment videos on YouTube, viewing sports clips on ESPN or just tweaking their resumes. Often, I amble, virtually alone, through the stacks of books, glancing at their colorful spines. I get the feeling in those quiet aisles, as I look at John Dos Passos' collected works taking up half a shelf, that I'm witnessing the demise of a whole civilization of learning. I think eBooks will just hasten the decline. Without their physical aspect, books will have no chance of competing in the entertainment world.<br /></li><br /><li>Each night, I read a book to our four-month-old daughter, Martina, before putting her to bed. We've r<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHQu8RxCvrSdmt5aAkBOY5SW9mWFJOfm4cA65oDfakT8C_yxCDHIVu7XZCFgMtTvtMh1iucZ3mch1hgUUT0avpdVFKJoc6hQ8TDKoVi3f8Hmi4hyphenhyphenaKjpTtjECK609MQAc8BTJYQ/s1600-h/I+Kissed+the+Baby.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308438387974507250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHQu8RxCvrSdmt5aAkBOY5SW9mWFJOfm4cA65oDfakT8C_yxCDHIVu7XZCFgMtTvtMh1iucZ3mch1hgUUT0avpdVFKJoc6hQ8TDKoVi3f8Hmi4hyphenhyphenaKjpTtjECK609MQAc8BTJYQ/s400/I+Kissed+the+Baby.JPG" border="0" /></a>ead <em>Henry Hikes to Fitchburg</em> by D.B. Johnson, my personal favorite, <em>Chubbo's Pool</em> by Betsy Lewin, <em>I Kissed the Baby</em> by Mary Murphy and <em>Dawn </em>by Uri Shulevitz several times. I perch her on my lap and spread open the beautiful, illustrated pages before her. The paintings take up most of her field of vision. She's completely absorbed by the riot of colors and shapes that she sees. EBooks will never be able to do that.<br /></li></ul><br /><p>There are two recent blog posts that I would recommend for a sane and rational bookseller perspective on eBooks. Rich Rennick, a bookseller with Malaprop's in Asheville, North Carolina states his belief that there are opportunities for independent bookstores in his post <a href="http://wordhoarder.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/what-about-eebooks/">What About EBooks?</a> Patrick, a bookseller with Vromans, the top independent bookstore in Los Angeles, talks about the actual experience of reading an eBook and what the future of eBooks might mean for independents in his recent post, <a href="http://blog.vromans.com/i-read-an-e-book-and-i-liked-it/">I Read and E-Book (And I Liked It).</a></p>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-21528149773062824042009-02-24T22:15:00.003-07:002009-02-24T22:30:03.391-07:00The Self-Published Man<em><span style="font-size:85%;">The following story is reprinted from an article I wrote for the Boulder Weekly. Robert Dresner is signing at the Boulder Book Store on Wednesday, Feb. 25th at 7:30 p.m.</span></em><br /><br /><strong>Everyone Agrees Robert Dresner's Sci-fi Novel is Great.</strong><br /><strong>Why Can't He Get It Published?</strong><br /><br />Robert Dresner, with his short, tough-guy haircut, Bronx accent and agitated mannerisms seems an unlikely person to write an emotionally resonant and thought-provoking novel. Words flow easily from him in conversation as he anticipates questions and speaks extemporaneously on just about any subject. Words aren’t the problem. It’s just hard to imagine him sitting still long enough to compose much more than a paragraph.<br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGRc11QTxn0iEQcVpQW0YjrEaK9kZ1YKyUpjqo8P64BRav4LMV5ow8DWelKqhJQGJbQBZo8Ev6yl1hQCodxwUv8m-PI2bepIuj1v9-KjZ2NgDuq75-UIwnzlnD0d9L5N_XtRR4w/s1600-h/dresner.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306600765853762994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGRc11QTxn0iEQcVpQW0YjrEaK9kZ1YKyUpjqo8P64BRav4LMV5ow8DWelKqhJQGJbQBZo8Ev6yl1hQCodxwUv8m-PI2bepIuj1v9-KjZ2NgDuq75-UIwnzlnD0d9L5N_XtRR4w/s400/dresner.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Perhaps even more surprising is that Dresner’s self-published Astral Imperative begins as a simple science fiction narrative about the first manned mission to Mars before revealing itself as an insightful meditation on relationships, heroism and human foibles. Writing in a direct, unadorned prose style, Dresner creates a space ship that is large enough to carry not only his diverse group of astronauts but also the reader’s imagination.<br /><br />I first met Dresner a few years ago on his day job as one of Boulder’s best house painters. He showed up at my condominium in dungarees and a crisp button-down shirt to advise my wife and me about paint colors and provide an estimate. He was blunt in his vision of eliminating our clashing colors and shook his graying head a few times, asking us if we were sure we wanted to keep the canary yellow in our living room.<br /><br />He exuded confidence and competence as he paced the four rooms of our home like a caged panther, turning off and on lights, holding up paint swatches to the wall, eyeing the high ceiling of our staircase and explaining just what a pain in the ass it was going to be to get our house painted. He so fully inhabited his role of professional painter that it never occurred to me that he might harbor secret writing ambitions. He was simply “the painter.”<br /><br />I should have known better. Ever since becoming the head book buyer for the Boulder Book Store in 1997, I have been besieged by writers. Manuscripts have miraculously appeared from locked draws, stapled poetry collections have been pulled out of coat pockets at parties, and bizarre plot summaries have ruined football games at local bars. It’s so bad that I’ve told people that I am a ballet dancer (that always silences them when they view my doughy 5-foot-4 frame) or claimed to be a sports reporter in town to cover the big game. I’ll say anything to avoid the awkwardness of hearing about all of those unpublished books from needy authors.<br /><br />I let my guard down with Dresner, however, and in a conversation at the end of the painting job I mentioned my position at the bookstore. His eyes lit up, and he told me that he’d written several novels. I tried to change the subject and had almost forgotten the conversation when he showed up at my office a few days later to pick up his check.<br /><br />“You were the first stranger that I’d asked to read a book of mine in my entire life,” Dresner said to me in a recent interview. “It was very hard for me. I had left the bookstore and was in the alley when I decided to come back in and give the book to you. I knew that I had to do something. People were telling me I had to make it happen.”<br /><br />The novel that Dresner delivered to me was on 287 manuscript pages bound in a hardback clamshell black binder. It weighed nearly four pounds. He nervously extolled the virtues of the binder that he’d picked up in New York City, rather than of his book, and told me to please return it if I wasn’t going to read the book because each binder cost $40. When he left I noticed that the price tag from Lincoln Stationary was still on the inside cover -- $33.95.<br /><br />After a month and a few guilt-inducing follow-up visits to the bookstore from Robert, I began reading the novel with great trepidation. Gradually my hesitancy disappeared as I became absorbed in his tale and enthralled by his characters.<br /><br />These characters include the heroic but isolated astronaut, Captain Adam Sietzer, the second-in-charge Russian, Vladimir Sussenko, and crew members from Japan, Germany, China, India and Africa. There are men and women as well as people of differing religions. It is a miniature United Nations hurdling towards Mars.<br /><br />Dresner’s astronauts are deeply flawed, all of them hiding some psychological weakness. One is probably criminally psychotic. It is fascinating to see how these people react to each other in the confines of a space ship. The Astral Imperative is really an old-fashioned chamber play. The setting, the mission and even the plot fade into the background as the complexity of human relations move to the fore.<br /><br />Dresner uses a remarkably creative device to help expose the relationships between the astronauts. Also on board the ship is a computer game called “the Dream Machine,” created by the Japanese astronaut, Makoto. The game creates a holographic image of Mars that every member of the crew views and can change. The image of Mars morphs based on the game entries from various crew members. It’s a way for the bored crew to pass the long flight, but also a way to work out the emotions and expectations of their historic mission.