27 August 2009

I Fear I'm Not Alone in This...

Buying books is an irrational act. I can prove this with one quick look around my office. I’ve got a thousand books here and I’ve not read half.

Why is this? For decades my excuse was “I’m running a bookstore.” Although my customers were buying and sometimes reading books, I didn’t have time for that. After I finished staff meetings, meetings with book salespeople, email and promotions, fixing things, thinking about fixing things, hiring people and the opposite, working the front counter, shipping and receiving, going to trade shows and education seminars, and the rest, I was way too busy to read books.

Booksellers don’t read. It’s as simple as that. If they do read, it’s in the corners of time, around the edges of space, in other dimensions. In this world: not enough time.

Now that I’m several years into the space sardonically referred to as “retired” I find I do have more time to read. Not enough time, but more.

Like an already-gorged gourmand who eats out too much, I find myself in bookstores wherever I go, and rarely leave without a couple of books under my arm. Often I get to read part of them, but usually I’m distracted by the next new bag of books from somewhere. It never stops, nor do I wish it to.

And I fear I’m not alone. Many listeners to and readers of this show have told me they can’t stop acquiring books, and reading them. It’s a lovely obsession.

Not long ago I found on a bookshelf in my study an uncorrected bound galley of a book to be published in April, 1998. I dug right in, eleven years late: “Sleeping Where I Fall” by Peter Coyote, the famous actor and reformed hippie. This is a scary good book. Why isn’t it more famous?

It will be good therapy for me, and perhaps instructive for you, if I describe my latest acquisitions here. First step: Admit you are powerless to stop acquiring and reading books.

First, the new, unread by anyone books: I recently purchased Peter W. Stearn’s “A Journey in Time,” a gorgeous hardbound art book depicting the wildflowers of Mendocino county arranged by month of bloom. This is a book I hand–sold many times but never snagged for myself. Now I can tell the difference between Queen Anne’s Lace and Yampah, Yarrow and Cow’s Parsnip, Angelica and Pearly Everlasting.

Other new books I plan to use or read or both: “The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes, Volume One,” “Wildlife of the North Atlantic” “The People of the Sea” by David Thomson, “Waking Up in Eden” by Lucinda Fleeson, “Coastal Wildflowers of the Pacific Northwest,” “The Kingdom by the Sea” by Paul Theroux, “Coasting” by Jonathan Raban, “The 25th Hour” by David Benioff, “The Spies of Warsaw” by Alan Furst, “The Language of Bees” by Laurie R. King.

Then there’s a group of books I picked up on various whims in various used bookstores. You’ll see the patterns: “Merda! The REAL Italian You Were Never Taught in School” by Roland Delicio, “The Italian Secretary” by Caleb Carr, “The Piano Shop in the Left Bank” by Thad Carhart, “Gentlemen, More Dolce Please!, An Irreverent Memoir of Thirty-five Years in the Boston Symphony Orchestra” by Harry Ellis Dickson, “Real Men Don’t Rehearse, Adventures in the Secret World of Professional Orchestras” by Justin Locke, “Evenings with the Orchestra” by Hector Berlioz, “The Oxford Book of American Literary Anecdotes,” “The Monopoly Companion,” and “Kipling, A Selection of His Stories and Poems.”

The Kipling book was poised on a sidewalk cart in very good condition outside a metaphysical bookstore in Ashland, Oregon. When I saw the book I knew it finally was time to get to know Rudyard Kipling. I don’t know why that made sense, but that’s what I was thinking as I picked it up and stroked its curry-yellow dust jacket.

Each of these books (maybe with the exception of the Monopoly book) was purchased for a reason. Some I’m keeping for dessert, like the Furst and the Carr; others to read or re-read as background for future travel adventures.

And a few good literary anecdotes might come in handy some time.

And I’ve always wanted to finally, just finally, win one darn game of Monopoly.

.....



20 August 2009

Andy Ross: Good Pitch / Bad Pitch

Andy Ross used to own Cody’s Books in Berkeley. Cody’s is no more. Many people miss the original, historic store on Telegraph, and the more modern store on 4th street, both now closed forever. A few even miss the short-run attempt to establish a Cody’s in downtown San Francisco.

Wishing won’t bring Cody’s back, but Andy Ross continues on in his new role as independent agent to the stars, or anyway to writers of narrative non-fiction, history, politics and current events, science, journalism, and cultural subjects in general.

