Welcome to Trailer Park Tuesday, a showcase of new book trailers and, in a few cases, previews of book-related movies.
Bonus: the original trailer for Jonathan Evison’s novel.
Showing posts with label Jonathan Evison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jonathan Evison. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Trailer Park Tuesday: The Fundamentals of Caring
Welcome to Trailer Park Tuesday, a showcase of new book trailers and, in a few cases, previews of book-related movies.
Bonus: the original trailer for Jonathan Evison’s novel.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Friday Freebie: This is Your Life, Harriet Chance! by Jonathan Evison
Congratulations to Mike O’Brien, winner of last week’s Friday Freebie giveaway: Orient by Christopher Bollen.
With Bernard, her husband of fifty-five years, now in the grave, seventy-eight-year-old Harriet Chance impulsively sets sail on an ill-conceived Alaskan cruise that her late husband had planned. But what she hoped would be a voyage leading to a new lease on life becomes a surprising and revelatory journey into Harriet’s past. There, amid the overwhelming buffets and the incessant lounge singers, between the imagined appearances of her late husband and the very real arrival of her estranged daughter midway through the cruise, Harriet is forced to take a long look back, confronting the truth about pivotal events that changed the course of her life. And in the process she discovers that she’s been living the better part of that life under entirely false assumptions. In This Is Your Life, Harriet Chance! Jonathan Evison has crafted a bighearted novel with an endearing heroine at the helm. Through Harriet, he paints a bittersweet portrait of a postmodern everywoman, her story told with great warmth, humanity, and humor. Part dysfunctional love story, part poignant exploration of the mother-daughter relationship, nothing is what it seems in this tale of acceptance, reexamination, and forgiveness.
If you’d like a chance at winning This is Your Life, Harriet Chance!, simply email your name and mailing address to
Put FRIDAY FREEBIE in the e-mail subject line. Please include your mailing address in the body of the e-mail. One entry per person, please. Despite its name, the Friday Freebie runs all week long and remains open to entries until midnight on June 23, at which time I’ll draw the winning name. I’ll announce the lucky reader on June 24. If you’d like to join the mailing list for the once-a-week newsletter, simply add the words “Sign me up for the newsletter” in the body of your email. Your email address and other personal information will never be sold or given to a third party (except in those instances where the publisher requires a mailing address for sending Friday Freebie winners copies of the book).
Want to double your odds of winning? Get an extra entry in the contest by posting a link to this webpage on your blog, your Facebook wall or by tweeting it on Twitter. Once you’ve done any of those things, send me an additional e-mail saying “I’ve shared” and I’ll put your name in the hat twice.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Front Porch Books: June 2015 edition
Front Porch Books is a monthly tally of books--mainly advance review copies (aka "uncorrected proofs" and "galleys")--I've received from publishers, but also sprinkled with packages from Book Mooch, independent bookstores, Amazon and other sources. Because my dear friends, Mr. FedEx and Mrs. UPS, leave them with a doorbell-and-dash method of delivery, I call them my Front Porch Books. In this digital age, ARCs are also beamed to the doorstep of my Kindle via NetGalley and Edelweiss. Note: most of these books won't be released for another 2-6 months; I'm here to pique your interest and stock your wish lists. Cover art and opening lines may change before the book is finally released. I should also note that, in nearly every case, I haven't had a chance to read these books. I'm just as excited as you are to dive into these pages.
by Jonathan Evison
(Algonquin Books)
Hey! I like book titles that end with an exclamation point! And I really like books by authors whose names end with Evison! Given how much I loved West of Here, I guess this one is shooting straight to the top of the To-Be-Read pile!!
Jacket Copy: With her husband Bernard two years in the grave, seventy-nine-year-old Harriet Chance sets sail on an ill-conceived Alaskan cruise only to discover that she’s been living the past sixty years of her life under entirely false pretenses. There, amid the buffets and lounge singers, between the imagined appearance of her late husband and the very real arrival of her estranged daughter, Harriet is forced to take a long look back, confronting the truth about pivotal events that changed the course of her life. Jonathan Evison has crafted a bighearted novel with an endearing heroine at its center. Through Harriet, he paints a bittersweet portrait of a postmodern everywoman with great warmth, humanity, and humor. Part dysfunctional love story, part poignant exploration of the mother/daughter relationship, nothing is what it seems in this tale of acceptance, reexamination, forgiveness, and, ultimately, healing. It is sure to appeal to admirers of Evison’s previous work, as well as fans of such writers as Meg Wolitzer, Junot Díaz, and Karen Joy Fowler.
Opening Lines: (November 4, 1936: Harriet at Zero) Here you come, Harriet Nathan, tiny face pinched, eyes squinting fiercely against the glare of surgical lamps, at a newly renovated Swedish hospital, high on Seattle’s First Hill.
Blurbworthiness: “Has all the wonderful snap and sizzle we’ve come to expect from Jonathan Evison’s work, and as much heart as any novel I’ve read in recent years. [He] packs an entire life--many lives--into this fine book, and does so with the empathy and insight of a writer at the top of his game.” (Ben Fountain, author of Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk)
by Ernest Cline
(Crown)
I still haven’t managed to squeeze Ernest Cline’s previous book, Ready Player One, into my reading queue (I guess this player isn’t quite ready), but there’s something about the first line of Armada (see below) which immediately fires up my cylinders. Maybe it’s the flying saucer.