<br /><br />“The Dream Machine came out of thin air,” Dresner said. “I didn’t even have a point of reference for it. As I wrote the book, I created it. I wanted to know if it was possible to get 8 or 12 players and play a SimCity-style game to the max. Instead of just ideas I wanted ideas and emotions. The Dream Machine gives them a physical component. What happens in the game when seven people are angry and three are happy?”<br /><br />As the novels progresses, the game evolves into something quite unexpected. At first the color of the planet changes based on the moods of the astronauts, and then structures begin appearing on the surface, someone even hacking into the program and turning the whole thing into a sexist joke that creates a lot of tension between the astronauts. Eventually, the Dream Machine begins exhibiting the traits of a sentient being.<br /><br />By the time I finished reading I was stunned by how compelling a vision Dresner had created. How could this not be published? Each week more than 25 advance reader’s copies of published books come across my desk. I told Dresner that I’d be surprised if even three of them were the equal to his novel. Surely, he should be able to get it published. Little did I know of Dresner’s lack of expertise in marketing himself.<br /><br />“I think I write the worst cover letters anybody ever wrote in human history,” Dresner said. “People read them and just start laughing. I think there is an underlying resentment that I have when it comes to publishing. It should be simpler to sell a book.”<br /><br />I put Dresner in touch with Larry Yoder, my sales rep from St. Martins. Yoder, who has an exuberant personality that more than matches Dresner’s, knows St. Martins’ top-selling science fiction line, Tor Books, better than just about anyone in the country. He’s the only sales rep that I’ve had in 12 years of buying that actually reads most of his books. Not only did Yoder read 100 or more science fiction books a year, he was unusually honest in his assessment of them. Often, his booming voice could be heard in the upstairs ballroom of the bookstore as he ordered me to skip a book while aggressively motioning to me with his hands to turn the page in the catalog.<br /><br />“I don’t know why they publish this crap,” he’d frequently bellow. “No one’s going to read this because it doesn’t make any sense,” he’d tell me as I pondered a jacket illustration of a fire-breathing dragon riding a space ship.<br /><br />I thought Yoder could tell if Dresner was truly onto something better than I could. One of Yoder’s most highly touted authors was the Nebula-award-winning Robert Sawyer, whose novels are often set in the near future and are based on current scientific research. Sawyer’s novels, like Dresner’s, also delve deeply into human relations.<br /><br />Dresner’s ambitions seemed to follow along the lines that Sawyer was taking. The Astral Imperative is meticulously researched and the science all seems feasible. Given the scientific bent of Dresner’s novel, it’s not surprising that it is dedicated to a Boulder scientist, the cofounder of The Case for Mars, Tom Meyer.<br /><br />“Tom grounded the science in the novel and gave it shape,” Dresner said. “This is his vision of a manned trip to Mars. It’s all very realistic science. These are things that will happen, might happen or someone’s researching the possibility. By being naïve, I’d come up with an idea that is unusual and then Tom would put me in touch with people.”<br /><br />It took awhile for Yoder to read the book, but when he finally did he believed he’d found a jewel. “My first reaction was that his novel was better than some of the stuff that I sell,” Yoder said. “He was bringing a component of general fiction into a science fiction story. That’s what made Dune great. His characters were developed and you cared about the people.”<br /><br />Yoder’s opinion of his novel came when Dresner was at a low point in his writing.<br /><br />“It was a hot day in the summer and I was bogged down in writing book two, feeling discouraged when I got a phone call from Larry,” Dresner recalled. “I’d left him a little message saying I understood he was busy, and if he couldn’t read the book could he send back the manuscript. ‘You want your manuscript back?’ he said. ‘Are you kidding me? It’s the best manuscript I’ve read. I’ve never read anything like this.’”<br /><br />Finally, it looked like Dresner just might get the break he needed. It was hard for him to get his hopes up too much because of his close calls in the past.<br /><br />“I was with the William Morris agency, I had a screenplay with Universal, it goes on and on,” Dresner said. “I’d get a phone call about how much they loved it and how they thought it was unusual and then the next call never came.”<br /><br />Despite Yoder’s love for the book and my pushing and prodding of St. Martin’s editors, Dresner was right not to get his hopes up. The call never came from Tor Books, despite Yoder’s strong endorsement.<br /><br />“Sometimes they don’t hear what you are saying in publishing,” Yoder said. “I took it to them and said, ‘I can sell this.’ But they don’t want to listen. Editor after editor kept telling me that this wasn’t what they were publishing. It’s like we weren’t speaking the same language. I never would have sent it in if I didn’t think it would sell.”<br /><br />Now, Dresner has decided to publish the book on his own. He doesn’t have the patience for the publisher dance any more, and if anything, his disdain for having to sell himself has only grown with time.<br /><br />“I feel frustration – rage -- when I think about the effort it takes to get published.” Dresner said. “I have six books. The process to get published is at least a year or two. I just felt, as I was getting older, that time was compressing. If publishers in New York don’t recognize that it’s good why should you be punished for that?”<br /><br />Dresner’s impatience with publishing extended to his self-publishing venture.<br /><br />“We were a little too fast in getting this published,” Dresner said. “In five weeks we had a book. I gave it to a talented editor and only gave her a week to get it ready. We had a thousand little things to correct. The cover also looks too heavily masculine (a phallic space ship in front of a nebula background.) It’s a book about self-discovery and relationships -- women love it.”<br /><br />Dresner is learning how to handle being an author instead of a painter writing in his spare time. The transition hasn’t come as easily as expected. His voluble nature has been stymied when he has encountered his readers.<br /><br />“The experience of being an author is not what I expected. I’ve become the center of attention at parties. I feel embarrassed. They really think I have something. Being embarrassed is the exact opposite of what I expected to feel,” Dresner said.<br /><div></div>Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-58835488462977348382009-02-22T13:14:00.004-07:002009-02-22T18:07:11.197-07:00I'm Tweeting My Life AwayTweeting is what you do when you are on the social network website <a href="http://twitter.com/">Twitter</a>. I'm not sure why it isn't twittering, I'd prefer twittering. It sure feels like I'm twittering (to speak rapidly and in a tremulous manner) when I'm furiously typing my hopefully pithy comments, responses and questions. Whether it's tweeting or twittering is irrelevant in the end because I'm sure in love with those little 140-character jolts I get each day.<br /><br />What started as a once-a-day habit in the fall (after a tip from a fellow bookseller at the Mountains and Plains conference) has turned into a full-blown addiction. I can hardly imagine life as a book buyer without my Twitter lifeline. I check in when I arrive at the office, I leave a note telling my 197 followers what I'm doing in the middle of the day, and I read and write a few tweets at the end of the long work day. Simply put, it's my blanket, my teddy bear, my hot soup on a cold day.<br /><br />The following pieces in homage to Twitter are all exactly 140 words to pay respect to Twitter's 140-character limit. My Twitter identity, like my blog, is Kashsbookcorner.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Love Letter to Twitter</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br />Oh, Twitter where would I be without you? Each morning you bring me news from dozens near and far. One is stuck in snow, another has a dreadful meeting to go to, a third tells me Harper is laying off its stars. Sure, it takes 10 minutes to decipher some of the messages due to your minimalist language, but who else will provide me with obscure links about Norwegian websites declaring war or perfume companies' diminished profits?