Recently, Andy wrote a useful essay titled “Good Pitch / Bad Pitch: How to Impress those Jaded Publishers.” In the interest of helping would-be writers get published -- as if -- here are excerpts:

Andy begins: ...It is a tough world out there. And if you aren't a disgraced ex-governor of Alaska, it is pretty hard to get a book contract. So here are some tips and examples of weak and strong pitches to make in your book proposal.

Weak: I am willing to go on an 8 city tour (they probably won't send you, and this indicates that you might have unrealistic expectations. They used to let you travel first class and stay at the Ritz Carlton... expect to go by Greyhound).

Strong: I am willing to schedule an 8 city tour at my expense (any other ideas that include "at my expense" are always popular with publishers).

Weak: This would be a great story on Oprah (Uh-huh. It's also the oldest story in the book. Similarly unrealistic).

Strong: I am sleeping with Oprah's hairdresser. (If you are going to pitch media connections, they should be concrete and have reasonable expectations of results. But don't oversell yourself. They can smell b.s.).

Weak: I am willing to go to book signings at my local bookstore (They know that anyway. And this won't sell books).

Strong: I have arranged presentations with the staff at Google. Steve Jobs loves my book and has agreed to purchase 5,000 copies to give to key employees at Christmas time. They are also interested in purchasing non-verbatim electronic multi-media rights as an (application) for the IPod. (This is too good to be true, so you better get Steve to write a letter to that effect. Publishers love sales outside of bookstores. It is like extra money).

Weak: I will reluctantly agree to be on Fresh Air, schedule permitting. (If you are not going to aggressively flog the product, this will not be well received).

Strong: Film rights for this product have been optioned to Stephen Spielberg (There might be a possibility here, but there are many options out with few movies ever made).

Very Strong: Film Rights have been SOLD to Stephen Spielberg. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are signed up. Currently being filmed on location in Montana. (This pitch doesn't happen very often).

Strong: I am the extremely charismatic and controversial governor of Alaska and vice-presidential candidate. (Don't worry that she is inarticulate, has nothing to say, and can't write).

Almost as strong: I am the extremely charismatic and controversial governor of Alaska who has quit with disgrace and lack of dignity. (Hey, it's all about celebrity).

Weak: My friends loved this book. (Your friends won't tell you the truth).

Strong: My mother is the disgraced former governor of Alaska and she loved this book. My former boyfriend hated this book and will go public and tell tawdry and salacious tales about me. (In this business, there is no such thing as bad publicity).

So much for Andy’s suggestions to writers. If you’d like to read Andy’s full blog, you can point your browser to andyrossagency.wordpress.com

NOTES:



13 August 2009

Grandma Roseby's Story

News from all over the place...

One hundred and five year-old Clara Roseby reads six books a week. She lives in Pembrokeshire, Wales. She likes a good, old-fashioned story, but nothing American, and no swearing, please, we’re British.

Her daughter picks out books for her from the newly refurbished library in Fishguard, twelve miles to the north, on the shores of the Irish sea.

The librarians figure Grandma Roseby has borrowed more than 10,000 books in the past 35 years. And as one local politician likes to point out, it’s all free.

Go Clara! If only we had free libraries in America. Wait a minnit... we do! And when’s the last time you visited your local library?

On another but related subject, news reports say “Competition is growing in the eBook reader market.” Amazon’s Kindle, Sony’s Ereader, and others, want you to download books to read on their machines.

Everyone in the biz is talking about this latest assault on the tradition of ink, paper and glue books sold in brick and mortar, or board and nail palaces called independent bookstores. Big Box outfits and tax-free Internet sales sites have dinged the independents, but many persevere quite happily. Will E books be a final blow?

I’m thinking no. For several basic reasons, electronic books will likely remain a subsidiary market to traditional paper books. Consider the basic essence of a book compared to an electronic device.

Since the first days of moveable type no one has owned “the book.” By contrast, electronic readers belong to particular corporations. They have proprietary formats. They are not compatible with competitors, unless they strike a deal.

The content of e book readers also is proprietary. Even if the book is free, or out of copyright, you are merely licensed to read it. In the end and in the fine print, you do not own what you download.

Amazon has the ability to electronically reach into your machine and simply delete a book, even one you thought you had purchased outright. Amazon recently did just this with copies of George Orwell’s novel “1984" without asking anyone. Overnight the book disappeared from Kindles everywhere. Something to do with legal rights to a particular edition.

Reconsider the printed book. It’s not just monks in cloisters anymore. Anyone and everyone can produce, distribute, sell and read books. No limit to how many you can own. No one sneaks into your study and takes back a book you bought.

