January 8th, 2013
Cohabitational Reading Project 2: The Information, by Martin Amis
Longtime readers will recall that after we moved in together, my now-husband and I thought it might be charming to read the same book at the same time–dinner table and long drive conversation fodder. We also thought it would be cool to revisit books we had read separately in our unformed youth, the reassess their merits in the cold hard light of maturity (ha!)
The first read was A Prayer for Owen Meaney last summer. This winter’s read is The Information by Martin Amis.
Some background: I first read the book as an 18-year-old naif on my first (and so far only) trip to Europe, pretty shortly after it came out. Like anything cool I read in those days, a member of my family had hand-picked it for me–in this case, my younger brother, though my mom ended up reading it too so we could all discuss. Making the original read “cohabitational,” too, though I was technically on another continent for a chunk of it.
Reading the first few chapters, I am stunned at how much I liked the both in my naif-hood–how did I even know what was going on? This is an extremely cynical, caustic book, and if you think I’m saccharine now, you should’ve seen me on that art-student trip I’d waitressed so many hours for, off to see instructive European art and not drink any alcohol or talk to strangers.
*The Information*’s protagonist is Richard Tull, a novelist with 2 published novels behind him and 3.5 unpublished. He also works at a vanity press 1 day a week, and is an indifferent husband to Gina and father to small twin boys Marius and Marco. He’s also a terrible person, constantly drunk, taking any drug he can find, financially dependent on his wife, adultrous, and mean. His “oldest and stupidest friend,” Gwynn has in the past few years decided he wants to be a novelist too, and been monstrously successful at it.
Richard’s failure as a writer coupled with Gwynn’s success coupled with Richard’s general loathesomeness means that he is undone by Gwynn’s success. He actually strikes one of his little boys upon finding out that Gwynn’s second novel is on the bestseller list. He sets out, amid the ruins of his own career and his marginally less ruined life, to “fuck Gwynn up.”
I’m not accurately portraying how *funny* this all is–Richard’s loserishness and self-pity, Gwynn’s self-aggrandizement, the always looming spectre of London weirdness that pervades all of Amis’s writing–so much fun to read.
Of course, when I was 18, it barely even registered that these men were writers. To me, they were just old people doing stupid stuff. I wrote all the time, too, and even published a few things in high school, but I didn’t think of myself as a writer or having anything in common with these deluded gents.
Now, of course, I realize I’m only a few years younger than Gwynn and Richard, who both turn 40 in the first few chapters. I know all about little magazines, slush piles, vanity presses, agents, advances, PLR, and all the other writerly in-jokes Amis makes. I wonder what I was laughing at before, because despite the dreadful earnestness of me in my youth, I did realize the information was supposed to be funny.
Probably it’s the narration–Amis makes very VERY good on Thoreau’s comment that it is always the first person that is speaking. The narrator wanders the line between writing the book and living in it, and at this point in the narrative we aren’t sure how real the characters are to each other. As a youth, I was obsessed with narrative devices (no, I didn’t date a lot, actually) and this was and is one of my favourites.
But I’m not even 100 pages in and a *lot* more happens, I know. In fact, Mark’s already written a kickoff post and an update, and is out in the living room reading right now.
Have you read *The Information*? Do you read along with your co-locataires? Feel free to share experiences in the comments!
December 31st, 2012
Now: 2012
In 2012, I read 68 books and reviewed a number, though without fully finishing my To Be Read Challenge (embarrassing, but I will eventually–stay tuned). I completed my lone resolution in that I cooked every recipe in the Milk Calendar, which is a project I’d recommend and will repeat in 2013.
Obviously, the biggest thing in 2012 is that I planned and thoroughly enjoyed a most wonderful wedding to a most wonderful guy, and embarked upon a marriage to same (I’ve been trying to structure this sentence better but it’s just not working out–obviously, who else would I be married to than the guy I married??) Everything else kind of pales in comparison–and honestly this was a pretty great year in many ways. But once you’ve seen everyone you love all together in one room, beaming at you and eating cake…there’s really no follow-up.
Nevertheless, some other memorable, in no discernible order:
–I saw my short story How to Keep Your Day Job become a short film by the same name. It was an absolutely magical experience to see Lea Marin, Sean Frewer, Georgina Reilly and literally dozens of others reinterpret and reimagine my story until it was something totally new, and amazing.