<br /><br />Twitter, when I'm down you send me word of a wonderful novel from my publishing friends, when I get too high you give me balance with desperate tweets from frantic booksellers. And sometimes you have just a hint of mystery with your oblique comments starting with @this or @that. What's wonderful? What's incredible? Are you keeping secrets? Please tell me, my beautiful Twitter.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Twitter, Thanks for Doing my Job </span></strong><br /><br />Thanks for bailing me out on Wednesday when I didn't look through the publisher's catalog in advance. In the past, I would have just made guesses and let the rep spoon feed me titles. Instead, you saved the day. I tweeted, "Anybody buy Grove/Atlantic yet? What did you like? Anything that is a must have?" The responses came pouring in. Suddenly, I was an expert, a prepared buyer.<br /><br />Oh yes, we are excited about <em>Wetlands</em>, a couple of booksellers wrote in. Another recommended <em>The Earth Hums in B Flat, </em>echoing my rep's sage advice, and there was even more enthusiasm for <em>The Whole Five Feet.</em> My rep claimed a few books were getting great buzz so I typed the titles into the <a href="http://search.twitter.com/">twitter search </a>to see who was tweeting about them. <em>Wetlands </em>had tons of buzz<em>,</em> Richard Flanagan none.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Twitter Understands Me</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br />It's hard to feel lonely with Twitter. Some days, I used to feel that nobody really knew what I was going through -- the endless catalogs, the rep's hyperbole, and tedious photocopied add-ons. My colleagues saw the lunches, the free books and a comfortable day spent sitting in a chair, while they stood behind the register.<br /><br />Now, I have a community that I can tweet with everyday. Some have paged their way through the catalogs, some are stuck selling publishers that I can't stand buying, and some are experimenting with Edelweiss, the electronic catalog. Many respond to my tweets with supportive words. I tweet, "It's hard to see so many reps when I don't want to buy." They respond with, "That's how it is with us. Too many books, tight budget." All day long we talk. I'm not alone anymore.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-42904104091769391932009-02-02T11:33:00.013-07:002009-02-02T21:52:33.449-07:00Cutting the List of Nominees<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO2mPEN4yD-tqF7i4MqHVizXbESoNq3EnI6GnbPiA1iekloPWOe4-3mZhDj_XFxuNRrj-WkZ-6kgHFo4d6MpQuhI9hwOGDV0nSo2-BBKVJMuWsEpZ4m0JKnQ_QSrevRtBR-kqbg/s1600-h/indie+next.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298315054292502322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 201px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUO2mPEN4yD-tqF7i4MqHVizXbESoNq3EnI6GnbPiA1iekloPWOe4-3mZhDj_XFxuNRrj-WkZ-6kgHFo4d6MpQuhI9hwOGDV0nSo2-BBKVJMuWsEpZ4m0JKnQ_QSrevRtBR-kqbg/s400/indie+next.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />A few weeks ago, I got one of the more surprising calls of my bookselling career. The caller wanted to know if I'd be interested in determining the nominees for the Indie Choice Book Awards. At first, I wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but then quickly realized that the Indie Choice awards given out by the American Booksellers Association at Book Expo America are the new Booksense awards. Wow! I've come to the realization that I'm never going to be able to vote for the Baseball Hall of Fame, but now I would have a chance to influence a book award.<br /><br />Sure, I'd love to nominate a few books. I was about to start rambling off titles when she informed me that the process was a bit more complex than shouting out a few of my favorite books. The ABA would send me a long list of nominees from this year's Indie Next Lists in four categories and I would work with a handful of other booksellers from around the country to whittle the lists down to five books each. ABA booksellers would then vote for the awards from our short list.<br /><br />I started sweating. I have a two-month old baby at home. I can barely get through a Dr. Seuss book right now. The caller was talking about a total of 60 or 70 books on the long lists. The panic was setting in and I was about to get my shrink on speed dial on the other line, when the caller mentioned we'd begin discussions in a week or two. That was too much, "I don't think I can read all the books in time."<br /><br />She chuckled. "That's why we need people like you. No one can read all the books. We need people who know the industry, know about these books and can discuss them so we can get the right finalists."<br /><br />What a relief. They needed a natural bullshitter. No problem. I do that everyday. In fact, I once had a sports talk show in Maryland and one of our features was rating movies that we hadn't seen. It was the most popular part of the show. "Sign me up for the Indie Choice Awards," I exclaimed.<br /><br />This morning I completed my form and have selected my five books in each category. I thought I'd share my picks and my convoluted reasoning with the readership of Kash's Book Corner.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)">Fiction</span></span><br /><ul><li><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Now You See Him</span> by Eli Gottlieb. Gottlieb's book contains echoes of <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Great Gatsby</span>, he lives right here in Boulder and <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2007/12/eli-gottlieb-now-you-see-him.html">I interviewed him</a> for my blog.</li></ul><ul><li><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Unaccustomed Earth </span>by Jhumpa Lahiri. The best short story writer working today. An absolutely magnificent collection.<br /></li></ul><ul><li><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Netherland</span> by Joseph O'Neill. A quirky novel featuring cricket players in New York and <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oS-9ly2YKcfGkJhYaUUWKMunjHP2-r32yw4Z_HUg4fuaEKbZ8lB1NTZAvd6JgnIKLog0obVZZF19ptsvuIaURCydPvcdWecCxW-GPeIM7aoCiHQ92aNkeqRS7bTTQuQociYSsg/s1600-h/Peace.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298315289510829426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oS-9ly2YKcfGkJhYaUUWKMunjHP2-r32yw4Z_HUg4fuaEKbZ8lB1NTZAvd6JgnIKLog0obVZZF19ptsvuIaURCydPvcdWecCxW-GPeIM7aoCiHQ92aNkeqRS7bTTQuQociYSsg/s400/Peace.jpg" border="0" /></a>odd energetic characters that reminded me of some of the great Saul Bellow novels including <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Humboldt's Gift</span>.<br /></li></ul><ul><li><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Gossip of the Starlings</span> by Nina de Gramont. A marvelous look at adolescent friendship, written in a gorgeous style. Nina used to work at the Boulder Book Store and <a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2008/05/homecoming-for-debut-novelist.html">I interviewed her</a> for my blog.<br /></li></ul><ul><li><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Peace </span>by Richard Bausch. My favorite novel of the year. Bausch's intense look at a group of Americans trying to climb an Italian hill on a snowy night in World War II was a gripping tale of survival and morality.<br /></li></ul><br />I must admit that I really didn't follow the spirit of my task in this category. I actually read all of the books I put on the shortlist. There were two books on the long list that I read, but I decided against nominating for the short list. Garth Stein's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Art of Racing in the Rain </span>which I thought was too lightweight for an award. Also, Stein's book zoomed in popularity after Starbuck's featured it. Nothing says independent like a title that Starbucks makes. Dennis Lehane's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Given Day, </span>which had the best galley package of any novel this year,<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"> </span>was a great lark of a story, but in the end I felt at 720 pages it was a bit unwieldy and somewhat sloppy.