Jacket Copy: Zack Lightman has spent his life dreaming. Dreaming that the real world could be a little more like the countless science-fiction books, movies, and videogames he’s spent his life consuming. Dreaming that one day, some fantastic, world-altering event will shatter the monotony of his humdrum existence and whisk him off on some grand space-faring adventure. But hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little escapism, right? After all, Zack tells himself, he knows the difference between fantasy and reality. He knows that here in the real world, aimless teenage gamers with anger issues don’t get chosen to save the universe. And then he sees the flying saucer. Even stranger, the alien ship he’s staring at is straight out of the videogame he plays every night, a hugely popular online flight simulator called Armada—in which gamers just happen to be protecting the earth from alien invaders. No, Zack hasn’t lost his mind. As impossible as it seems, what he’s seeing is all too real. And his skills—as well as those of millions of gamers across the world—are going to be needed to save the earth from what’s about to befall it. It’s Zack’s chance, at last, to play the hero. But even through the terror and exhilaration, he can’t help thinking back to all those science-fiction stories he grew up with, and wondering: Doesn’t something about this scenario seem a little…familiar? At once gleefully embracing and brilliantly subverting science-fiction conventions as only Ernest Cline could, Armada is a rollicking, surprising thriller, a classic coming of age adventure, and an alien invasion tale like nothing you’ve ever read before—one whose every page is infused with the pop-culture savvy that has helped make Ready Player One a phenomenon.
Opening Lines: I was staring out the classroom window and daydreaming of adventure when I spotted the flying saucer.
by Matthew Vollmer
(Persea Books)
As if the title of Matthew Vollmer’s previous short story collection (Future Missionaries of America) wasn’t enough to engage me, there’s the opening paragraph of the first story (“Downtime”) in this new book to fully capture my attention. And let’s not overlook the excellent cover design of a pizza box opening onto a forested landscape. The promise of weirdness abounds.
Jacket Copy: Men and women looking for escape from the excess and sham culture in which they live―junk food, souvenirs, and hype (whether for religion or sex)―are led by the power of their own imaginations to places of danger and self-reckoning. In these gritty, imaginative stories set in the mountains and small towns of the South―often in motels, theme parks, or resorts―men and women find themselves at the mercy of an inspiration gone wrong: a man on a tryst is seduced by a ghost; a woman conducts a test to discover who is her true best friend―her husband or her dog; a beleaguered young writing professor goes one step too far while chaperoning the famous writer he finds darkly alluring. In the title story, an ex-high-school basketball player living an uneventful life in her small hometown as a cashier helps her boyfriend rob a lottery winner, and finds herself on an epic journey of fear, deceit, and betrayal.
Opening Lines: In the atrium of the Park Vista hotel, a glass elevator rose from a fern-shrouded vestibule. Its windows rattled, and its lights—softball-sized bulbs bordering its tinted glass—flickered. Ted Barber, who had been standing on the tenth floor watching a boy on the seventh toss paper airplanes into the lobby, didn’t notice the elevator until it stopped on his level. Then, like a man returning to the material world after having disappeared inside a prayer, he raised his head, blinked rapidly, and zeroed in on the the elevator’s sole passenger, who, he was surprised to realize, he recognized. It was his wife, Tavey. She didn’t look good. Then again, she was dead.
by Bill Clegg
(Simon & Schuster)
Recovering crack addict, powerhouse literary agent, bestselling memoirist, and now debut novelist: Bill Clegg touches his book with lightning-tipped fingers and leaves the reader singed from Chapter One when a pot-smoking dude named Silas wakes to the sound of sirens and looks out his bedroom window to see an oily cloud of smoke rising in his neighborhood. I may just rip a few hastily-turned pages as I plow right through this one.
Jacket Copy: On the eve of her daughter’s wedding, June Reid’s life is completely devastated when a shocking disaster takes the lives of her daughter, her daughter’s fiancé, her ex-husband, and her boyfriend, Luke—her entire family, all gone in a moment. And June is the only survivor. Alone and directionless, June drives across the country, away from her small Connecticut town. In her wake, a community emerges, weaving a beautiful and surprising web of connections through shared heartbreak. From the couple running a motel on the Pacific Ocean where June eventually settles into a quiet half-life, to the wedding’s caterer whose bill has been forgotten, to Luke’s mother, the shattered outcast of the town—everyone touched by the tragedy is changed as truths about their near and far histories finally come to light. Elegant and heartrending, and one of the most accomplished fiction debuts of the year, Did You Ever Have a Family is an absorbing, unforgettable tale that reveals humanity at its best through forgiveness and hope. At its core is a celebration of family—the ones we are born with and the ones we create.
Opening Lines: He wakes to the sound of sirens. Many, loud, and very near.
Blurbworthiness: “The force, range, and scope of Bill Clegg’s Did You Ever Have a Family will grab you with its opening lines, and won’t let go until its final one. I can’t recall another novel that so effortlessly weds a nuanced, lyrical voice to an unflinching vision of just how badly things can go for people. I read it deep into the night, all the way through, telling myself it was getting late, I could finish the book in the morning. I finished it that night, however, slept a few hours, and then, in the morning, started reading it again.” (Michael Cunningham, author of The Hours)
by Theo Schell-Lambert
(Little A)
I’m not much of a “sports guy”—don’t watch it, don’t play it, heck, I don’t even know how to spell ESPN—but I’ll read about players and their games every now and then. Especially baseball. I do enjoy a good run around the bases and a satisfying dirt-slide into home. Theo Schell-Lambert’s debut novel looks like it could be on par with some of my favorites: The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach, The Natural by Bernard Malamud, and the criminally under-read High and Inside by Russell Rowland. Play ball!
Jacket Copy: Blake Alexander—“Xandy” to his teammates and fans—is the starting left-fielder for the Carolina Birds of the National League South, until a knee injury in Cincinnati leaves him facing a summer of rehab and a career in doubt. Eager to occupy himself around game time, Xandy trades his glove for an Acer laptop, and each night before first pitch, he settles into a lounger behind his borrowed house to write. What emerges from Xandy’s patio sessions is a series of reflections on the game he loves and beyond—from losing streaks to bullpen phones to his beguiling physical therapist, Jenn, who (like a third base coach) keeps giving him signs he can’t quite read. A winning narrator, with an observational style honed over years spent judging the spin on fly balls, Xandy shines as a fresh and memorable voice in American fiction.