–I survived a tax nightmare that took up all of my free time last spring and judging from the fact that no one has come for me yet, I guess I filled out all the forms correctly. Touch wood.
–I survived a project management course that took up all my free time last fall, though I’m still waiting on my final grade. I made a couple nice friends and, surprisingly, a couple enemies (well, I consider them enemies), but managed to do a lot of work that did not come naturally to me while under time pressure and duress and I think I did ok. Touch wood.
–I spent at least one night in 13 cities: Toronto, Niagara Falls, Halifax, Wolfville, Fredericton, Orilla, Hamilton, Liberia (Costa Rica), Vancouver, Ottawa, Moncton, Charlottetown, and Dorval.
–I obtained my dream of a second cat and my husband and I managed, through patience, vigilance, and a lot of closed doors, to teach the first cat not to hate her. Now they adore each other and are sad (read: viciously angry) when separated. My dream is complete.
–I wrote slower than I have written in years, with more self-doubt and angst than anyone’s interested in hearing about, but did manage to publish a few stories once I finally started submitting again last summer. More, the new collection now stands at 10 stories. Not sure if all 10 will get to stay in the final version, and a number more exist only as figments in my mind, but progress–progress.
–I remained employed by my favourite industry–publishing–one increasingly challenged on all sides. I have a lot of faith in this crazy little thing called books, and I’m happy to try to make them–in new and old forms alike–as long as I have the chance.
–I got a new family! Not that there was anything wrong with the old bunch, but now there’s just more of them–the natural result of getting married. That’s where I was this past week (I bet you didn’t even notice that it’s been ages since I last blogged), bonding with the inlaws. Lovely folks, and *very* good cooks.
And that’s just the big stuff and easy targets. I can’t even itemize all the small kindnesses I’ve received, the friends didn’t do anything they haven’t always done and are so wonderful for that.
Let me leave you with two of my favourite impressions from the last week of 2012:
1) being terribly motion sick on my flight home and given a tiny bottle of water when I most needed it by a gallant Frenchman
2) my niece, shy and stubborn and not quite two, opening her arms to hug me without anyone telling her to.
December 18th, 2012
Social Media Helps Me Live in the World
“Live in your world!” is something one my high-school teachers–the music teacher, oddly enough–used to exhort us. What she meant was that to truly inhabit the world, you need to know and at least attempt to understand it. She would use this sentence when we seemed too grossly ignorant of current events–the events of our world.
At the time, I could nod sagely, because I was a pretty well-informed kid. Of course, no one actually lives in the world–we all live in our houses, and my parents’ house was (and is) one of information. While I lived there, I absorbed news because it played on the radio and television several times a day and there were always newspapers and magazines underfoot, sometimes literally. There were also books and books and books, and usually someone available to explain whatever I didn’t understand.
Then I moved out on my own, and I discovered a key way I am not like my parents–I feel no drive to be well-informed. If you tell me things, I’ll take them in and even take an interest, but left to my own devices I am comfortable in my happy bubble of friends and work and fictional characters. After I moved out, my parents would phone me and attempt to talk about current events, and find me weeks out of date–often these calls were actually my only source of news.
What have we learned here? That I’m lazy, inane, not that bright? I prefer to say passive–I’ll learn what someone cares to teach me. Which is what makes social media kind of great. On the internet, on my own, I’ll look up book reviews and personal blogs and recipes and the life stories of people I knew in high school. But I read the newsfeeds on Twitter and Facebook, at least sometimes. And I learn stuff I didn’t know I needed to know. I follow links to actual newspapers and I read the articles. It’s easy to ignore the world when you don’t know what you’re missing; it’s harder when you have to try to ignore it.
I went on Twitter last Friday to post some inane complaint, which is mainly what I post on Twitter. I started reading my newsfeed and found a dozen comments on gun control in the US. I scrolled backwards until I found a name–“Newtown”–and then I googled that and read the news articles. It was miserable reading, of course, but utterly necessary if you want to be a human being living in the world today in a human way. Really, how could a real person ever choose to ignore that kind of tragedy?