<br /><br />Other favorites in the fiction category that I dismissed included <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society </span>by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. One of my fellow buyers said she liked it but it was too slight for an award. I also have difficulty with co-written fiction although I would have made an exception in this case. Toni Morrison's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">A Mercy</span> also missed my ballot. It seems to me that you should be disqualified for winning further literary awards after garnishing a Nobel Prize. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Hour I First Believed </span>by Wally Lamb was simply too long to consider.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)">Nonfiction</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx57WqIytduOuG0Tu4kCVv9XL-qBA0hbyzt2II5tOWI3JeX1PSOQDAubBkra27BtzPSMglddSifm8TpgHhbXls4weSoU6XNAPW5XpmAPROzbrLUFJWBkIqYZpQJ74D-1mL6MDFow/s1600-h/hurry.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298315483224415858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx57WqIytduOuG0Tu4kCVv9XL-qBA0hbyzt2II5tOWI3JeX1PSOQDAubBkra27BtzPSMglddSifm8TpgHhbXls4weSoU6XNAPW5XpmAPROzbrLUFJWBkIqYZpQJ74D-1mL6MDFow/s400/hurry.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Billionaire's Vinegar</span> by Benjamin Wallace.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Waiter Rant</span> by The Waiter.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">What I Talk About When I Talk About Running </span>by Haruki Murakami.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">American Buffalo </span>by Steven Rinella.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hurry Down Sunshine</span> by Michael Greenberg.<br /><br />Unlike the fiction nominees, I didn't read too many books in this category. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hurry Down Sunshine, </span>a title that I'm writing in because it didn't appear on the long list, is the only one I've read of my nominees. Greenberg's book is a personal, beautiful memoir depicting the year his teenage daughter had a psychotic break. Greenberg came to Denver to meet with independent booksellers before the book came out and was quite charming. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hurry Down Sunshine</span> was published by Other Press and I don't think they'd survive without independent booksellers.<br /><br />The other four books were all books that sold well at our store and seemed to speak to the kinds of readers that independent stores attract. They are smart, thought provoking and none of them were huge hits nationally. Considering their attributes almost makes me wish I'd taken the time to read at least one of them.<br /><br />One book that I did read on the long list that I didn't nominate was <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Bonk</span> by Mary Roach. I thought Roach's romp through sex research had it's entertaining moments, but it just seemed a little slap dash, lurching from one topic to another without much flow, and overly reliant on goofy footnotes. I also didn't think <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Dewey: The Small Town Library Cat Who Touched the World</span> should make the cut. Dewey has already enjoyed more fame and better sales than any feline should expect. Besides, I'm allergic to cats.<br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">New Author</span></span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Mudbound</span> by Hillary Jordan.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The White Tiger</span> by Aravind Adiga.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Dear American Airlines</span> by Jonathan Miles<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Little Book</span> by Selden Edwards.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">In Hovering Flight</span> by Joyce Hinnefeld.<br /><br />I haven't cracked open any of these books. I've admired their cover art, I've read the descriptions on the galleys, I've been awed by the blurbs, but instead I wiled away my time this year with old authors like P.G. Wodehouse and John Updike. Don't worry, I'll read Mudbound after Jordan proves herself with another 20 or so excellent books. I'll crack open Miles' tome when he's got a bit more... mileage on him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOIMuR0Ww-GdjxM9D2Mn1PzyS-YWi3sDZaE-qi8kuFlTn-oHXHXvrY-zOlfweB9Y91Ov6VV2Jd1dmpAmXlL6ac6Px7BLrhjyO5Wgrdu5eH-TdY70-mqWvG1FvRPpkKVfv4Hbw0sA/s1600-h/mudbound.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298315744373283234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOIMuR0Ww-GdjxM9D2Mn1PzyS-YWi3sDZaE-qi8kuFlTn-oHXHXvrY-zOlfweB9Y91Ov6VV2Jd1dmpAmXlL6ac6Px7BLrhjyO5Wgrdu5eH-TdY70-mqWvG1FvRPpkKVfv4Hbw0sA/s400/mudbound.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Why these books? Hinnefeld (Unbridled) and Jordan (Algonquin) were published by small houses that consistently do excellent work. Their novels were favorites of people on the staff and I'll take any opportunity to award these small literary houses for their efforts. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">White Tiger </span>won the Man Booker Prize, pretty darn impressive for a debut. Selden Edwards came to Denver for a dinner and wowed one of my co-workers (not that she finished the book). Jonathan Miles had the best premise of any novel (a scathing complaint letter that rises to great art, I'm told) this year.<br /><br />I didn't select the most obvious choices on the long list. David Wroblewski's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Story of Edgar Sawtelle </span>was clearly the splashiest debut of the year. Wroblewski lives in the Denver metro area and I feel bad in not nominating a guy from the home team, but not that bad since Oprah gave him her blessing. Oprah's seal of approval is basically the sales equivalent of the Nobel Prize. Wroblewski simply doesn't need an Indie Choice award. I also skipped on <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</span>, because with translated fiction I'm never sure if the translator or the author deserves the award.<br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153);font-size:130%;" ><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Childrens</span></span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Savvy </span>by Ingrid Law.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Hunger Games</span> by Suzanne Collins.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Graceling </span>by Kristin Cashore.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDpVRwnq7ZAmdBTN7VufN-NQ-MnSaFYj4P8b4QRR_QqSsfhX75KnWdAI0QRFsP_c0b49OLrTuukioVyzioZuADNNFFqmmyEA4VAvnyGOj3LVJNEp-0HJiFhk0FIjjxefNHPwnHg/s1600-h/pretty+monsters.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298316189376166882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDpVRwnq7ZAmdBTN7VufN-NQ-MnSaFYj4P8b4QRR_QqSsfhX75KnWdAI0QRFsP_c0b49OLrTuukioVyzioZuADNNFFqmmyEA4VAvnyGOj3LVJNEp-0HJiFhk0FIjjxefNHPwnHg/s320/pretty+monsters.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes</span> by Mem Fox, Helen Oxenbury.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Pretty Monsters </span>by Kelly Lind, Shaun Tan.<br /><br />I'm a guy in an open-air office with five women. These are the books they told me to nominate. What could I do? Ingrid Law, a local author, is a true favorite among the staff and she had a great signing at the store. I believe that short stories are underrepresented in teen lit and <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Pretty Monsters </span>is a marvelous collection of tales that also takes up residence in our Science Fiction section.<br /><br />Neil Gaiman's <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Graveyard Book</span> did not make my list simply because he won the Newbery Award. Gaiman gave a<a href="http://kashsbookcorner.blogspot.com/2008/10/tales-of-three-book-events.html"> wonderful signing at the store that had me flummoxed</a> as to how many books to buy. Still, he doesn't need an Indie Choice award. It's time to spread the wealth. Whatever wealth is still left in the book world.<br /><br />The next step is conversing with everyone else on the committee as we try to come up with those short lists. Hopefully, someone out there uses more rational logic than I.