Opening Lines: I remember it clearly. Is that too obvious to mention—a useless way to begin? Were you in doubt that a man who makes his living with his arms and legs, his ankles and hands and rotator cuffs, would recall the moment that one of those—a cruciate ligament, they told me later, the doctor said point guards have problems with them—made a loud noise and quit working, in front of 22,471 men, women and children? See, I even remember the crowd size. They’d just announced it, answer B on the JumboTron quiz.
Blurbworthiness: “It’s an entertaining display of our once and future national pastime’s allure—with all its minutiae and arcana—for the contemplative mind.” (The Daily Beast)
by Percival Everett
(Graywolf Press)
Percival Everett. Short Stories. Coming Soon. ’Nuff said.
Jacket Copy: Percival Everett’s long-awaited new collection of stories, his first since 2004’s Damned If I Do, finds him traversing the West with characteristic restlessness. A deaf Native American girl wanders off into the desert and is found untouched in a den of rattlesnakes. A young boy copes with the death of his sister by angling for an unnaturally large trout in the creek where she drowned. An old woman rides her horse into a mountain snowstorm and sees a long-dead beloved dog. For the plainspoken men and women of these stories--fathers and daughters, sheriffs and veterinarians--small events trigger sudden shifts in which the ordinary becomes unfamiliar. A harmless comment about how to ride a horse changes the course of a relationship, a snakebite gives rise to hallucinations, and the hunt for a missing man reveals his uncanny resemblance to an actor. Half an Inch of Water tears through the fabric of the everyday to examine what lies beneath the surface of these lives. In the hands of master storyteller Everett, the act of questioning leads to vistas more strange and unsettling than could ever have been expected.
Opening Lines: A spring-fed creek ran through the ranch and so even in the harshest summer weeks there was a narrow lane of willows and green grass. Moose and elk browsed and left deep tracks in the muddy banks. Sam Innis had grown up there with his mother, his father having died in the war in Vietnam.
Blurbworthiness: “Everett is one of the most gifted and versatile of contemporary writers....His work takes hold of us of won’t let go.” (Alan Cheuse, NPR)
By Elmore Leonard
(William Morrow)
Elmore Leonard. New Stories. Coming Soon. ’Nuff said.
Jacket Copy: A collection of fifteen stories, eleven of which have never been previously published, from the early career of bestselling American master Elmore Leonard. Over his long and illustrious career, Leonard was recognized as one of the greatest crime writers of all time, the author of dozens of bestselling books—many adapted for the big screen—as well as a master of short fiction. A superb stylist whose crisp, tight prose crackled with trademark wit and sharp dialogue, Leonard remains the standard for crime fiction and a literary model for writers of every genre. Marked by his unmistakable grit and humor, the stories in Charlie Martz and Other Stories—produced early in his career, when he was making his name particularly with westerns—reveal a writer in transition, exploring new voices and locations, from the bars of small-town New Mexico and Michigan to a film set in Hollywood, a hotel in Southern Spain, even a military base in Kuala Lumpur. They also introduce us to classic Leonard characters, some who recur throughout the collection, such as aging lawman Charlie Martz and weary former matador Eladio Montoya. Devoted Leonard aficionados and fans new to his fiction will marvel at these early works that reveal an artist on the cusp of greatness.
Opening Lines: The joint on Beaubien was a semi-Black and Tan, more black than tan. Any lighter element in the place, disregarding a few beboppers, was sure to be overdressed, on the greasy side and usually carrying a gun.
Blurbworthiness: “Quirky, tough, humorous, and always surprising characters....There’s a reason Leonard has been labeled one of the best crime writers in America and why his clipped and witty dialog and economical writing style have found their way to television and film. He’s just a great storyteller.” (Library Journal)
by Jean Larteguy
(Penguin Classics)
On the top floor of my house in Butte, Montana, there are two bookcases devoted exclusively to my collection of black-spined Penguin Classics paperbacks. The books, by authors ranging from Andy Adams (The Log of a Cowboy) to Zola (Germinal), overspill the shelves. I always feel a tingling zip of electricity up my spine when I look at that dark, beautiful collection. The newest member is a classic piece of war literature which, I’ll admit, I'd never heard of until the good people at Penguin brought it my attention. It’s now at the top of my must-read list.
Jacket Copy: When The Centurions was first published in 1960, readers were riveted by the thrilling account of soldiers fighting for survival in hostile environments. They were equally transfixed by the chilling moral question the novel posed: how to fight when the “age of heroics is over.” As relevant today as it was half a century ago, The Centurions is a gripping military adventure, an extended symposium on waging war in a new global order, and an essential investigation of the ethics of counterinsurgency. Featuring a foreword by renowned military expert Robert D. Kaplan, this important wartime novel will again spark debate about controversial tactics in hot spots around the world.
Opening Lines: Tied up to one another, the prisoners looked like a column of caterpillars on the march.
Blurbworthiness: “It might be defined as a French The Naked and the Dead written with finesse and sensitivity and taste that the Mailer book lacked, but revealing in many ways a similar pattern as the soldier attempts to fit back into civilian life.” (Kirkus)
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Bookstore of the Month: Iconoclast Books
Iconoclast Books
671 Sun Valley Road
Ketchum, ID 83340
(202) 726-1564
Iconoclast Books on Facebook
Iconoclast Books on Twitter
For your health's sake...for complete relaxation and enjoyment...visit Sun Valley this winter. It's a delightful, easy-to-take tonic...skiing, skating, warm-water, outdoor swimming and joyous evening hours. Nature's big, white blanket soon will be spread. Plan now to see this land of sun and fun in Idaho's Sawtooth Mountains. A robust, western welcome awaits you!
--from an ad for Sun Valley ski resort in the Milwaukee Sentinel, Dec. 7, 1952
Drive up Idaho Highway 75, past the quaint towns of Bellevue and Hailey, along the Big Wood River (one of Ernest Hemingway's beloved trout streams), and into the shadows of Old Baldy and Dollar Mountain. There, just when you think the forests, mountains and streams couldn't possibly be equalled in beauty, you'll discover they were just the prelude to Ketchum, Idaho, a jewel of a town set in the Sun Valley crown.