With a Kindle in your pocket you will never know for sure when information is being collected about you and your reading habits. What’s to keep Amazon or Sony from inserting live adverts into your book? Internet links to products mentioned in a story? What’s to stop them?

If you buy a book and take it to a grassy bank above a quiet stream to read Shelley or Keats, or “Eat, Pray, Love” or whatever, it’s your quiet stream and your quiet book, good for several lifetimes, pretty much forever. Your book does not need to be upgraded. It will not become obsolete, require a software update or need to be recharged.

Your own personal, private, permanent ownership of what you read, and the printed book’s infinite portability and infinite lifetime is why books have endured. They will continue to be easier to use and more dependable than reading machines.

I’m pretty sure Grandma Roseby in Pembrokeshire would agree with me.

NOTES:

Grandma Roseby’s story...

Blogger Tony Bradley on the PC World online site discussed ebook readers...

Just for fun...

06 August 2009

A seamless web of green: The Shallow Water Dictionary

It’s one of those blissful quiet mornings... foggy but no wind, computer but no Internet service... forest but no forest fire.

Ensconced in this blissful quiet space, I picked out a small but lovely book from my favorite bookshelf (favorite bookshelf: the one I can reach from where I’m sitting) and rediscovered a small gem:: “Shallow Water Dictionary” by scholar and Harvard professor in the History of Landscape, John R. Stilgoe.

Professor in the History of Landscape. I wonder how many students aspire to that particular discipline?

This book immediately puts you in the mood to drop oars into shallow water, and manoeuver among the salty dunes of New England. The subtitle of “Shallow Water Dictionary” is “A Grounding in Estuary English.” Stilgoe uses words and the history of words to paint a poetical picture of the coastside transitional lands he clearly loves.

He begins, “In the shallows the oarsman pulls precisely, for in the shallows, a wrong stroke or two, a slight falling off before the wind, means a gentle grounding in clean white sand or grayish-black mud. Navigating the shoals and sandbars and negotiating the creeks meandering through almost limitless salt marsh require continuous picking along, constant choosing, countless corrections of course.”

It soon becomes apparent that the author is using precise nautical terms and their etymology in order to approach a visual description of a very particular landscape. He aims to renew local language and understand the environment by careful attention to how it is named.

Reading Stilcoe is refreshing and reassuring. Refreshing because very few writers paint as well, and reassuring because his brief essay is connected to eons of coastal seafaring and coastal lore.

Another way to say it: It’s as if Henry Thoreau wrote a dictionary.

Stilcoe continues, “Where the rower... meets no other humans, language might be as unimportant as watches or clothes or credit cards. But the rower... intends a book, a landscape history of the realm of estuary and marsh, and pulls as an explorer, as a chronicler... Oriented toward the visual, he still needs to write, and in writing wonders about the quiet, almost mute vocabulary of his neighborhood, his environs. He wonders as he pulls along the creeks. In the quiet, the old language barely whispers.”

He goes on to define “creek” and brackish, seaward, seamarks, skiff, skeg, and many more resonant terms, all the while conveying the majesty of a land that stretches from Maine to Cape Fear in North Carolina.

The entire book might take you an hour to read, but you will savor it much longer than that. It’s a small dark blue hardcover published by Princeton Architectural Press without jacket, and it comes with a ribbon to mark your place. It’s a gift book without any of the dazzle associated with pop culture.

The “Shallow Water Dictionary” is a quiet contribution to deeper understanding. It will put you in the mood to launch your skiff into shallow waters, and go exploring yourself in the landscape of sights, sounds, and words.

NOTES:

“Shallow Water Dictionary” by John R. Stilgoe. Princeton Architectural Press hard cover $14.95. ISBN 1568984081. Currently in print, but difficult to obtain. There are used copies out there for sale, too.

Other titles by John R. Stilgoe: Train Time: Railroads and the Imminent Reshaping of the United States Landscape; Landscape and Images; Lifeboat; Outside Lies Magic: Discovering History and Inspiration in Ordinary Places; Alongshore; Borderland: Origins of the American Suburb, 1820-1939; Metropolitan Corridor : Railroads and the American Scene; Common Landscape of America, 1580 to 1845.

His web site: http://www.people.fas.harvard.edu/~stilgoe/index.html

"Yet the marshes are almost invariably deserted, at least away from the major channels. People tend to find them uninteresting, not variegated enough, monotonous, boring, although finding out what such people think, when such people avoid the marshes, proves a little difficult. Exploring in what is at first glance a seamless web of green undoubtedly pales besides roaring about the open ocean in an engine boat..."