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-76067409861620982292009-01-20T08:40:00.009-07:002009-01-20T12:47:05.597-07:00Changes Here, There and Everywhere<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Avin Domnitz to Leave American Booksellers Association</span><br /><br />I was quite surprised by the announcement last week that Avin Domnitz would be leaving his post as Chief Executive Officer of the American Booksellers Association later this year. To me, Domnitz, with his booming voice and large energetic bearing, has come to embody the trade group that <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3O-5wXubQmsRxmEkt6wF0vE0ZYI50zPkOE678D2UqoUb89t2begH082xHfy5yipqKd8SlBlWoqDzQrZUXXxy0CTjPO9anpNWVtxm4OIvKZd7kj9AZzCTo6ISCv6sjn0GD-MZKA/s1600-h/avin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3O-5wXubQmsRxmEkt6wF0vE0ZYI50zPkOE678D2UqoUb89t2begH082xHfy5yipqKd8SlBlWoqDzQrZUXXxy0CTjPO9anpNWVtxm4OIvKZd7kj9AZzCTo6ISCv6sjn0GD-MZKA/s400/avin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293430438358954162" border="0" /></a>has fought so valiantly for independent booksellers during this past decade.<br /><br />Domnitz seemed to be everywhere, from the corridors of the large convention halls in New York, Chicago, Washington D.C. or Los Angeles at Book Expo America and the hotel lobbies that house the Mountains & Plains Independent Booksellers Association meetings in Colorado, to our new fiction section browsing for a book to read while on vacation. He was constantly championing the cause of independent bookstores at these gatherings and he was always willing to speak one on one to booksellers with suggestions on how to survive in this almost impossible business climate.<br /><br />Over the years, I've had to endure a lot of complaints about the ABA. Booksellers would grumble that the ABA wasn't doing enough to help member stores, the initiatives were ineffective, ABA should only focus on one particular agenda item (the focus always changed with the person I was talking to), and that it was absurd for poor, beaten down booksellers to have to support the large staff infrastructure and high salaries of ABA. Heck, if someone could make money in bookselling more power to them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeN27qAOqvTQpXmmAQ2JfpjYXSit_5fhzSq75ylSmMiOGeHFSx7uB-IA-L4xuCQyoxjwJK73AvC2t1p-ZiVynBWT-sE7tatUpbxc-yEsaP4TFBanMnR7ISmWlqe69XKTNT9VKyWA/s1600-h/indiebound.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeN27qAOqvTQpXmmAQ2JfpjYXSit_5fhzSq75ylSmMiOGeHFSx7uB-IA-L4xuCQyoxjwJK73AvC2t1p-ZiVynBWT-sE7tatUpbxc-yEsaP4TFBanMnR7ISmWlqe69XKTNT9VKyWA/s400/indiebound.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293430056001468354" border="0" /></a><br />I never took much stock in those complaints. The job that Domnitz was trying to accomplish was remarkably complex. The ABA is made up mostly of tiny little almost invisible mom and pop stores while the big glamorous booksellers (like Powell's and Tattered Cover) get all of the press and attention. It's almost two completely different constituencies. Domnitz, through programs like Booksense (now IndieBound), the suing of publishers for unfair trade practices and most recently the litigation in New York to get Amazon to pay sales tax has tried to find the common ground.<br /><br />I don't think it will be easy to find someone to replace Domnitz. He was simply impossible to ignore. Sure, some booksellers thought he was full of bombast and empty rhetoric, but people took notice when he entered the room. He got publishers to pay attention to independent stores during a time when there were many more reasons for them to cast us aside.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Harry W. Schwartz Bookshops Closing</span><br />This headline nearly broke my heart until I saw the glimmer of hope in the articles. Harry W. Schwartz, the venerable bookseller that has been serving Milwaukee for 82 years, announced yesterday that it was going to close its four stores at the end of March. My sadness was personal because my dear friend Daniel Goldin has been the buyer for Schwartz for o<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w0ZjJJwtqQpoDgdL1jcIkUP4mveITv-KrbNQavhqU5D_ixGFo84Q4ouw7JcOFlqS2vASlD1h_5tosrw5puPff5lGrPhRXzQeb3Wlswom4_hHLBiSwqIsfswJip5IRdt-LlVYrA/s1600-h/schwartz.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 72px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w0ZjJJwtqQpoDgdL1jcIkUP4mveITv-KrbNQavhqU5D_ixGFo84Q4ouw7JcOFlqS2vASlD1h_5tosrw5puPff5lGrPhRXzQeb3Wlswom4_hHLBiSwqIsfswJip5IRdt-LlVYrA/s400/schwartz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293431351663416018" border="0" /></a>ver 20 years.<br /><br />Daniel is the smartest, most passionate bookseller I know. He's an amazing reader, a kind soul and he possesses a remarkable business mind. I owe much of my success as a buyer to the advice he has given me over the years. I almost picked up the phone and called him to commiserate before I finished reading the<a href="http://www.jsonline.com/entertainment/arts/37807069.html"> article</a>. Luckily, I didn't. It turns out that Daniel will be purchasing Schwartz's best store, the Downer Avenue location and renaming it Boswell Book Company. If anyone can make an independent book store thrive in an old Great Lake's city it is Daniel.<br /><br />Still, the news was a major blow to people in the independent bookseller community. After all, Schwartz is one of the great stores in the country (hosting magnificent events under the guidance of another old friend of mine Nancy Quinn) and it has survived rough times in the past including the Great Depression. But this time there was no hope. Sales were down 17 % last year and didn't show any promise of rebounding this year. Carol Grossmeyer, Schwartz's President, said, "we really believe that the multiple-store model that we had become, and that worked so well for us in the 1980s and 1990s, is not feasible anymore."<br /><br />If she's right then we could be headed for very interesting times in the bookselling community. Barnes & Noble and Borders have taken the multiple-store model to huge extremes. However, Powell's and Tattered Cover also have multiple locations. What are the implications for them? Will they go the way of Schwartz and Washington bookseller <a href="http://www.olssons.com/">Olsson's</a>? I hope not. The results of more closings like this, leading to fewer dedicated booksellers will be truly devastating for authors and readers in addition to booksellers.<br /><br />The irony that Domnitz got his bookselling experience and made his reputation at Schwartz during their heyday is quite hard to avoid this week. His retirement and the closing of Schwartz seems like a true end of a bookselling era.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Boy, It's a Little Stressful Around Here</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>We've seen our share of tension here at the store over the past few weeks. It's been a time of reckoning as we try to align our staff and our inventory to the new economic reality. It's also been a time of looking ahead and trying to project what our future holds. Projecting much optimism is nearly impossible.<br /><br />Fortunately, due to normal staff turnover, we have been able to avoid layoffs. However, we have shifted people's responsibilities, accepted resignations without any hope of hiring replacements and foisted more work upon fewer people. Perhaps the most difficult aspect of this transition is that we are struggling to make our young staff members understand the seriousness of the situation. It's been a challenge.<br /><br />As I listened to Barack Obama's inaugural address this morning and he discussed putting aside petty recriminations and choosing work over leisure, I couldn't help thinking of the hurdles that our staff faces in these coming months. I can only hope that we can rise and meet our challenges.<br /><br />Meeting these enormous challenges despite the obvious difficulties is truly our best option. I think I echo most of our staff's feelings when I say that I've had enough change for one year and it's only Jan. 20.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-68167513043896366532009-01-11T11:45:00.008-07:002009-01-11T18:52:02.476-07:00To Go Where No Buyer Has Gone BeforeI got a glimpse into the future this week when I bought the HarperCollins children's and the Penguin adult hardcover lists using the electronic catalog Edelweiss instead of the paper catalogs provided by the publishers. Edelweiss, an offshoot of the popular bookstore data analysis program Above the Treeline, is attempting to position itself as the industry's catalog repository of the future.