Ketchum is home to about 2,700 residents. Make that 3,700 because Sarah Hedrick has the dynamic energy of 1,000 souls. She is at the heart of Iconoclast Books--the Hope Diamond of Ketchum's crown jewels--and she is one of the most dedicated and tireless booksellers I've ever met. On the June day I drove into Ketchum, it was raining in Sun Valley (Irony Alert!) and clouds had pulled a dark blanket over the town, but all the lights were on in the bookstore and Iconoclast fairly glowed on its corner of Ketchum's main street. Somewhere inside the shop, I'm sure that electricity was caused by Sarah swirling and humming through the bookshelves, helping a customer find the best biography of Hemingway, recommending the latest staff pick (like Alexander Maksik's A Marker to Measure Drift), or frothing milk for a latte at the store's small cafe. Though she has a great and equally-dedicated staff of booksellers (some of whom "came for the skiing and stayed for the books"), there's no getting around the fact that Sarah Hedrick is Iconoclast Books.
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| Sarah Hedrick and her daughter Penelope welcome Papa Hemingway to the store |
In preparing for this Bookstore of the Month post, I asked Sarah to tell me a little bit about what the store has to offer. Here's what she wrote in an email: "We encourage intellectual curiosity. We pride ourselves on being unique and going beyond the bestseller selection. New, used and rare titles, Hemingway and Idaho history, book clubs, magazines, gifts, stationery, candles, educational games and toys, and more. Our cafe features locally roasted coffee, local organic dairy, homemade chai, organic teas, smoothies, fresh-baked goodies, bagels, homemade soup, paninis and salads. We specialize in unique cards, gifts, candles and host the area's largest children's section--from baby gifts and board books to a phenomenal Young Adult selection, with everything in between. We host author events, Poetry Slams, music events, Open Mic Nights, book club discussions and educational events. We are also very fortunate to be a part of so many great partnerships with arts and non-profit organizations in the community, like the Sun Valley Writers’ Conference, The Sun Valley Center for the Arts/Company of Fools, and The Community Library."
Iconoclast Books, now occupying 4,800 square feet, began in the trunk of a car in the University District in Seattle. Here's a bit of the store's history, taken from its website: "Iconoclast Books was founded in 1993, to very little fanfare. After many years of working in restaurants and bike shops in Ketchum, Gary Hunt, a practicing ski bum, set out to find his niche in life. He traveled. He worked in more restaurants and bike shops. He grew weary of that and more importantly, he felt vaguely unfulfilled. He had a friend, Royce Wilson, who managed a used bookstore in the University district of Seattle and they would often talk late into the evening over red wine or scotch while Royce outlined the basics of the used book business to Gary. This led to a period of a few months in which Gary went around to garage sales and thrift stores buying books and selling them, or attempting to sell them, to used bookstores throughout the city. This is what is known as book scouting, and Gary discovered that he had a certain knack for it....It wasn't long before a tidy little stack of boxes of books had been built up and they no longer fit into the trunk of the car. And so Iconoclast Books was born. At first it was just on weekends in the street market on Capitol Hill, with weekdays devoted to scouring the yard sales for choice inventory. By the end of the summer there were enough boxes of books built up to open our first store, in Greenlake, a suburb of Seattle."
Eventually, Gary grew restless and in 1994 he decided to head back to Sun Valley (remember, he was a "practicing ski bum"). He landed in a basement studio of about 800 square feet off 4th Street where he could sell used and out-of-print books. Somewhere along the line, he met Sarah (then a bookseller at, um, The Book Cellar). They fell in love, got married and joined forces at the revitalized Iconoclast. The business grew and moved from one location to another, adding new books, magazines, and gifts. Iconoclast Books spent five years in the historic Griffith building on Main Street in Ketchum before moving into its present location on Sun Valley Road at the end of 2007. Sadly, Gary was killed in a car accident less than a year later. Even from the dark valley of her grief, Sarah has carried on Gary's drive and vision for the store.
I'm going to turn the rest of this section of the blog post over to Sarah because, frankly, I couldn't have described the store or the current state of bookselling any better than she did in an email to me yesterday....
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Our philosophy is along the lines of this: anyone can sell New York Times bestsellers; we want to introduce you to something about which you haven’t already heard. We want to be relentlessly current and honor the classics. We want to help you find you that rare book you remember from your childhood. We want your experience in a beautiful space--with a curated selection of books, beautiful music playing (often live on our “Dead Man’s Piano”), the smell of house-made chai being steamed, and a wise and well-read staff--to be so wonderful that you wouldn’t even consider an Amazon experience.
I think bookstore customers in general are the best out there. Think about it: they’re intellectually curious, they’re usually not in a hurry, they are CHOOSING to be in a real store and not at their computer or in a fluorescently-lit box store (we like to say it’s the difference between a fine dining experience and fast food) and they’re buying something that is going to enlighten them, make them laugh, weep or think. This is an entirely different experience than buying most other retail items.
There's no way to choose the most rewarding thing about being a bookseller, but maybe one part of it can be found in this email from an employee the night before he left the country for a trip abroad:
Dear Sarah,Or maybe it's in this moment when, driving up to my store one day this summer, I saw a pre-teen girl having her photograph taken in front of the store’s sign like she was being photographed with Justin Bieber...I asked about it and she nearly screamed/wept: “Because I’ve been able to visit bookstores all over the world, and THIS IS MY FAVORITE. My friends will be so jealous when they see this.”
I really want to thank you. Working at Iconoclast has been one of the best things that's happened to me. I don't think many people can say they love going to work, and I feel lucky that I can. I feel so much love from you and the people around me everyday. There's nothing more important than that. Working at Iconoclast I've grown as a person. I've become a reader, and have a deep appreciation for books that I couldn't have gotten elsewhere, and will have for the rest of my life. You've also given me the gift of travel. Letting me leave for 7 months and having a job I love waiting when I come home is invaluable. It's allowed me to live the life I want to live. There's no amount of quotes, novels, or libraries to express how grateful I am. You've changed my life.