Social media brings the tough parts closer, within reach even for someone like me, who often chooses to opt out of the tough parts. It’s not a perfect system (ie., Farmville) but in no small way, social media does help me be a grownup, living in the world.
December 10th, 2012
The Legal Short Story
While I’ve been busy not posting on the blog, I’ve done any number of other things, mainly uninteresting and related to the course I finished taking last week (gag! death! disaster! doom!) The one cool thing was two Saturdays ago we hosted a party to celebrate a) having such nice friends and b) the making of How to Keep Your Day Job. We screened the film for said friends, some of whom had been so excited about it for so long it seemed no longer fair to keep it from them.
As far as I could tell, everyone loved the film–it was really satisfying to sit and watch everyone laugh, wince, and nod at the protagonist’s tribulations. At the end, I got many compliments, most of which were waived because I had nothing to do with the film other than the baseline story and a lot of enthusiasm. But it was still great to hear, and I’m sure the filmmakers, home with colds, felt the love even from afar.
One especially interesting compliment came from a partygoer I know less well, who surprised me by announcing that she loves short stories always, even when she’s not at a party hosted by one of their practitioners. I mentioned my pleasure and surprise at this, as it’s not the general attitude towards short fiction. She said perhaps it was because she’s a lawyer–she likes details only if they exist for a reason, and everything extraneous to be thrown out.
I thought this was such a great way of expressing the lure of the story–that leanness, efficiency. Some short-story proponents come dangerously close to anti-novelism with similar discussions, and that’s not my aim. Novels do something our friends in science fiction (hi, Scott!) call “world-building.” Novels create a whole life for their characters–clothes and rooms and jobs and friends (ok, a lot of characters in novels don’t have friends–separate post) and the ticking sound the car makes and love of romantic poetry. You are far more likely to know which way a character votes and whether s/he believes in God in a novel than in a short story. Which is awesome in the way that that’s awesome; and short stories are awesome in a different way.
I was just pleased to hear it described so well, is all I’m trying to say here.
December 8th, 2012
On holiday cards and friendship
There’s a dumb article today in the Globe (I refuse to play their linkbait games, so you’ll have to look it up or take my word for it) about how Christmas cards are the embodiment of old-fashioned community and intimacy, and too few people take the time to do that, and ecards aren’t the same. Halfway through the author mentions offhandedly that she herself sends no cards ever, but wishes she did and that everyone did and society is sadder now because decent loving classy women like herself no longer have time to send cards.
Having just mailed several dozen holiday cards this afternoon, I think I might be qualified to say that this is nonsense. I’ve been sending cards for years to folks who never send one back, without a care or a thought for it. Holiday cards are one way among many to show you care about someone (I’m not someone who calls out of the blue and says, “I was wondering how you are!” for example, but I love it when I get that call), and everyone is free to choose a different way or no way at all.
Here’s the killer quotation: “Ironically, taking care to do something is about taking time from other activities, the very thing we are unwilling to do.” Not only do I not get how that’s ironic, I think that’s pretty childish. Every grownup in the world chooses every day among a number of ways to spend time. You simply can’t have every nice thing that’s available–there isn’t time, money, or room in the house. I don’t think acting like a victim of one’s own life–I’m too busy to do anything I want!–is a mature ownership of one’s choices.
It’s dumb to say there was a golden age of caring and we’ll never get it back. That’s artificial nostalgia at its worst. It’s also dumb not to take responsibility for doing something or not doing it. We all have our priorities–that’s not a 2012 invention. I bet the author of the above article has watched a few tv shows, had a few inane conversations, hunted for a better parking spot, all since November 12. By my count, it takes 2-3 hours to write, address, and post Christmas cards–I bet she could’ve done it, she just chose not to. And if she valued those conversations, who am I to say she should not have had them? It’s just the complaining I don’t like.
Friends, if you want to send cards, skip one holiday cocktail night/Peanuts special/nap and send them. And if you don’t want to send them, that’s fine–enjoy your parties and naps and I’ll still probably send one to you.
November 21st, 2012
Rose-coloured Reviews *Mouthing the Words* by Camilla Gibb
Wowsers. I’ve never read a book like Camilla Gibb‘s first novel Mouthing the Words. It’s terrifying, horrifying, very funny, and brilliant. I really needed this, having read such a series of deeply flawed, baffling, or dull novels recently that I was starting to wonder if the problem was me–if I just didn’t *like* novels anymore.