<br /><br />Why should each publisher have to develop their own ecatalog when Treeline can create a format that will allow them to just plug their title information into it? Overjoyed buyers would only have to learn one program instead of dozens. At least that's the reasoning of Treeline's founder John Rubin. Rubin has been working furiously since last June's Book Expo America in Los Angeles, when HarperCollins announced their ambitious plans to rid themselves of paper catalogs, to get his product off the ground.<br /><br />Rubin was in my office for the HarperCollins children's buy along with my Harper rep John Zeck. Zeck and I have been two of the biggest proponents of Treeline over the last few years. It's a program with an enormous amount of potential to revolutionize how bookstores and publishers relate to each other. Publishers can see nearly real time sales data at stores on a title-by-title level as well as their aggregate sales.<br /><br />Much to my frustration, the industry tends to use Treeline, which has the analytical power of a Maserati, as a child's tricycle.<strong> </strong>Publisher reps timidly suggest that stores buy a title here and there based on Treeline data. Instead, the publishers could do something truly useful like allot co-op dollars to stores for the year based on the Treeline data.<strong> </strong>Get one more marginal title into a store or save hundreds of hours of extra labor? Seems like an easy decision, and yet every publisher has opted for the extra title so far. In my experience, only Random House has made some attempts to use the true power of the program.<br /><br />Rubin is smart enough to know that his program is under-utilized by the industry and saw a golden opportunity to position Treeline front and center as publishers looked for ways to save catalog costs. It's a bold step but one that might be necessary for the long-term survival of Treeline. When the cost-cutters at bookstores and publishers start snipping their budgets, it's easy to imagine Treeline, a program filled with potential but short on results, just might go by the wayside.<br /><br />Well, after two full days on Edelweiss, I can honestly say that Rubin is well on his way to changing the industry in a drastic way. Each buy took a little longer than it would have taken using a paper catalog, but I should be able to get that time back when I dump the order directly into our Point of Sale system rather than having to enter each title of the purchase order by hand.<br /><br />Edelweiss is organized by catalog just like the publisher's mailings, and that's how I bought the lists. It is possible to reorganize the catalogs on Edelweiss and look at a publisher's whole list by category or date. That's what I planned to do with the Penguin hardbacks, but I was thwarted. When I brought up all of the fiction titles, the rep's notes, which contained co-op incentives, disappeared. It was frustrating, but an email to Rubin resulted in the glitch being fixed by the end of the day.<br /><br />The more challenging and entertaining appointment was the Harper's children's buy. Zeck and I have a routine (we are both gregarious East Coast guys) that usually distracts everyone else in the office. The day is spent thrusting and parrying over the merits of Harper's books, co-op, publishing philosophy, as well as our bookstore's buying policies, independent stores' reluctance to change and whatever happens to be in the news that day. Add in the fact that I hadn't bought a major children's list in over a year, the confusion of learning Edelweiss and Rubin's high energy presence and it was quite a day in the office.<br /><br />The next day Penguin rep Tom Benton and I were able to power through the Putnam, Viking, Riverhead and Penguin Press catalogs in just over four hours. His appointment was noticeably calmer then Zeck's. We were both a little more familiar with the mechanics of the ecatalog and Tom's demeanor is much more low key. Instead of a fencing match, our appointments are more like a civil conversation between old friends. We trade ideas about what songs to download from emusic and consult the baseball schedule before making our summer appointment. Also, with Rubin off skiing in the Colorado high country, we were able to proceed more like a normal appointment.<br /><br />During the Harper meeting, Rubin quickly typed in notes every time Zeck or myself stumbled over a difficulty in the program. Why can't we assign department categories to books when we are in the title list view? How can we tell whether a comparable title mentioned by the publisher is a hardback or paperback? Shouldn't this page load quicker? What is this buyer rating feature?<br /><br />We spent most of the day in the single title detail screens, going title by title through the catalog. I would have preferred scrolling down the title list screen that shows dozens of titles and then just darting in and out of the detail screens but this just wasn't practical because the title list screen took a little too long to load. Rubin left determined to increase the speed of the list page and was already emailing his programmers with ideas before the appointment ended.<br /><br />One of the catalog's features is that the reps can rate the priority of the titles and buyers can sort by the priority level. Zeck had rated a couple dozen at high priority, and in the future I would probably start with those titles. Going title by title through the catalog, it was interesting to see which ones popped out as priority titles.<br /><br />I loved having the comparable books a single click away rather than having to type in the ISBN. The other great thing about seeing the author's previous title in Edelweiss is that the sales and inventory data for the first three months after the book was released come from Treeline. In our POS system if a title is over a year old we lose this monthly data. These out-of-the-gate sales are critical for determining an initial buy, and for the first time ever, I was able to see it on older titles.<br /><br />I also appreciated that Edelweiss is adding up your buy as you go along. That was particularly critical since I was intent on ordering less this year. During the Penguin buy, I was determined to cut at least 20% off of last year's buy. It was great to have a running tally of the dollars spent as I went along. Unfortunately, Penguin made this task of cutting dollars fairly easy by publishing a pretty weak list this season. Hopefully, the presence of Thomas Pynchon's new novel, <em>Inherent Vice, </em>which Tom described as "the most accessible Pynchon ever" will help redeem the list.<br /><br />I found that I relied on Zeck and Benton more than usual during these appointments. This might have been because the difficulty of dealing with a new program made it a bit harder to focus on the titles or that I needed more help in deciding which piece of the abundant information to give credence. Harper sometimes listed 25 comparable titles for a children's picture book or teen fiction title. I'd turn to Zeck with a forlorn look in my eyes and he'd invariably tell me to compare the book to <em>Marley and Me </em>which seemed to be listed half the time.<br /><br />Penguin actually had the opposite problem -- a lack of information. Putnam at least populated its catalog with cover images, descriptions, quotes and an occasional comparable title, but Penguin Press frequently had no information whatsoever accompanying its titles. One piece of information that I had on the Penguin Press catalog was Tom's suggested orders. Those suggestions would have been more effective if they weren't hovering in the middle of an empty screen. Reviewing those titles, I'd look at Tom's lonely suggestion and ask him if it was perhaps based on more information than I could see. We both peered at his paper catalog with its scribbled notes about print runs and publicity and tried to come up with a number.<br /><br />When my buying appointment with John Zeck was finally over (Harper's children's catalog alone contained 232 items, and that didn't include Greenwillow or Hyperion), we were too exhausted to attempt a marketing meeting. Next meeting I might tell him to just sort out his top 100 titles before we sit down. Tom Benton and I decided to meet with the store's marketing manager after we'd completed all of the online catalogs (significantly fewer titles than Harper) and save the old-fashioned Dorling Kindersley's and Rough Guides' paper catalogs for another day.