So really, truly, thank you Sarah, you're a great boss, and an even better friend.
I now have a toddler customer who comes in once a week with his father, hollers a hello to “Uncle Sarah” and makes a beeline to my (now almost 18 year old) son’s wooden train set in the children’s section while telling his father which books to grab to read to him. His father has been a customer since his teens, buying Bukowski. From Bukowski to Board Books...
I also love watching someone’s face light up when you finally nail the book they didn’t know they were looking for until you describe it and place it in their hands. Or the kid who calls my home, late in the evening with a shaking voice, “Sarah, do you have the third book in the Divergent trilogy at home? Or at The Modern Mercantile? I am three blocks away....” (You can substitute that with Hunger Games, Twilight, Harry Potter, Series of Unfortunate Events, etc.) It happens more times than you'd think and it's been this way for decades. You gotta love small towns.
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| Alexander Maksik signing books at Iconoclast |
I can testify to Iconoclast's Author TLC. More than six months after Sarah first grabbed my hands and insisted I come to Sun Valley, my wife Jean and I drove our car off that beaten path and visited Ketchum for an all-too-brief stay. Sarah did indeed arrange for us to stay at a friend's condo (an elegant place which was far from funky) and made sure everything was set up for me at the Community Library's lecture room (which is a bland name for what turned out to be a gorgeous auditorium--all the more impressive given the small size of the town). The next day, Sarah even made us some of her Idaho-famous lattes (did I detect a hint of potato in the foam?).
While Jean and Sarah chatted about mutual vintage mercantile interests (Jean had just opened The Backyard Bungalow in here in Butte, Montana, and Sarah is the proud owner of the Modern Mercantile in Hailey), I wandered the store, browsing the books. I zeroed in on the Hemingway section--an entire wall of shelves dedicated to the author who lived in Sun Valley off and on for part of his life and chose this mountainous Garden of Eden as the place where he'd end it with an early-morning shotgun blast. While I didn't find exactly what I was looking for (a book specifically about Hem's Ketchum days), my eye was caught by another book on display near Iconoclast's front door: The Sun Valley Story by Van Gordon Sauter. Perfect.
For those of you with even a passing interest in the ski resort's history, I highly recommend this sumptuously-illustrated account of the valley's history--its rise from a sheepherding crossroads to a multi-million-dollar winter wonderland where stars like Gary Cooper, Marilyn Monroe, Clint Eastwood and Jamie Lee Curtis came to play. Sauter emphasizes Sun Valley's self-made entrepreneurship and resilience even during economic downturns. Bottom line, the region's successful legacy begins and ends with the mountains and rivers, the solid foundation of nature which will never change.
Except when it does.
Resiliency and nature collided in Sun Valley this past summer, two months after my visit. Six years after the devastating Castle Rock Fire roared over the mountains and down into the lowlands, flames once again threatened Ketchum, Hailey and the other small towns dotting the valley floor. The Beaver Creek Fire forced hundreds of evacuations this past August and brought everything to a standstill--at a time when Sun Valley normally depended on heavy tourism traffic.
Most of us (myself included) hear about these things and while we may pause to read the headline stories and feel a little pinch of sympathy inside, the truth of the matter is, we turn the page of the newspaper, go on eating our toast and eggs and rarely give the ashes of Sun Valley forests a second thought. Until, that is, someone takes us by the shoulders, gets all up in our face, and tells us that we should care. Such a thing happened to me when I read the following heartfelt note Sarah included in her bookstore newsletter a few weeks after the fires had been extinguished. I'll close with Sarah's words in hopes that, like me, you will be moved to help out the store with a donation or--as I did--by ordering a few books from Iconoclast instead of that Other Place which rhymes with Shamazon.
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I've been ruminating for weeks on thoughts and the proper way to put them into words about the impact of the Beaver Creek Fire on our community, to my store and to my family. I've been interviewed many times--locally and nationally--and have (this should come as no surprise) worn my heart on my sleeve and often, possibly, said too much. The focus of many of these conversations has been about devastation: The damage to our beautiful landscape and the impact of that on our economy, the repercussions that losing the busiest three weeks of our season has on a budget that absolutely depends on tourism, the trickle-down effect of what occurs when a store loses necessary income and can no longer support the causes it normally does; the struggles with paying employees, vendors, taxes, rent and utilities. Sometimes, I've imagined the loss of the store.
Tonight, I want to tell the good stories and I hope you'll bear with me. I've thought a lot about the last 6 years--the Castle Rock Fire from which we're still not recovered as evidenced by still paying off the disaster relief loan from the Small Business Administration, the death of my husband and true iconoclast behind the store, the loss of our locally-owned bank which carried our credit lines so that we could get through slack seasons, the recession that hit not long after Gary's death, the egregious efforts of Amazon to destroy brick-and-mortar stores of all kinds, and yes, I have a hard time with that little Kindle.
Despite all of these obstacles, I am awake at midnight feeling invigorated about Monday morning--mostly because I adore what I do and also because I have a lot of great ideas AND I have a few beautiful stories to tell. They may not save the store, but they have nourished my soul on sad days and reminded me why I do what I do, seven days a week.
In no particular order and because no monetary value can be attached to goodwill.
1. During the evacuation I received a Facebook message from a stranger in Twin Falls: "Sarah, I know we're only fb friends but I love your store and all that you do for your community and book lovers. I was in the mall today and heard that all hotels are booked in Boise and Twin. If you and your children need a place to stay, we have a guest room for you. We'd love to have you."
2. Numerous, and I mean numerous, offers similar to this from all over Idaho and beyond.
3. This week, an online order from the Stanley Library for 25 books, all of which could've been purchased at cost through a book distributor. Yesterday an online order came in, for one book, with this message: "I'm a bookseller in California and I just heard about the wildfires in your area. I so hope things start looking better soon. Solidarity!"
