The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf
Kathryn Davis
Women, she would say, were the world's inventors; it was only after the fact that men came along and discovered whatever it was that women had already invented. The act of invention was basically lawless, whereas the act of discovery required the making of laws, an endless cataloguing, describing, judging, and ultimately, dismantling of the thing discovered.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Food and Literature
Yeah, regularly posting to blogs is not my strong point.
I'm thinking of turning this into a food and literature blog. I have a separate food blog (which I also post in infrequently) but the website is going to end come August so I was thinking of transferring it over here. Food and books are two of my favorite things, and surely your favorite things too, so why shouldn't they be together in a perfect blog union?
And maybe then I'd post more.
I'm thinking of turning this into a food and literature blog. I have a separate food blog (which I also post in infrequently) but the website is going to end come August so I was thinking of transferring it over here. Food and books are two of my favorite things, and surely your favorite things too, so why shouldn't they be together in a perfect blog union?
And maybe then I'd post more.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Thirty-two Statements
Thirty-two Statements About Writing Poetry
Marvin Bell
(1937-)
Here are a few of my favorite statements by Bell:
9. The I in the poem is not you but someone who knows a lot about you.
19. You need nothing more to write poems than bits of string and thread and some dust from under the bed.
24. The dictionary is beautiful; for some poets, it's enough.
Thirty-two Statements About Writing
Catherynne M. Valente
(1979-)
Valente responded to Bell's list, mostly to show that lists about writing are useless. I don't like her list as much, but it has some good points:
11. ...write something every day, even if it's a grocery list. Groceries can be poetry if you allow it. Carrots and ice, lemons and salt.
14. Language is more important than you think. It is not a tool, it is, in the end, the sum of literature. Language has a taste, a texture, a smell.
25. You are not entitled to a book deal. Maybe it'll happen for you, maybe it won't, but one universal truth is this: no one likes an asshole who thinks he's owed something.
28. Own your work. No matter how it looks now, remember that when you wrote it, it lit up the page and melted the pen. Self-hate is a waste of time.
I wrote my own list. I can post the whole thing if anyone wants me to, but here are some of my statements:
1. Write what you can’t stop thinking about.
4. Read a lot. Write a lot. Those are the best and most important ways to become a good writer.
5. Reading how-to books on writing mostly serves as distraction.
10. You have to write the bad stuff to get to the good, and then you have to write more of the bad.
11. Writing the bad is just as important as writing the good.
20. It is less accurate to say “good writing” as it is to say “writing that appeals to an audience.”
Marvin Bell
(1937-)
Here are a few of my favorite statements by Bell:
9. The I in the poem is not you but someone who knows a lot about you.
19. You need nothing more to write poems than bits of string and thread and some dust from under the bed.
24. The dictionary is beautiful; for some poets, it's enough.
Thirty-two Statements About Writing
Catherynne M. Valente
(1979-)
Valente responded to Bell's list, mostly to show that lists about writing are useless. I don't like her list as much, but it has some good points:
11. ...write something every day, even if it's a grocery list. Groceries can be poetry if you allow it. Carrots and ice, lemons and salt.
14. Language is more important than you think. It is not a tool, it is, in the end, the sum of literature. Language has a taste, a texture, a smell.
25. You are not entitled to a book deal. Maybe it'll happen for you, maybe it won't, but one universal truth is this: no one likes an asshole who thinks he's owed something.
28. Own your work. No matter how it looks now, remember that when you wrote it, it lit up the page and melted the pen. Self-hate is a waste of time.
I wrote my own list. I can post the whole thing if anyone wants me to, but here are some of my statements:
1. Write what you can’t stop thinking about.
4. Read a lot. Write a lot. Those are the best and most important ways to become a good writer.
5. Reading how-to books on writing mostly serves as distraction.
10. You have to write the bad stuff to get to the good, and then you have to write more of the bad.
11. Writing the bad is just as important as writing the good.
20. It is less accurate to say “good writing” as it is to say “writing that appeals to an audience.”
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Most Delicious Moment
You're wandering through shelves of books in the library. A spine catches your eye; you pull out the book and like the cover and title. On a whim, you check the book out.
You've never heard of the author. You didn't read the flap. You don't even know what genre the books is in; you found it in the adult section. Knowing absolutely nothing about the book, you begin reading.
You will love this book all the more because you met it separated from the world. It will feel like a secret friend, a buried treasure. Reading is an infinitely intimate act.