So I’m really grateful to Gibb’s book for saving the novel for me. Strange, of course, that I hadn’t read *Mouthing* before now, since it came out in 1999 and is really well thought of, as are all Gibb’s books. I’ve also met the author a number of times and even collaborated with her on The Journey Prize Stories 21 and can report that she’s a lovely human. Sometimes it’s just this sort of constellation of glowing praise and lovely humanness that can intimidate me into not reading a book for 13 years.
I’d also heard that *Mouthing the Words* is a tale of child abuse not for the faint of heart, and I sometimes am fainthearted, so that was another dissuasion. And while it’s true that some of the abuse is very very distressing, the wonderful voice that carries the story made me want to keep reading. That is the voice of Thelma, the protagonist, the abused child and later mental patient, anorexic, law student, friend, girlfriend, mess, saviour, nutjob, and possibly genius.
She’s very very funny, confused and ironic and weird. The voice reminded me a lot of Esther Greenwood in The Bell Jar, the baffled crazy person persona not quite stifling a sharply sarcastic wit. The best bit in Bell Jar is when Esther wanders around with a noose around her neck, trailing rope like a cat’s tail, because she can’t find anywhere to fasten it in her smooth-ceilinged house. The best bit in *Mouthing the Words* is “I am eighteen and I am still note adopted. How many people have I asked? It’s starting to get embarrassing.” Tell me that doesn’t sound like Plath.
The novel is interesting because Thelma is sometimes self-aware and sometimes not, sometimes writing from the distant peaks of adulthood, and sometimes right in the thick of it with her young character. Sometimes it was not 100% photorealistic–like Thelma retains her imaginary friends into her 20s and it is difficult to tell whether she acknowledges them as symbolic or actually thinks they are speaking to her. I’m fine with that ambiguity, but I don’t know how to describe it really.
But certainly the book was realistic in many ways, particularly in the fact that there is no cosmic justice coming down at the end and smiting the evil-doers.I sometimes think that sexual abuse and other abuses of children is so popular in contemporary fiction because it’s so morally easy–who *doesn’t* think it’s terrible to have sex with little children? Who *wouldn’t* despise someone who did? It’s such a comfortably righteous position and in many novels that’s all you get–you know what evil is? Gold star! No thinking! Gibb’s novel goes beyond that by staying with the violated character for two decades and leaving the violator in the dirt–we never find out what happened to him, and no one seems to care. That’s his punishment. But Thelma lives on in the world and continues to punish herself and sometimes those around her, but she also has a life and it’s pretty interesting. There’s still some moral simplicity but we all need a little of that–Thelma’s much more like a human than a virtue embodied. She’s also damn funny.
Mouthing the Words is the 10th/October (I’m behind) book in my To Be Read 2012 Challenge (and probably my favourite so far). More to come.
Power Couple
People who describe Mark and I as a “power couple” are, almost without exception, kidding and/or drunk. But this week we get close because Mark is poetry champion of The Puritan Magazine’s Thomas Morton Prize and will thus be reading at their Black Thursday issue/anthology launch/celebration on Thursday night right here in Toronto. And then, a scant two days later, I’m reading in Ottawa at the Carlingwood library on Saturday afternoon. I highly encourage you to come out to whichever event is geographically possible for you–I think both will be stellar.
Naturally, we will each be in the audience for the other, cheering and holding coats. Because that’s what good power couples do.
November 19th, 2012
Meme Update
When I posted my Next Big Thing interview answers, I tagged a couple fine gentlemen to do the next round, and they have kindly complied. Please see Jeff’s responses and Andrew’s responses for more insight on books you might be reading a few years from now.
Other lovely folks playing this reindeer game include Julia and my very own Mark. Lots of good reading out there…and more to come!
November 14th, 2012
How to take the TTC like a sane person
Every year, I say I’m going to write this post before the Santa Claus Parade, and every year I’m shocked that the parade is in the middle of November and I don’t get it done in time. No more!! This year the parade is on Sunday and I will be ready!