4. And a story that I hope goes viral, not for the benefit of Iconoclast Books, but because I hope people who are able will be inspired to support all local businesses--and for those of us who cannot, will remember it and do something similar in another way, down the road. Most of us know Carol and Len Harlig as they've been figures in and pillars of this community for decades; they're kind, generous and passionate about our valley, giving of themselves in more ways than this email will allow. I've known them for nearly 24 years and they never cease to amaze me. Read on...
This is what they've done and how Len explained it to me: "Carol and I sat down the other night and identified businesses that we're concerned about as well as the people we're grateful to in our valley, especially the fire fighters who saved our community. We would like to support and thank a few." The Harligs proceeded to spend a very generous amount of money at Iconoclast Books, citing us as a business they consider to be one of many that are integral to our community and they couldn't envision being without.
Clearly I wanted to give Carol and Len a public thank you without embarrassing them. In their graceful way, they stated that they don't want acclimation for this gesture, but in hopes that others would do something similar, I was free to share. In Len's words:
Our "plan" is to buy $1,000 worth of $100 gift certificates at local businesses for five months, thereby helping local businesses to survive until the snow flies, and by gifting the cards to emergency responders (firefighters first, law enforcement next, hospital workers third, and then another round for firefighters and law enforcement), as a way to thank the women and men who did so much for so many. (Apologies to Winston for the paraphrase).Need I say more about this incredible community and state we live in? Yes, I want my store to survive this latest tragedy, not just because I want a job I love and appreciate, but because it allows me to live and raise my children in a community full of so many creative, smart and caring people in hopes that they'll continue in that vein for the rest of their lives.
Our first thought was to do this below the radar as neither of us seeks publicity for our community efforts, but if getting the word out will encourage other residents to shop locally or to do something similar to our "plan" then we'd give up a little privacy for the higher cause. Maybe we can start a movement and help revitalize our local economy. "OCCUPY MAIN STREET!"
Iconoclast Books is the featured bookstore all this month at The Quivering Pen. By clicking on the links to books mentioned in this month's blog posts, you'll be taken to the store's website where you can purchase the book (or, better yet, several books). The Quivering Pen is dedicated to supporting independent bookstores.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Indies First: Bookseller for a Day
I've always wanted to own a bookstore. To be surrounded by books all day long and hearing the sweet jingle of a cash register drawer opening every time I convince a shopper to purchase a book I dearly love? Well, I can't think of a finer profession.
That dream remains elusive and out of reach, but a week from today, I have the chance to be a Bookseller for a Day. Wish fulfillment in its finest hour.
I'll be taking part in Indies First at two Montana bookstores: Fact and Fiction in Missoula (on November 30) and Country Bookshelf in Bozeman (on December 1). It's part of the Small Business Saturday movement, but I like to think of it as Book Nerdapalooza. Next weekend, hundreds of independent bookstores around the U.S. will be staffed by bibliomaniacs like me. We'll be hand-selling books, gift wrapping packages, working the cash register, and helping antsy, crossed-legged customers find the restrooms--all in all, celebrating the merchandise of words.
Here's a random, partial list of stores and authors:
Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe, Arizona: Ron Carlson, Diana Gabaldon, Adam Johnson, Aprilynne Pike, Tom Leveen and Lisa McMann
Granada Books in Santa Barbara, California: T. C. Boyle
R. J. Julia Booksellers in Madison, Connecticut: Wally Lamb, Natasha Friend, Carlos Eire, James Benn, Tom Greenwald, Nick Hahn, Anne Kubitsky, Michaela MacColl, Bob Shea, Suzanne Palmieri, Christine Pakkala, Bob Steele and Sandi Shelton
Books & Books in Coral Gables, Florida: Dave Barry
Little Shop of Stories in Decatur, Georgia: Joshilyn Jackson and Laurel Snyder
Rediscovered Books in Boise, Idaho: Anthony Doerr
Harvard Bookstore in Cambridge, Massachussetts: Clea Simon, E.J. Graff, Gwen Jensen, Henry Louis Gates, Jr, John Burt, Katherine Powers, Kelly Link, Kim Mclarin, Margot Livesey, Maria Tatar, Megan Marshall, Priscilla McMillan, Randall Kennedy, Steve Yarbrough, Susan Goodman, Sven Birkirts, Tui Sutherland, Ursala de Young and Walter Johnson
Longfellow Books in Portland, Maine: Lily King, Richard Russo, Monica Wood, Scott Nash, Lincoln Paine, Sara Corbett, Michael Paterniti and Christina Baker-Kline
Monkey See, Monkey Read in Northfield, Minnesota: Benjamin Percy
Flyleaf Books in Chapel Hill, North Carolina (Bookseller of the Month here at The Quivering Pen): Daniel Wallace, Rosecrans Baldwin and Alan Shapiro
Oblong Books & Music in Rhinebeck, New York: Jacky Davis, David Soman, Elizabeth Cunningham, Owen King and Kelly Braffett
Broadway Books in Portland, Oregon: Cheryl Strayed, Richard Melo, Joe Kurmaskie and Cari Luna
Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Center, Vermont: Alice Wolf Gilborn and Megan Mayhew Bergman
Auntie's Bookstore in Spokane, Washington: Jess Walter, Shawn Vestal, Kenn Nesbitt and M. Kari Barr
Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle, Washington: Sherman Alexie, Garth Stein, Maria Semple, Jennifer Shortridge, Samantha Vamos, Tom Nissley, Kathleen Flynn, Kathleen Fleniken, Ryan Boudinot and Jonathan Evison
The Second Story Books in Laramie, Wyoming: Alyson Hagy
For the rest of the participating bookstores, go to this page on the IndieBound website (note: even though I'm not listed in the Country Bookshelf lineup, I promise I'll be there on Sunday).
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| Sherman Alexie modeling the special Indies First tote bag |
It took me less than the blink of an eye to get on board with Alexie's enthusiastic recruiting efforts. I immediately hurried to my closet to grab my bookselling superhero costume (the one with the big "BS" emblazoned on the chest) and sent it out to be drycleaned.
