Novelist. Editor. Journalist. Business Writer.
The best latke recipe in the world has returned to the web.
Remember last year’s post, “A Whole Latke Loving Going On“? I told you all about NYCNosh’s awesome damn recipe and wanted to link to them but they had disappeared from the web, so I basically just copied their recipe out of my notebook? Well, I’m happy to report that the Noshers are back–well the site is. And so is the recipe. If you have a love for latkes, use this recipe.
That’s my approach to reading other people’s manuscripts. It’s exhausting for me and terrifying for them, which is why I don’t do it often. I have more thoughts on the subject of giving and receiving constructive criticism over at Jacquelin Cangro’s blog.
This summer I turned in a manuscript to an agent. She sent it off to a reader. A couple of weeks later, I received an email saying, “Here’s the report. Take some time to digest it.”
“Take some time to digest it.” That simple phrase told me everything I needed to know. That simple phrase should also be stamped on the hand of everyone aspiring to be a writer. It’s not easy. But it’s necessary. If you think writing is a realm of inspiration, positive-feelings and pure artistic expression with little regard for the reader, you should stick to posting your free verse to LiveJournal.
Okay. I’m joking. Obviously. It upsets me–yes, now I’m the one upset–that I even have to write that I’m joking about this. My friends and family get this, I’m sure. And people with a sense of humor. But there are some people out there who can somehow decipher these long lists of words we call sentences yet can’t, for the life of them, detect the overall context of a paragraph. One of those idiots might stumble across this post. Of course, it doesn’t help my case that those sorts of idiots are the most easily offended and now I’ve not only set them off by asking for a cat-poisoner, but I’ve insulted them as well.
See what the cats have driven me to!
Continue reading “Anyone Know a Good Cat-Poisoner in Park Slope?”
Here’s one vision of hell:
And so he stands in the mouth of his alley and waits as a megabyte of Internet gossip bloggers lurches by, the men in starlet-at-the-beach bikinis with celluloid-ravaged thighs and acid-seeping hard-ons, the women paunchy droopy naked but for Speedo trunks, weighed heavily about their necks with molten-hot gold pop-star bling, and all of them—a thousand or more—pass by in a long, dense gaggle, pinching and punching each other. Hatcher’s neighborhood has many journalists, and this gossip-blogger group lives at the very edge, at a distant turning of the Parkway where other denizens never actually go in person, where only this subset of bloggers huddle together over laptop screens, zinging each other.
From Robert Olen Butler’s novel, Hell, which is set in, well, Hell. But before you start developing strong feelings either way about the inclusion of gossip bloggers in Hell, in Butler’s version, EVERYONE goes to Hell. Every. One.
This morning while at the cafe stirring things into my coffee, I did what I usually do: Before taking the lid off the cup, I grabbed a napkin and placed it on the counter so that my overturned lid — you know, the part where you put your mouth — would not come into contact with a surface covered with spilled sugar, drying dairy products and, perhaps, the footprints of flies. Basic sanitary precaution, right?
Well, two strange things about it.
1. I rarely notice other people doing this. Even that women who walks around with Purell in her pockets will just put the lid on a plain counter.
2. Why the hell do I do it? It’s not that I don’t follow basic sanitation practices. I wash my hands after going to the bathroom, after all. But thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever washed my hands after getting off the subway and before going to Popeyes–a food I not only eat with my hands, but that eventually leads to some hardcore finger licking. Hell, I’m the kind of guy who will lean his face against a subway pole (only if the car is mostly empty, because otherwise pole-leaning is rude). I’m also the sort who’s left food out of the fridge for an extended period of time and eaten it anyway. And, with the exception of dairy products, I tend to view expiration dates as a rough guideline — Hey, these eggs still SMELL fine.
Also, I don’t get a flu shot.
But, you know, that one piece of paper on the cafe counter will save me every time. Or something.
After reading a post this morning by Darrelyn Saloom in which she revealed that she’d signed a book deal (CONGRATS!) — a result of time spent at the 2011 Louisiana Book Festival — it occurred to me I hadn’t written a follow-up post to my time down there trying to pimp out The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival (Yes! It’s still for sale!).
2011 Louisiana Book Festival, Baton Rouge
One reason I didn’t write — aside from laziness — is that I didn’t want to ruin the picture I know you all have of me jet-setting around the country, arriving in limousines and reading to packed rooms. C’mon. I know that’s how you picture these things. And the reality was, my reading/panel with Lou Dischler was attended by a total of maybe 10 people — four of which who were related to me, one of which was Lou’s mom, and another of which was my good friend Jason’s mom. Thank god for moms. At first I blamed this on the fact that we’d been scheduled at 3:30 and stuck out in the hinterlands of the Welcome Center when almost all of the foot traffic was in the State Capitol. But I’d gone to an earlier panel in the State Capitol featuring Roy Blunt and James Wilcox and there were perhaps 20 people in that room. And I’d heard that other readings in the Capitol building were as thin as ours.