<br /><br />As I was doing the buys, I was using Edelweiss' tagging feature to highlight different titles for our store's newsletter, displays and possible events. Our marketing manager opened up the catalog, sorted it by the tags and instantly had the information she needed. She cut and pasted the title and ISBN info from the catalogs, and the marketing appointment took half the time it normally does. I think I can safely say she was an instant convert to the ecatalogs.<br /><br />On reflection, I don't think too many buyers will choose to use Edelweiss instead of the publishers' catalogs at this point. Buyers, like many people, are averse to change and it's not clear that the ecatalog is advantageous yet. Looking at all the titles and imprints on screen in the same format (a Putnam title looks like a Viking title) gets a little tedious. I think a few tweaks, especially getting the title list page to load faster and being able to order directly off of that page could change things quickly. Suddenly, the ecatalog would be quicker to buy than the paper ones because it's faster to scroll down a page of books that are mostly skips than to turn page after page.<br /><br />I was extremely impressed with John Rubin's attentiveness to what the reps and I needed and his willingness to make the necessary changes to make the system even better. After all, I was basically the first beta tester and I consider it a bit of a miracle that we were able to do two major buys in the first two days. Hopefully, over the next few months several more teams of curious and intrepid buyers and sales reps will use the program. Their input could mean the difference between revving up that sports car engine he's designed or merely pedaling uphill in one speed.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-25081365282777007262008-12-05T10:09:00.006-07:002008-12-05T12:01:45.311-07:00Slicing and Dicing the Orders<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcITO3QAJweT6EH6j6dMrlAlXdXlEyv_O8zdfCbsY-AZEQlv6rGknI-xhvk5vHBpPaRdvzVCexvLAB8gfWtKe1XFQxwsTeqDVhomGPFykhKKq2Wjg5ztedWOqSf7g9lIC1gMkZA/s1600-h/willing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlcITO3QAJweT6EH6j6dMrlAlXdXlEyv_O8zdfCbsY-AZEQlv6rGknI-xhvk5vHBpPaRdvzVCexvLAB8gfWtKe1XFQxwsTeqDVhomGPFykhKKq2Wjg5ztedWOqSf7g9lIC1gMkZA/s400/willing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276379238109905266" border="0" /></a>I am not very good at doing things in secret. Usually, like right now, I announce my new projects or new ideas (wonderful or awful) on my blog. Twittering, with it's tiny 140-character entries, has also become a nightly habit that soothes my inner bookseller. Let's face it, I'm fairly obnoxious when I'm on to something new.<br /><br />Last Monday I started canceling books off of our frontlist winter purchase orders. These are the books scheduled to arrive in the frozen months of January, February and March. Sales are already frigid during that time of year, and one can only surmise that 2009 winter sales will approach <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Absolute_zero">absolute zero.</a> I feared that I'd get a lot of resistance from my reps and the publishers, so I went about the project quietly.<br /><br />My goal was to pare these already tight orders down another 10% to 20%. That was a modest number. Every year when I analyze my buys, I notice that we sell zero copies of nearly 25% of the titles we bring in. Cut those books out and ultimately reduce returns was my goal.<br /><br />I started with my Harper adult order. My Harper rep is, to employ a euphemism, extremely enthusiastic about his books. Surely, there would be dozens of books to lop off that order. I worried that if I called him and told him of my intention he'd be a tad bit irritated. I printed up our order and began to attack it with a highlighter.<br /><br />The very first book on the order was the paperback of Scott Spencer's <span style="font-style: italic;">Willing</span>. Boy, this was going to be easier then I thought. <span style="font-style: italic;">Willing </span>is hands down the single worst novel that I have managed to finish this decade. Spencer, who made his reputation writing <span style="font-style: italic;">Endless Love, </span>manages to offend everyone with his idiotic plot of a freelance writer going on a high-end traveling sex tour. I drew a quick yellow line through the title despite the fact we sold four copies of the book in hardback.<br /><br />In all, I axed a dozen paperback fiction titles. The hardback titles were more difficult because my initial buys were quite spare, but I managed to trim four titles off of Harper's list. These were books that I only bought in twos. Two is a tepid buy and those titles weren't getting supported by co-op dollars from the publisher or display plans from us. Our chances of selling those titles in a good economy were marginal, now they are nil.<br /><br />Besides cutting out these small books, I went through the orders and began reducing quantities on bigger buys. Instead of 25 copies of Alexander McCall Smith's <span style="font-style: italic;">Tea Time for the Traditionally Built, </span>I figured we could survive with 16 from Random House. Did I really need 10 copies of Anne C. Heller's <span style="font-style: italic;">Ayn Rand & the World She Made? </span>Perhaps six would make a nice face out.<br /><br />Slowly, but surely, the cuts began to add up. We got nearly $2,000 at retail out of both the Random House and Harper orders. During the process, I began to get a better feeling for these lists. I looked up several of the books on Amazon, and I discovered what other stores were ordering of these titles by using Above the Treeline (a computer program that allows us to see other independent stores' sales and ordering information).<br /><br />Unable to do things quietly anymore (it's just not my nature), I mentioned in a twitter post that I was cutting the orders. To my surprise, my Penguin rep called and asked how I was doing the cuts and if I was going to eviscerate his order, could he help. I also spoke to a Random House executive who offered to assist me in reducing our orders to them.<br /><br />I worked with my Penguin rep and a Random House rep yesterday to cut orders and those calls were much less painful then I expected and much more fruitful. We cut the Penguin hardback order by 16.4% and the Random House order by 13.4%, but I feel much more confident that I made the right decisions now. It was interesting to hear the reps admit that they were overzealous on a few titles when they originally sold me and they also informed me that my passion on a few titles was perhaps a bit overboard. We had remarkably open and honest conversations about the real potential of these titles shorn of the usual pressure from sales conferences and sentimentality of personal favorites.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgih2WPPjeLguV6kBbo32ft7xNMwfjUlvXLJFXyk30vYMziNw9arqfCD8NgpD3RiPoi2DuLbEVx2dwJbft0Xac0do5ANVtVsb1C8Tgz59sEFjmcR8yRXatLNHpOBn3DVixUpo2D8Q/s1600-h/nothing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgih2WPPjeLguV6kBbo32ft7xNMwfjUlvXLJFXyk30vYMziNw9arqfCD8NgpD3RiPoi2DuLbEVx2dwJbft0Xac0do5ANVtVsb1C8Tgz59sEFjmcR8yRXatLNHpOBn3DVixUpo2D8Q/s400/nothing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276379374862487842" border="0" /></a><br />We even did a little horse trading. My Penguin rep advised me to cut Stuart Brown's <span style="font-style: italic;">Play</span> from eight to five in exchange for increasing our buy from five to eight on <span style="font-style: italic;">Nothing to Fear</span> by Adam Cohen. Suddenly, a book about F.D.R.'s first 100 days seems much more timely and vital then it did when I originally bought the list in September. As for Brown's <span style="font-style: italic;">Play, </span>five is still a huge buy (the fifth biggest out of the more than 200 stores that report to Above the Treeline) and enough to get it noticed.<br /><br />So far I've cut almost $12,000 at retail off of our winter orders. Hopefully, with the help of a few more reps I can double that number by the end of next week. It's not what I expected to be doing during the holiday season. However, if I can avoid the pain of massive returns and unpayable invoices next year because of ill-timed orders arriving in the dead of winter, then that just might be a present for us, the reps and publishers alike.<br /><br />This is a secret that's just too good not to share.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32743250.post-33619917875711684442008-11-30T16:04:00.010-07:002008-11-30T20:28:06.995-07:00Coherent Thoughts and Russian Literature<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwBV15zHx77FZ-MKFK7p93WQgIPGT2atlG2PDcgWi8QLJ_QQpIoxblMQzqP_hLg6sUELQprUgZaWpiFhu-eW8fU_1iUpE9V8XR25DNlLgR7kICCMXweL6gFIb_8lUg7M13_2pHw/s1600-h/Martina+Penguin.