So, whatever you're doing next Saturday, please set aside some time to stop and shop in your local bookstore. Let's make Indies First a huge success and turn Small Business Saturday into Big Bookstore Weekend.
I urge Quivering Pen readers in western Montana to come out and support their local indie bookstores (my friend Russell Rowland will be at Elk River Books in Livingston, too). I'll be at Fact and Fiction from 1-4 p.m. on Saturday, and at Country Bookshelf from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Sunday. I've got a very special list of book recommendations to give you, so I hope you're prepared to stagger out of the store with an armload of good reading.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Friday Freebie: The Wonder Bread Summer by Jessica Anya Blau and The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving by Jonathan Evison
Congratulations to Jonathan Butters, winner of last week's Friday Freebie: The Son by Phillip Meyer.
This week's book giveaway is another terrific two-fer: one lucky reader will win a copy of both The Wonder Bread Summer (paperback) by Jessica Anya Blau and The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving (hardcover) by Jonathan Evison.
After the reading, I approached the old college friend. “Do you remember when you brought the bread bag of cocaine to my apartment?” I asked. “Of course,” he said. “Was it almost full?” I asked. “Because in my memory it was almost full.” “More like three-quarters full,” he said.That bread bag of drugs is the fulcrum point of her latest novel, The Wonder Bread Summer--a book which Laura van den Berg called "a lightning strike of a novel, sexy and dangerous and aglow with adventure." Here's the plot summary of Blau's new novel:
In The Wonder Bread Summer, loosely based on Alice in Wonderland, 20-year-old Allie Dodgson has adventures that rival those Alice had down the rabbit hole. Or those of Weeds’ Nancy Botwin. Allison is working at a dress shop to help pay for college. The dress shop turns out to be a front for drug dealers. And Allison ends up on the run—with a Wonder Bread bag full of cocaine. With a hit man after her, Allison wants the help of her parents. But there’s a problem: Her mom took off when Allison was eight; her dad moves so often Allison that doesn’t even have his phone number. Set in 1980s California, The Wonder Bread Summer is a wickedly funny and fresh caper that’s sure to please fans of Christopher Moore, Carl Hiaasen, and Marcy Dermansky.
Benjamin Benjamin has lost virtually everything—his wife, his family, his home, his livelihood. With few options, Ben enrolls in a night class called The Fundamentals of Caregiving, where he is instructed in the art of inserting catheters and avoiding liability, about professionalism, and on how to keep physical and emotional distance between client and provider. But when Ben is assigned to tyrannical nineteen-year-old Trevor, who is in the advanced stages of Duchenne muscular dystrophy, he soon discovers that the endless mnemonics and service plan checklists have done little to prepare him for the reality of caring for a fiercely stubborn, sexually frustrated adolescent with an ax to grind with the world at large. Though begun with mutual misgivings, the relationship between Trev and Ben evolves into a close camaraderie, and the traditional boundaries between patient and caregiver begin to blur as they embark on a road trip to visit Trev’s ailing father. A series of must-see roadside attractions divert them into an impulsive adventure interrupted by one birth, two arrests, a freakish dust storm, and a six-hundred-mile cat-and-mouse pursuit by a mysterious brown Buick Skylark.The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving has just been released in paperback, but the winner of this contest will receive a shiny-new hardback. And hey, if you don't win the contest, I highly recommend you cough up the 15 simoleons and go buy yourself a paperback copy. It's good stuff, ladies and gents. But don't just take my word for it--here's what The Boston Globe had to say: "With its extremely cinematic plot and collection of quirky scenes, the novel might remind you of Little Miss Sunshine meets Rain Man....The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving is even-keeled, big-hearted, and very funny, and full of hope."
If you'd like a chance at winning a copy of both The Wonder Bread Summer and The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving, all you have to do is email your name and mailing address to thequiveringpen@gmail.com
Put FRIDAY FREEBIE in the e-mail subject line. One entry per person, please. Despite its name, the Friday Freebie runs all week long and remains open to entries until midnight on June 20, at which time I'll draw the winning name. I'll announce the lucky reader on June 21. If you'd like to join the mailing list for the once-a-week newsletter, simply add the words "Sign me up for the newsletter" in the body of your email. Your email address and other personal information will never be sold or given to a third party (except in those instances where the publisher requires a mailing address for sending Friday Freebie winners copies of the book).
Want to double your odds of winning? Get an extra entry in the contest by posting a link to this webpage on your blog, your Facebook wall or by tweeting it on Twitter. Once you've done any of those things, send me an additional e-mail saying "I've shared" and I'll put your name in the hat twice.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Postcards from L.A. and Iraq
Having a great time. Wish you were here....
"Here" being the Los Angles Times Festival of Books. Despite the heat (it's 8 p.m. and 74 degrees right now) and the poor choice of footwear (boat shoes) while walking around the USC campus, I've enjoyed my two days here at the annual California fest. In the space of just a few hours, I bumped into lit-friends [name-dropping alert!] Maria Semple, Jonathan Evison, Paul Tremblay, Antoine Wilson, Adam Braver, and Pauls Toutonghi; I re-bonded with Book Pregnant gal pal Lydia Netzer; and I had the pleasure of sitting on a panel called "Fiction with a Sideways Glance" with Jess Walter, Fiona Maazel and Diana Wagman. Not to mention hearing a speech by the spry, graceful Margaret Atwood (she was on hand to receive the L.A. Times' Innovator's Award).
All in all, it's been the typical book-festival experience: an exhilarating, completely draining brain-blur of books, authors and craft talks. As usual, I'm coming home loaded down with novels I can't wait to read. In this case, my festival haul included two new Hollywood novels: Little Known Facts by Christine Sneed from Bloomsbury and American Dream Machine by Matthew Spektor from Tin House Books.