Continue reading “After-Action Report: Louisiana Book Fest and ULL Reading”
I love me some Adele. Great voice, great songs. But can we talk about “Someone Like You,” or as I like to call it, “The Stalker Song.” It’s catchy, it’s haunting, it’s got the following lyrics:
“I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited
But I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it
I had hoped that you would see my face and that you’d be reminded
That for me, it isn’t over”
Now, even if I were single and this was simply an ex-girlfriend showing up on my doorstep, I’d be tempted to call the damn police. But in the context of the song, the dude is married. MARRIED.
Man or woman, imagine that you’re at home and your ex showed up at your door uninvited and said, “Hey, I just couldn’t help it. I had this really fucked up, crazy urge to show up and remind you that, in my mind, we’re still the perfect couple.” I bet you can imagine how your spouse would react — or how you would react if you were the spouse.
Blah, blah, blah. Love. Heart-ache. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I get it. Pain lingers. And, especially when you’re the one who’s been dumped and haven’t found your own someone yet, you can remember that last relationship all through a hazy nostalgia in which everything seemed perfect (though it wasn’t). And even years later, you can be struck by an uncontrollable urge to go seek this person out at home, in a bar, on Facebook and say something like, “I STILL LOVE YOU” or “WE WERE MEANT TO BE.”
But you know what? You are not five years old. You are a grown-ass person and you should be able to control your urges. Especially ones as stupid as these. If you can’t do it for your own dignity, do it for this person who you supposedly love and who, trust me, will not give you a second chance and does not need your crazy ass showing up on the doorstep uninvited.
(Last week, I drove over 1,000 miles while in Louisiana, most of it listening to pop radio, so I may have some more over-thinking on the six songs I heard over and over and over again.)
This morning, while in the shower washing my hair, I wondered to myself, “Why do we always wash our hair before dealing with the rest of our bodies? Who decided that? Was there a meeting?”
Then more questions: ‘HOW DO I KNOW EVERYONE ELSE WASHES THEIR HAIR BEFORE MOVING ON! WHAT IF I’M THE ONLY ONE? WHAT IF I’VE BEEN DOING IT WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME?”
It’s because of exactly this sort of thinking that I’m tempted to limit showers to once a month.
Do you live in or around Baton Rouge? Yes? What are you doing Saturday, Oct. 29? Not a damn thing, that’s what. Because LSU has a bye-week. So instead of sitting around the house fantasizing about strangling Nick Saban with your bare hands, head on out to the Louisiana Book Festival. I’ll be there! Talking (still) about The First Annual Grand Prairie Rabbit Festival. (I swear to you there are others in the works.)
Specifically, I’ll be joining Lou Dischler, author of the really damn awesome My Only Sunshine, for the following discussion:
Mining Cajun Country for Comedy
2:45 PM – 3:30 PM
Capitol Welcome Center, Glass Room
This will be followed by a book signing from 3:45 to 4:30 p.m. at the Barnes & Noble tent.
Obviously, it’s not just us. My home-boy Luis Alberto Urrea will be there (sadly, reading at the same time as me). And a couple of my literary heroes as well, James Wilcox (for writing straight-up craziness set in Louisiana) and James Ed Bradley (for showing that an Opelousas boy can get books published).
Schedule and other information can be found here.
BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!!
What are you doing the following weekend? I’ll tell you what you’re doing. You’re going to be freaking out about the LSU-Alabama game, that’s what. But on the off chance you aren’t, there is a Mini Book Festival at ULL — or as it was called when I went there, USL.
There will be readings Friday and Saturday night at 7:30, as well as a panel on publishing on Saturday afternoon at 2 p.m.
Guess what’s got two thumbs and is reading on Saturday night! This guy.
Actual conversation:
Me: I’m reading on Saturday night.
Mom: What?
Me: Saturday.
Mom: What time?
Me: 7:30
Mom: Well I’m not going.
Me: Didn’t think so.
(Hey, lay off. The woman’s read the book 18 times, sat through two readings and is driving all the way to Baton Rouge for the Louisiana Book Festival. That’s plenty)
At any rate, all readings will be held in HL Griffin Hall, Room 315.
FRIDAY readers: Chantel Langlinais, Nate Pritts, Rhonda dean Robison, Wynn Yarbrough
SATURDAY panel on publishing: Nate Pritts, Ken Wheaton, Micah Ballard, Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
SATURDAY readers: Rob Carney, Ken Wheaton, April Fallon, Micah Ballard, Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
So come on out. It’ll be great to see you.
Also: Sorry if I’m not showing enough respect to the UL Ragin Cajun football schedule. Geaux Cajuns!
I never thought of myself as the poodle type, but in for a penny, in for about 17 pounds worth, I guess. Here is a video of them in action. (The sound craps out because the HTC Evo 3D is a piece of crap when it comes to actually uploading video)
KEN WHEATON 