This sort of scenario rarely happens, at least for me these days. I read books by authors I like, or because a friend recommends them, or because the flaps are intriguing. In other words, I always have preconceived notions. But imagine sitting down with a book exactly as the author intended it: When the author started writing this book they didn't have a flap copy in mind; they weren't writing to an audience that had already read a review of the book. They were simply writing, letting their imagination play.
It's winter break so when I saw an intriguing title at the library, The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters, I grabbed it. I read the flap copy and decided to check it out, but by the time I sat down with the book, I'd completely forgotten what the flap had said. I know nothing of this book but the title.
In the midst of reading the first chapter, I realized I was caught up in almost-painful suspense, wondering where this book could possibly be leading. An ignorant but pretty girl in petticoats who likes to take tea, then a train ride with people in feathered masks, then an operating room-cum-theater, a current of eroticism surfacing. It begins delightful and witty but turns macabre. I was only in the first chapter but there were maybe five hundred pages yet to go. I couldn't guess at a plot arc, I didn't know what genre this was, the book wasn't easily fitting into any category. My imagination sketched out smoky possibilities.
This is the most delicious moment. This is the peak of reading. No matter how good the book is, by the end it will not be as good the smoky lines of possibility. There is nothing as good as the tantalizing unknown. Savor this moment.
You've never heard of the author. You didn't read the flap. You don't even know what genre the books is in; you found it in the adult section. Knowing absolutely nothing about the book, you begin reading.
You will love this book all the more because you met it separated from the world. It will feel like a secret friend, a buried treasure. Reading is an infinitely intimate act.
This sort of scenario rarely happens, at least for me these days. I read books by authors I like, or because a friend recommends them, or because the flaps are intriguing. In other words, I always have preconceived notions. But imagine sitting down with a book exactly as the author intended it: When the author started writing this book they didn't have a flap copy in mind; they weren't writing to an audience that had already read a review of the book. They were simply writing, letting their imagination play.
It's winter break so when I saw an intriguing title at the library, The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters, I grabbed it. I read the flap copy and decided to check it out, but by the time I sat down with the book, I'd completely forgotten what the flap had said. I know nothing of this book but the title.
In the midst of reading the first chapter, I realized I was caught up in almost-painful suspense, wondering where this book could possibly be leading. An ignorant but pretty girl in petticoats who likes to take tea, then a train ride with people in feathered masks, then an operating room-cum-theater, a current of eroticism surfacing. It begins delightful and witty but turns macabre. I was only in the first chapter but there were maybe five hundred pages yet to go. I couldn't guess at a plot arc, I didn't know what genre this was, the book wasn't easily fitting into any category. My imagination sketched out smoky possibilities.
This is the most delicious moment. This is the peak of reading. No matter how good the book is, by the end it will not be as good the smoky lines of possibility. There is nothing as good as the tantalizing unknown. Savor this moment.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Breaking Dawn
Breaking Dawn
Stephenie Meyer
(1973-)
It seems when it comes to Twilight no one is impartial; you either love it or despise it, and many people despise it and make it the butt of their jokes without having even read it. So I'm here to take the middle ground.
Within the first chapter or two of the last book in the Twilight series I seriously considered not reading it after all. The Twilight books have a bad rep for a reason.
There's all together too much whispering in the book. And heartthrob Edward may be physical perfection, but it seems Meyer forgot to give him a personality. So bland. I won't even go into the sexism issue in the books.
Every time a character made a joke, I would be surprised to find myself laughing. Or if Meyer had a good metaphor, I'd be like Wow.
I stuck with the book, and about midway it switched from Bella's perspective to Jacob's. Jacob is a werewolf, and I am so down with the werewolves. Jacob has much more personality than Bella or Edward. Suddenly the book had me. I wanted to do nothing but read it. I realized I hadn't given Meyer enough credit. For all of her problems, she can spin a good plot. And she’s funny.
When it switched back to Bella's point of view, it bogged down again. Back into sappy teenage vampire romance. But after the first few pages of that, it picked up once more. I finished it feeling quite satisfied. I really enjoyed it.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life (Review)
I was not abused, abandoned, or locked up as a child...I am not a misunderstood genius, a former child celebrity, or the child of a celebrity. I am not a drug addict, sex addict, food addict, or recovered anything... I have not survived against all odds. I have not lived to tell. I have not witnessed the extraordinary. This is my story.