Soon after I arrived in the city yesterday, Diana Wagman and I met at the Sheraton and, after a gut-filling lunch at a local bar and grille, set out on a walking tour of downtown L.A.--places like the iconic City Hall (a fixture in all those film noirs I love), Grand Park with its neon-pink benches, and the Los Angeles Central Library where Diana and I craned our necks looking at the colorful murals lining the walls of the rotunda:
Once Diana dropped me off at the hotel and I took a couple of short power naps, it was time for the raison d'etre for my L.A. trip: the L.A. Times Book Awards. Last night, Lydia Netzer and I joined a few dozen other nervous nominees in the Broward Auditorium on the USC campus for the ceremony. Here we are, pre-ceremony:
Fobbit was nominated for the Art Seidenbaum Award for First Fiction and Lydia's Shine Shine Shine was up for the general Fiction prize. Neither of us won (Maggie Shipstead's Seating Arrangements took the Seidenbaum prize and Ben Fountain's Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk earned the Fiction award) but we sure had a blast seeing our faces and our books flashed across the big screen at the front of the room:
For a brief, giddy moment, we felt like royalty, like rock stars, liked stunned Academy Awardees. I know it's a tired cliché, but it really was an honor just to be nominated.
As I sat there in the auditorium amongst the glittery literati, I started thinking about how far I've come in the past decade, both personally and professionally. If you'd described last night's scene to me ten years ago, I would have scoffed, punched your shoulder and said, "No way--get outta here!" So much has happened to me in the last year alone--not just the singular joy of having my novel brought to life by my dream publisher (thank you, Grove/Atlantic!), and not just the fun of traveling around the country to book-fests like this, and not even the deeply touching personal contact I've had from readers....but all of it, the whole supercalifragilisticexpialidocious mind-crumpling heart-squeezing surreality of this debut-novel party I've been living since last September. I never take anything for granted. I treat every day like it's a fresh surprise. I don't know about Lydia or Maggie or the other nominees in my category, but I still feel like I'm in a Disney movie: birds are singing, mice are sewing my clothes, and it's still all so unbelievable. Maybe I'll feel differently by the time the next novel comes out, maybe I'll be jaded and this will all be old hat.
But I hope not. I hope I'll still be marveling at how the mice make my clothes.
Last night, after I got back to my hotel room, I decided to look in my journal to see what I was doing in Iraq in 2005. You know, just for shits-and-giggles and to gain a little perspective on this whole weekend in L.A. The contrast between the two days, separated by eight years, was striking. Here's what I wrote on that long-ago April 19 from Baghdad when I was serving with the 3rd Infantry Division as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom:
Vehicle-Borne Improvised Explosive Devices are becoming as regular as breakfast, lunch and dinner. The Significant Activity Reports pour in—“1-184 reports VBIED on Route Irish 1035hrs,” “Patrol in vicinity of grid MB45003593 struck IED 1309hrs. No casualties. Minor damage limited to blown tire, shattered windshield,” and so forth with nauseating frequency. The metronome of violence is ticking faster and faster as the insurgents (aka terrorists) grow more and more desperate…or more and more organized, as the case may be. Yesterday, the entire crew of a Bradley was engulfed in flame—they all lived, but barely; two days ago, a female MP was riding in a humvee when an IED burst on the side of the road; at first, they thought she and her driver just had minor cuts from the shrapnel, but when she passed out, they realized a small jagged piece of metal had severed her femoral artery on the back of her leg; she died before they could reach the hospital.
For the most part, however, it’s mostly Iraqi civilians dying out there on the roads. The good people of the country who still have purple-ink thumbs from voting on January 30—they’re the ones falling victim to the remote-control-detonator hands of the terrorists, some of whom migrate to Iraq from other countries (like Syria). As the new Iraqi government struggles to get on its feet, there is a power vacuum in the country. The US is reluctant to get involved, for fear of the world accusing us of interfering in another country’s politics. So, we hang back in the shadows at the sessions of the Transitional National Assembly meetings. While the Iraqi politicians and religious leaders bicker about how control should be divided between the Sunnis and Shiites, the terrorists take advantage of the nothing-government and regroup for more attacks.
Walk around Camp Liberty for an hour and you're guaranteed to hear muffled thuds coming from beyond the borders of the camp, followed a minute later by the rising plume of death-smoke. Tonight, as I was walking out of the chow hall after dinner, another IED went off. The sad thing is, very few of the people walking across the gravel path ahead of me flinched. We all looked to the horizon for the smoke, but only one or two of us twitched our shoulders up toward our ears and said “Whoa!” We’ve become dangerously complacent about the distant thunder of bombs, the remote death of strangers bleeding out on Baghdad streets. Most of the time I think, “Hmm, I wonder if that’s a controlled detonation by our engineers…” I make a mental note to check the Sig Acts when I get back to the office, but then I go back to sipping my milkshake as I walk across the safe haven of Camp Liberty.
More and more, though, I’m hearing this isn’t the secure military fortress we’ve grown to think it is. The Commanding General has said in more than one briefing he thinks the “bad guys are among us right now on an everyday basis.” In other words, the attack doesn’t need to come from beyond the concertina-wire borders of camp—all it takes is one determined, smart terrorist to infiltrate one of the cleaning crews or other day workers—hell, maybe one of the merchants selling those cute carved camels down at the bazaar—to plot an attack. It could be a bomb, or it could just be a guy with an AK-47 picking off soldiers one by one as they walk around camp sipping their milkshakes.
Then there’s the sporadically-lucky terrorists outside camp who launch mortar rounds with blind aim and a prayer to Allah. The other week, a mortar whistled through the sky and landed on Camp Taji. When it impacted against the ground, it exploded in a shower of hot, sharp metal. A female soldier walking in the area took a piece of shrapnel and ended up with a fatal “sucking chest wound.”
Believe me, I think about these things as I walk around drinking my milkshake, but what can I do? If it’s gonna get me, it’s gonna get me. Apart from staying alert and walking fast (which I do), I just have to go on living as close to a normal life as I can, hoping for the best.
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