
New York Lives:
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
Did self ever mention how humongous her PILE OF STUFF is? LOL. Self has no clue how it got that big.
Nevertheless, she is making inroads.
Today, she finally gets to the huge December 2013 issue of The New York Times Book Review.
It is, naturally, full of reviews of interesting books self wants to add to her reading list. And it has the annual “100 Notable Books List.” A couple of selections from that list:
Fiction
Nonfiction
There’s also:
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
The Pile of Stuff is incredible, simply incredible. She probably hasn’t looked at it for over six months. This morning, she went through a New York Times Book Review from about a year ago. Here are the books that most piqued her interest:
Recommended by crime writer Patricia Cornwell in the By the Book section: Chris Kyle’s American Sniper, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and “anything by Marcella Hazan.”
Ann Patchett’s The Patron Saint of Liars and This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage (Harper, $27.99)
Autobiography of a Corpse, by Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky, translated by Joanne Turnbull (New York Review of Books, $15.95)
The Isle of Youth: Stories, by Laura van den Berg (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, $14)
In the Memorial Room, by Janet Frame (Counterpoint, $24)
The Letters of Ernest Hemingway, Volume 2: 1923 – 1925, edited by Sandra Spanier, Albert J. DeFazio III and Robert W. Trogdon (Cambridge University Press, $40)
The Discovery of Middle Earth: Mapping the Lost World of the Celts, by Graham Robb (W. W. Norton, $28.95)
Self has never signed up for NaNoWriMo (Also, she has never applied to UCross. Self’s just saying. Nothing against Wyoming. You know what? Right this very second, she’s going to apply for a residency to UCross!)
The New York Times Book Review she is reading is the one from Nov. 17, 2013 (Her pile of back-reading is HUMONGOUS! Simply HUMONGOUS!)
A little over a month ago, when self was cooling her heels in southern California, she looked over Fall course offerings for UCLA Extension and saw that there was a class offered on “Achieving Your NaNoWriMo Goal.” And she quickly contacted the Program Administrator to indicate that she wished to enroll. She was informed that the class was “on-site.” And ya know, that’s 10 weeks of weekly on-site meetings, and self can’t commit to being in one place for 10 weeks. Seriously! So she regretfully had to pass up taking the class.
Here’s an excerpt from the article on NaNoWriMo 2013 which was in the Nov. 17, 2013 NYTBR:
We’re now past the halfway point of National Novel Writing Month — or, as it’s inelegantly shortened online, NaNoWriMo — when aspiring authors aim to produce 50,000 words during November. More than 277,000 writers signed up for the sprint this year. Erin Morgenstern, whose best-selling novel The Night Circus originated as part of the exercise, once advised: “Don’t delete anything. Just keep writing. And if you don’t want to look at it, change the font to white.”
Excellent advise! How does one register for NaNoWriMo 2014?
Stay tuned.
Self still has a huge backlog of NYTBR issues to go through. She pulled them out of her hopelessly muddled “Pile of Stuff” and started to go through them. The very first one she started to read was the January 5, 2014 issue.
Front page review of Chang-rae Lee’s science fiction novel, On Such a Full Sea.
Watching a talented writer take a risk is one of the pleasures of devoted reading, and On Such a Full Sea provides all that and more. It’s a wonderful addition not only to Chang-rae Lee’s body of work but to the ranks of “serious” writers venturing into the realm of dystopian fantasy.
Lost self at “dystopian,” everyone’s favorite catch-all one-word description for the Apocalyptic Future, now swarming the world on hundreds of reviews of the film The Hunger Games: Catching Fire.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
Boring, OK? Boring.
Self is cutting off her subscription.
There is only one review she enjoyed reading: the one by Stacey D’Erasmo, on The Apartment, a short novel (193 pages) by Greg Baxter.
Stay tuned.
Two days since Thanksgiving ended. Though self had no one over, the clatter in her head can be quite deafening, a clatter the sole other occupant in this house is always happy to add to. Every day brings a new spurt of instructions, whether it’s when to mail bills or covering windows with cardboard. Mother-in-law said it best: “My son is such a character.”
Now he has stepped out, without any prior warning: A friend of his from Ateneo, Randy, came over. Self imagined both would want to watch the games. But suddenly, after she’d bought all manner of chips and snacks and drinks and ham and what-have-you, she arrived to find the two men preparing to go out. What is self going to do with all this food? She’ll send it home with Randy, probably. It’s either that or scarf on chips for days on end.
Anyhoo, after self watered a bit, she settled down in the tiny room she calls her “Office.” This has all her memorabilia, all her saved literary magazines, all her knick-knacks. Through the French doors, she can look right into the backyard:
Now self settles down to tackle a huge pile of back issues of The New York Times Book Review. There’s a “Let’s Read About Sex” issue, and the October 20, 2013 issue, which has more than the usual number of “Women’s Literature” reviews. Self is bored reading about sex in the staid NYTBR. It would be much more fun reading books about sex if she were reading something like Rolling Stone. So she goes for the October 20, 2013 issue.
A short story collection by T. C. Boyle is reviewed in this issue. Self really loves T. C. Boyle so she is happy to read the review (and would read anything by him, regardless of whether the review was good or bad). There’s a review of a novel about the forty-ish Bridget Jones, and a review of a Scandinavian novel in which a traumatized woman is plagued by the conviction that her husband is guilty of a heinous crime (Don’cha just love those traumatized women in Scandinavian novels who are so . . . so noir-ishly fragile in temperament! After all, there can never be another Lisbeth Salander. That’s over. That’s done. Now it’s back to the Scandinavian women of an Ingmar Bergman movie)
Of the four crime novels reviewed by Marilyn Stasio in this issue (Sunday, October 20, 2013), two are set in Florence. How absolutely fabulous! That’s Florence, Italy, in case you were wondering. The third is set in Manhattan (It’s by Jeffery Deaver, who writes about Manhattan like nobody’s business). And the last one is set in a small town in Connecticut — but in 1956. Self likely won’t get to the Connecticut novel, as she is easily confused by mysteries that happen in the recent past (Mysteries about the way, waaaaay past are much easier on her nerves. At least, everything’s different, not like the ones set in the 1950s, where self keeps forgetting the decade and then wonders why she is so confused)
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.