Why do I need to write “How to take the TTC like a sane person” before the Santa Claus Parade? Well, by my exceedingly unscientific count, that’s the day the most inexperienced TTC-riders flood the system and make things difficult for the rest of us. But in truth those folks are around all the time in smaller numbers, being nervous and lost and awkward, so I thought I’d try to help.
FYI, I am *not* saying that all regular riders are dreamboats. There are some–I’d say a good 5%–who are nervous and lost and awkward, or downright mean and aggressive, ALL THE TIME. Those people suck, but their problem is not lack of information–they’re either legimately not sane, or are just jerks, but anyway, I cannot help them.
But you, the uninformed but basically decent and normal first-time rider–you, I can help!
Step 1–Make a plan
Yes, subway stations and bus/streetcar stops have maps and yes, many TTC employees are very well-informed about what’s where in the city, but blithely leaving the house with just an address in your hand is not the best plan. Once you are ON a surface route, the driver can often help you figure out where to get off, but probably most won’t be able to tell what route you should take to start.
Google Maps has a transit directions function that works quite well–just enter your start and end points, and then click on the little bus face. The TTC itself has a little trip planner that works fine, too, though I have less experience with it. You can also ask the folks at your destination what’s the best way to get there–desk staff often has a lot of experience in that regard.
Politeness reminder: Bus and streetcar drivers often switch from route to route, and maybe don’t have the one they’re currently assigned to memorized. Especially with the new automated stop announcements, they’re really not required to. Even if they do in fact know all the stops, they probably don’t know exactly where the address you are trying to get to falls along the route, or what address a certain store is at. Please don’t yell at people for not intuitively knowing exactly how to help you get to the place you want to go. Most will try to help, but it’s not their job.
Step 2. Prepare adequately. Brief your family.
I get that if you take transit a couple times a year, you can’t remake your life for it. But try to be reasonable–a bunch of toys/games/sippy cups, unsecured to anyone’s person, are fine in a car but are going to come to a bad end on the subway. Some strollers are really really big and hard to navigate in tight spaces. Folks are very tolerant of any contraption containing a baby, but for your own sanity maybe consider a smaller option if you have one. Explain to children that train doors close automatically and if kids don’t stay with the pack you could get separated. Then make a family plan about what to do if you do get separated and make sure everyone memorizes it.
The strongest push towards writing this post is the image I have in my head of parents shrieking at their progeny, “IT’S OUR STOP COME RIGHT NOW WE’REGOINGTOMISSOURSTOP!!!!!!!”
a) it’s not the end of the world if you miss your stop–on the subway you can just get on the line the opposite way at the next one, and bus/streetcar stops aren’t that far apart.
b) it helps to know what stop you’re going to and how many are in between here and there. My eavesdropping experience leads me to believe that children love counting stops and seeing how close they are to their destination–why not make it a family game? On the new trains on the Yonge/University/Spadina line, the spot you’re at on the map even *lights up*–how fun is that?
Politeness note: Just like we’re all responsible for getting off at the right exit on the highway without causing an accident, we’re all responsible for getting off at the right bus/streetcar/subway stop without shoving anyone. People *will* make way for you if you get up right after the stop before yours and begin courteously making your way to the door. I think some novice riders look up from their book/ipad/conversation right before their stop, see a mass of humanity and panic–“AH,no one will move to let me off”–so they start aggressively shoving. Please don’t do that–anyone who takes transit regularly will move aside if you start in their direction–and if they don’t see you, “Excuse me” works wonders. Some folks get the idea that the spot in front of the door is all theirs and won’t budge–them, you can shove.
Politeness note: Don’t stand in front of the door because you “don’t want to miss my stop” unless your stop is actually next. Otherwise, what about the people whose stop *is* actually next? They will have to shove you, that’s what.
3. Step 3: Think reasonably about safety
I do not want to hear anything more about people refusing to go to public places in downtown Toronto in the middle of the day because they’re “scared of muggers.” I’m sure muggings happen in the city, but they’re pretty rare–much more sensible to take precautions against being hit by a car. There *are* neighbourhoods where there is a greater chance of bad things happening, but they’re not on the Santa Claus Parade route. If you are going to be out late, off the beaten track, and/or travelling alone, it’s worth finding out from someone who lives in the area what spots to avoid–please don’t take the advice of folks who haven’t been downtown since the 90s, or only even 9-5 Monday-Friday.