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274614405108232434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBwBV15zHx77FZ-MKFK7p93WQgIPGT2atlG2PDcgWi8QLJ_QQpIoxblMQzqP_hLg6sUELQprUgZaWpiFhu-eW8fU_1iUpE9V8XR25DNlLgR7kICCMXweL6gFIb_8lUg7M13_2pHw/s400/Martina+Penguin.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I am finding it difficult to put together a coherent blog post, or even two thoughts, with a newborn in the apartment. She's up at all hours of the night, short-circuiting my brain functions. The problem is compounded because she has also exhausted my muse (her mother). Instead of stepping in and helping me out, the youngster is seemingly unwilling to give me much feedback on my different ideas. The baby apparently has no discernible opinion on the <a href="http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6609308.html">settlement between Google and the publishers</a>, any feelings about the retail holiday season, or a single idea about a book capable of breaking through the economic morass.<br /><br />I'm left with scattered thoughts and bags under my eyes. Here's a few observations from my last week at the store.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>Can the Vampires Save Christmas?</strong></span><br /><br />Stephanie Meyer and her vampires have taken over the bookselling world. We don't really have any bestsellers besides for Meyer's <em>Twilight</em> and its sequel <em>New Moon. </em>Since Thanksgiving, I've been ask<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IwRXyM4h4SuQRo3_LjhqPRnVq7_RDJx4Zb_Zlc5LDELCPMebaCjNCX2JCztXWjD5xI5fsM-njlJv93gYnpi6wRRrh0XGjxV4rYGyj-QDMyWh2XY4RR0Ht5lBFNZownD5wAjcnQ/s1600-h/new+moon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274615684020385122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IwRXyM4h4SuQRo3_LjhqPRnVq7_RDJx4Zb_Zlc5LDELCPMebaCjNCX2JCztXWjD5xI5fsM-njlJv93gYnpi6wRRrh0XGjxV4rYGyj-QDMyWh2XY4RR0Ht5lBFNZownD5wAjcnQ/s320/new+moon.jpg" border="0" /></a>ed two questions over and over again: Do we have Stephanie Meyer's books? and What is the combination to our bathroom doors? I'm stupid enough that I approach each customer encounter with eagerness and bated breath (hoping that they will ask me for a suggestion on a great new novel or an idea for what to buy their husband) only to have to point the way to a mass market paperback or curse the owner of the store for putting locks on our customer bathrooms.<br /><br />The problem with Meyer's vampires is that it doesn't matter how many of these books that we sell because we simply cannot move enough of them at $7.99 or $11.99 to make it a profitable holiday season. Don't get me wrong, I love selling dozens of these books about hunky vampires to young excited readers everyday, I just miss the $35 price tag of <em>Harry Potter</em>. I'm hoping that the collectors edition of <em>Twilight</em> priced at $30 takes off.<br /><br />It seems that everyone has caught the Meyer fever. A group of young women from the bookstore accompanied the sixth-grade daughter of our children's buyer to the movie <em>Twilight</em>. Their reviews, besides for the middle-schooler, were either tepid or filled with qualifications, but they seemed to thoroughly enjoy the outing. I did find it interesting that a couple of our staff members developed flu-like symptoms within a week.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>Customers Concerned About Us<br /></strong></span><br />Our business was fairly brisk on the day after Thanksgiving. We were down just a point or two from last year's Black Friday's totals. I found that encouraging. It was fueled largely by tourists in town visiting relatives for the holidays. The regular customers who came in expressed a tremendous level of concern for the store's welfare.<br /><br />"How are you guys handling the economy?" was the main question I got. When I related to them that we were doing okay until November (one of the worst months in the store's 35-year history), a look of fear interrupted their cheerful countenances. "Surely, people can still afford books," they often respond, patting my hand. I thank them for coming in and then I pitch our January 1st sale.<br /><br />I'm sure most people in Boulder can still afford books. Home prices haven't really fallen here and foreclosures are almost unheard of, but people's stock portfolios and 401ks must be a little lighter. The truth is, right now no one wants to buy anything including books whether they can afford to or not. Perhaps reminding them of our 25% off sale will induce them to spend a little more money with us.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>A Valuable Sense of Community</strong></span><br /><br />I've been amazed by the amount of goodwill that I've received since Martina was born. Various members of the bookstore staff brought over dinner every night for a week. My sales reps have sent dozens of cards and many presents. Several customers have stopped me on the sales floor or specifically come in to ask for me and offer congratulations.<br /><br />We are in a business that truly values people and relationships and for that I am eternally grateful. It's that thought and all of the people who have enriched my life that makes plowing through these tough times bearable.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><strong>Don't All Babies Love Russian Novelists?</strong><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSqfG3tQGQthralJiDe6tpDFMNGgnFZHeGe4uVdNxvymUxc5JwcNn2Z0sm0iFwqz7Zy9FDI53T6chpgO6x2blIXlRQGxV0n7UJa9MXv-JJ5TTEsFkUzLRaAkwmyzY7InC_gxwTg/s1600-h/Martina+-+Tolstoy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274612356929928066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmSqfG3tQGQthralJiDe6tpDFMNGgnFZHeGe4uVdNxvymUxc5JwcNn2Z0sm0iFwqz7Zy9FDI53T6chpgO6x2blIXlRQGxV0n7UJa9MXv-JJ5TTEsFkUzLRaAkwmyzY7InC_gxwTg/s320/Martina+-+Tolstoy.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I haven't quite found my groove yet when it comes to reading books to the baby. She can't really appreciate picture books because as a newborn her vision isn't up to snuff and I can't bring myself to read her silly nursery rhymes when I know that she can't understand the words. Instead, I decided to use the time to read her some great literature. Perhaps, it would somehow sink in.<br /><br />For a couple of days, I was reading her Richard Yates' <em>Reservation Road</em>, but a tale about suburban angst and relationship disenchantment, regardless of how well it was written, felt inappropriate. We moved on to Tolstoy's <em>Anna Karenina</em>. I was eager to share with her the 2001 translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. We started out great, but by page 12 she was crying every time I stumbled over Stepan Arkadyich's name. Who knows what would have happened had I persisted until Princess Kitty Shcherbatsky entered the text? I might have sent her screaming at the mere mention of Russian literature for the rest of her life.<br /><br />Instead of reading I tried singing, despite being vocally challenged. I can't carry a tune, and I wouldn't know a key if it was in a dirty diaper. I gave "Rock-a-bye Baby" my all, until I realized on about the 50th ti<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaWExcZpgEMHo4-JyXW_5klaHeVLG9kpYE1dspkqWPYWzTIoCoSdpiUpz2cwM0cAhrYenxkYILCexIjFe5zmZpPrEupFXVUliZ-VekgfveHlfH6YuD0XuvHZtqLgL7TYCdtAWxg/s1600-h/Clash460.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274611064497304850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaWExcZpgEMHo4-JyXW_5klaHeVLG9kpYE1dspkqWPYWzTIoCoSdpiUpz2cwM0cAhrYenxkYILCexIjFe5zmZpPrEupFXVUliZ-VekgfveHlfH6YuD0XuvHZtqLgL7TYCdtAWxg/s320/Clash460.jpg" border="0" /></a>me through that it is an atrocious song. Why is the cradle in the tree? Is it war time? Is this some horrible prank? A botched kidnapping, perhaps? Why is it comforting to sing about the cradle (with the baby in it) falling out of the tree?<br /><br />I never liked the song anyway. Before long, I noticed that I was humming a Clash song that seemed to calm her down. I couldn't remember any words except the three-word refrain, "Drug-stabbing time." Well, that sounded just as soothing as "Rock-a-bye Baby." At least nothing awful is happening to a sleeping infant.Arsen Kashkashianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10185747887959535224noreply@blogger.com5