So goes the Forward to Amy Krouse Rosenthal's Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. You could call the book an extra-long lyric essay, or an unconventional memoir. As is not difficult to assume from the title, it's a compilation of encyclopedia-like entries of Rosenthal's life, relating to the reader everything from her childhood memories to how she enjoys cleaning her ears with Q-tips. It's funny and endearing. It's easy to relate to and discusses some of the little moments in life people don't often talk about. It shows that the little idiosyncrasies of strangers can be interesting, and catalogs some of those odd serendipitous moments in life we all experience.
This book is like having a conversation with a friend, and Rosenthal encourages a feeling of community by asking for interactions from the readers. On page 101 Rosenthal says she dislikes fictional descriptions of moons, but invites the reader to send her good descriptions of moons, which she posts on her website. She mailed a homemade pie to the one hundredth reader to reply to such a prompt.
As I began reading the encyclopedia, I thought it was witty and brilliant. But it can be tedious; I sometimes felt impatient. Some sections lack a depth that I would appreciate. It being an encyclopedia of Rosenthal herself, it's quite self-involved. This can be annoying.
Conclusion: Worth reading, but best to consume in moderation, like candy.
So goes the Forward to Amy Krouse Rosenthal's Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. You could call the book an extra-long lyric essay, or an unconventional memoir. As is not difficult to assume from the title, it's a compilation of encyclopedia-like entries of Rosenthal's life, relating to the reader everything from her childhood memories to how she enjoys cleaning her ears with Q-tips. It's funny and endearing. It's easy to relate to and discusses some of the little moments in life people don't often talk about. It shows that the little idiosyncrasies of strangers can be interesting, and catalogs some of those odd serendipitous moments in life we all experience.
This book is like having a conversation with a friend, and Rosenthal encourages a feeling of community by asking for interactions from the readers. On page 101 Rosenthal says she dislikes fictional descriptions of moons, but invites the reader to send her good descriptions of moons, which she posts on her website. She mailed a homemade pie to the one hundredth reader to reply to such a prompt.
As I began reading the encyclopedia, I thought it was witty and brilliant. But it can be tedious; I sometimes felt impatient. Some sections lack a depth that I would appreciate. It being an encyclopedia of Rosenthal herself, it's quite self-involved. This can be annoying.
Conclusion: Worth reading, but best to consume in moderation, like candy.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
"Rainbows" from Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life
From Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life
Amy Krouse Rosenthal
(1965-)
"Rainbows"
If rainbows did not exist and someone said wouldn't it be cool to paint enormous stripes of color across the sky, you'd say yes, that would be very cool--impossible, but very cool. Children are totally tuned in to the miracle of rainbows--that's why they are forever drawing them. There's even something divine about spotting a tiny rainbow in a puddle of water or a splotch of gasoline. Oh, look! A rainbow! It would be nice to have some universal ritual connected with rainbows, along the lines of stray penny equals good luck, and car with one headlight equals, say, piddiddle/make a wish. Maybe: See a rainbow, eat a sugar cube. Or see a rainbow, put a dollar in a jar; then when you leave home at eighteen, your mother sends you off with your rainbow money. A friend once told me a story about how he was going through his five-year-old son's backpack and he found a picture of a little boy standing under a rainbow crying. His first thought was, Oh God, my son is having some serious problems. When he asked his son about the picture, he told him that he had been playing at school and he saw a rainbow and it was so beautiful that it made him cry.
Amy Krouse Rosenthal
(1965-)
"Rainbows"
If rainbows did not exist and someone said wouldn't it be cool to paint enormous stripes of color across the sky, you'd say yes, that would be very cool--impossible, but very cool. Children are totally tuned in to the miracle of rainbows--that's why they are forever drawing them. There's even something divine about spotting a tiny rainbow in a puddle of water or a splotch of gasoline. Oh, look! A rainbow! It would be nice to have some universal ritual connected with rainbows, along the lines of stray penny equals good luck, and car with one headlight equals, say, piddiddle/make a wish. Maybe: See a rainbow, eat a sugar cube. Or see a rainbow, put a dollar in a jar; then when you leave home at eighteen, your mother sends you off with your rainbow money. A friend once told me a story about how he was going through his five-year-old son's backpack and he found a picture of a little boy standing under a rainbow crying. His first thought was, Oh God, my son is having some serious problems. When he asked his son about the picture, he told him that he had been playing at school and he saw a rainbow and it was so beautiful that it made him cry.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)