It is very unlikely that anything criminal will happen on populated TTC vehicle (even I think twice about getting on a subway car with just one dude in it) but you still have to act like a sane person. Don’t leave your purse or coat on a seat while you stand up to go look at the map, don’t let your children run beyond your ability to monitor them, don’t talk loudly about how much cash you have on you. Seriously, I know this is a stupid paragraph but I have seen all of these things.
***
Whoo, over 1100 words. This is kinda a rant, I guess, but I don’t exactly mean it as one. Yes, I get stressed seeing people misbehave in transit and then blame the system, but I also love Toronto and it’s various trasnits, and I want more people to enjoy. I was scared of the TTC when I started riding it, too, but 10 years later, I wouldn’t get half as many places, read as many books, or be as often on time if it weren’t for the TTC. Share the love, ride the rocket.
November 13th, 2012
The Next Big Thing–10 Question Interview
This is a fun internet meme that’s going around where writers talk about what they’re currently writing. Shari Lapena wrote an interesting one and tagged me in the process. So follow the link to read hers, then look below to read mine.
What is your working title of your book?
So Much Love
Where did the idea come from for the book?
I don’t know. It’s one of those sticky ideas that I’ve had for a decade and never written successfully, despite many attempts. Over the years the events and characters have become pretty solid in my mind. I don’t know really where they came from–it feels like asking, “When did you first find out about your parents?” I don’t know what makes me think this time it will work, but I hope I’m right! If not, I guess I can walk around with all these people in my head for another few years.
What genre does your book fall under?
Literary fiction, I guess, for want of being anything else.
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Uhhh…really? I feel like most actors are way more attractive than the folks I’m writing about–not that they’re ugly, just…normal? I guess this is why I’m not a casting director. Ok, an honest attempt–man, there’s really too many characters in this book.
[20 minutes of earnest googling later]
Guys, this is giving me hives! I feel like a skeeze looking at someone’s photo with my head cocked and thinking, “Well, if she was 10 years younger…” I actually googled “First Nations actors” and then just decided to junk the whole thing. Utter fail. Sorry.
What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Um…it’s the story of a guy obsessed with women who have been the objects of violence…and also the story of those women. That’s not a very good description, actually. Sometimes I just think it’s a set of stories, each about a different kind of love. Those two sentences sound like two entirely different books. I’ll keep working on it.
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? My agent is the lovely Samantha Haywood at Transatlantic Literary Agency.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
What makes you think I’ve done that? I’ve been working on this version of the book on and off for a year and a half and I’m *maybe* 2/3 done the first draft. Of course, it’s stories, so the individual pieces are pretty polished (I hope) but the overall structure of the book is still in process.
What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
I thought the structure of the book was fairly unique until I read A Visit from the Goon Squad and The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao, both of which won the Pulitzer, National Book Award, etc., which weren’t things I was necessarily planning on So Much Love doing. So then I was sad. I’m all right now, but I going to avoid Olive Kitteridge, which everyone says is another book in this category that would make me feel bad about myself (they don’t say the last part, but I infer).
Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Again, it was a long time ago so I don’t 100% remember. There are a couple other books that map this territory that I felt didn’t do it right, so that was probably a factor. Len Klimstra is definitely my most Updike-ian character, so there was probably inspiration there. As well, this is a book about people reading, at least to me it is. The characters live in and around and through books in profound and silly ways, something that has really helped me to understand them. So books inspired this book, I guess–not just their contents but their physical book-ness, too.
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Two of the stories have just been published, in the most recent issues of PRISM international and The Rusty Toque.
Include the link of who tagged you and this explanation for the people you have tagged.
Be sure to line up your five people in advance.
So, honestly, I couldn’t find 5 people. I don’t want you to think that this is because I’m a loser with almost no friends (well…) but this meme has been around for a while, especially in Toronto where most of the people I know live, so it was hard to find folks who wanted to do it that hadn’t already. I’m glad to be exporting this to other cities, and if I only have two meme-buddies, at least they’re pleasingly exotic in their non-Toronto-ness:
Have at it, guys–looking forward to reading!
Buy the book: