The Barry-man

I was first introduced to Dave Barry back in high school when my mom produced a copy of Dave Barry is from Mars and Venus. I was hooked thereafter and soaked up every copy we had. Indeed, my family seemed to go on a Dave Barry spree, and before long we have a pretty substantial library.

There were many good memories from those books. Dave Barry's Complete Guide to Guys was a present to my dad, but once he saw the ribald humor he set it aside and, knowing my love for the author's work, said, "I'd like for you to not read this one." I replied, "Ah, I finished it a week ago." And on a more thoughtful note, Dave Barry Does Japan helped me along with my own trip to that country.

So a few weeks ago I picked up a brochure from the local theatre and turned to the guest speakers to discover Dave's picture grinning at me. Holy Moses! Word spread quickly across the campus and before long a handful of friends had gathered for a group date to the "lecture." I even picked up a couple guys en rout, who responded to my offer with, "Dave who?"

Heretics.

To my immense relief, Mr. Barry was an excellent speaker - you know how some folks are brilliant on paper, but just eh on stage? - and, despite the fellow providing running commentary in the back row, Dave had us rolling within seconds. Some of his stuff was straight from his books and though I don't call myself a complete Barry nerd, I was pleased to be able to pick them out, and yes, they were just as funny.

As for the obligatory book signing, I picked up a copy of Peter and the Starcatchers from the sales table. It should be a good read, judging by the first chapter, and received rave reviews from my female classmates last year. Dave was kind enough to sign it, "For Max, my idol."

But that's not the half of it! Head over to Dreaming of Mercy to follow her own take on the visit: she got to have dinner with the guy! There is a pre-dinner post up and I'm expecting to see something of a debriefing soon.

Correspondence

Superlative news, Brian Jacques has written me back! I stopped by the post box to check my junk mail and lo! within was a glowing envelope graced with a "Redwall" embossed postage label from Liverpool. I saved it for last - some might call it a short coming to not simply tear into that mail one actually wants, but I prefer to savor the moment - and carefully snipped it open in the fashion shown me by a sweet Thai girl back in high school.

Inside was a stationaried and watermarked letter dated "08 October" and addressed to me by name! Oh joy~! The note itself was very much in character with Jacques other works, wherein he thanked his fan for continued interest and assured me that he was still writing. The Sable Queen came out a few months ago, so perhaps I'll drop by the library and pick it up.

My thanks, Mr. Jacques, for taking the time to reply!

What’s up in publishing

Taking a look at Blue Rose Girls, a recent post caught my eye about an event held at the Boston Public Library. It was a festival celebrating children’s authors, featuring such greats at Neil Gaiman and Jerry Spinelli. The officious tea party was apparently a pretty big to-do, with kids dressed for Sunday and four student representatives giving awards to the honored authors. The thing that caught my eye was that it was a awards ceremony FOR KIDS. According to the blog entry, there were more kids at the library than there were adults, and judging by the speech delivered by Grace Lin, it was pretty uplifting and encouraging to literary children. She said the same sort of things that one hears all the time – wrote something, got rejected, wrote something else, and persevered – but I can imagine that, coming from a published author, this meant a lot to the young listeners.

In another post, Libby told some anecdotal stories about child-like logic, wherein children think very hard about something and come to an oftentimes incorrect or perhaps unrelated conclusion. She also mused about how wonderful such logic is to adults (or alternatively boring) and wondered why it is that such logic is not written about more often. I concur and admit that I love such stories. Kids say the craziest things and think nothing of it, and that I think is one of the glories of children’s writing, that stories can be told from a child’s perspective. I do believe that Peter Pan was a classic that very reason.

Cynsations offered an interview with new author Matthew J. Kirby who recently published The Clockwork Three. Being a sucker for good cover art, I stopped by thanks to the image of a clockwork golem in a style somewhat like a cross between the covers of the Spiderwick Chronicles and A Series of Unfortunate Events. Below the teaser outline was a short interview that concluded with a note on getting an agent. The first great leap of new authors, no? I’m still there, myself. But it was interesting to see that a new face was being asked about his style, what he did to nab his agent. In a nutshell, the two of you need to click, and it never hurts to network. Network, network, network.

And speaking of agents, Janet Reid (an agent) had a post up about interns. One can imagine what the stereotype must be for interns, and there must be some Twitter discussion going down about a tactless intern ragging on the manuscripts with which he/she gets saddled. I like to expect the best in people, but it does not take me much imagination to fear the Intern. How can one expect them to really give one’s precious work due credit? If interns are the filter through which manuscripts are passed, then how can we authors expect to ever get anything past the confused freshman and through to the agent? Fortunately, Agent Reid comes to the rescue of her own interns and interns generally: apparently their inexperience makes them great filters. After all, they don’t know when to put something down, they strive to work hard, and they come pre-equipped with enthusiasm enough to match Chihuahuas with ADHD. Good news for the rest of us, anyway.

Over at The Beacon Blog, Julie Ferguson has a few things to say about mugshots and bio material for authors. Basically, she encourages us to use common sense and do these things “right,” but the fact that she brought it up at all was telling. This digital world with which we interact demands that we “sell” ourselves effectively. Case-in-point: I love that little bathrobe kitty up in the corner of this page, but I highly suspect his days are numbered. Though I’m still in the “avoid stalkers” mindset when it comes to pasting my name, face, and address all over the net, some minor changes may have to take place once I’m published and the riotous fans and competing publishers wish to contact me. that said, I’ll probably be waiting a little while before coffee cat goes…

Lovely segue, this: Urban Muse has written on how Facebook can give a leg up to one’s freelance work. Cue the big “duh” moment; it’s a networking site. Sure we all knew that, but sometimes it takes a blog post to alert the unsubtle masses (and here I’m preaching to choir* of me) to the fact that what they are already doing will almost certainly help them along the elusive road to success. Facebook uses include general networking (duh), idea generation, and advertising – after all, what is the book of faces but one big advertisement, be it advertising you, your friends, or a dating service?

But wait, what’s this I see in the guest blog list? “How to Write a Memorable Bio”? Why yes, please! Kenji Crosland says here that one must answer the following: “What’s your mission,” “where did you come from,” “what have you done,” “what are you doing now,” and fill in with a personal quirk. Most excellent, Crosland-san, I’ll get right on it!

In other news, a Columbia professor has taken creative writing to a new level by generating a prodigious fib regarding the achievements and glory of said school. Freelance journalist Seth Abramson has more on the story.

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*Word of the day: I miss-spelled “choir” as “quire” on the first go and discovered that it is really a word: a set of 24-25 sheets of paper of the same size and quality. Neat, huh?

Liberty

I love history, because history makes for some good reading. And if there is one history book that I truly love, it is The Story of Liberty by Charles Carleton Coffin. We used this as a textbook when I was in high school.

First published in 1879, the book chronicles the struggles of mankind to resist tyranny and seek after personal freedom, most often the freedom to worship God as one sees fit. Beginning with the Magna Charta, and ending with the first American colonies, Coffin touches on a tremendous amount of Western history, from Martin Luther's 95 Theses to the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre, from the Inquisition to the Armada and Sir Francis Drake, from Papal corruption to the youth of Captain John Smith.

If you are looking for a comprehensive text of world history, you won't find it here, and be warned that Coffin is not terribly forgiving of the Catholic establishment of the era, sitting solidly in the Reformation camp. But don't let any of this stop you from picking the book up. Coffin's style is brilliant, charged with feeling and irony, without becoming preachy. He "tells it like it is," giving the straight facts, often in the present tense (i.e. something like, "Elizabeth is now the queen, but she has many enemies in Europe"). Though The Story of Liberty runs the serious risk of making you hopping mad at tyrants everywhere, there is always a silver lining; for every defeat and for every penalty laid upon those who choose to think for themselves, there is hope of a better future.

Letters for Redwall

If you have never heard of "Redwall," think Stewart Little meets The Hobbit. Written by British author Brian Jacques, it is a series of children's novels set in a fictional world populated solely by woodland creatures. The action usually takes place around Redwall Abbey and typically depicts a new Tolkien-esc horde of rats, weasels, and other vermin trying to take the abbey, which is heroically defended by the abbey mice and their patron saint, Martin the Warrior.

That's just a rough idea.

When I first picked up Redwall about ten years ago, I was enthralled by the range of story-telling in those pages. A veteran of The Hobbit and The Chronicles of Narnia, I expected a lot from fantasy, and Mr. Jacques delivered in splendid style. The prose are simple enough for children to read, but not under-written or dull, the descriptions are vibrant (Jacques LOVES to write about food especially), and the action was astonishingly vivid. Though not disturbingly graphic, battle scenes are not for the squeamish, as foxes, badgers, rats, voles, moles, hares, otters, mice, and squirrels crash together in scrums worthy of Brave Heart. But the blood-letting is not the complete story, as most of the tale revolves around the swashbuckling adventures of Redwall's inhabitants and their allies.

Mr. Jacques began publishing in the mid-eighties, and is still going strong, with another book (The Rogue Crew, I believe) slated for 2011. But the man was born in 1939. Seeing that prompted me to write a long-delayed thank-you to this outstanding author, because thanks to him, I began writing in the first place. Lewis and Tolkien introduced me to worlds beyond worlds, but it was Jacques who convinced me to put pen to paper.

So thank you, Mr. Jacques, for writing such outstanding adventure tales for children! Thank you for every sea-faring otter, for every unctuous stoat, for every towering badger lord. Thank you for fights and food and enduring friendships. My hat is off to you, sir.

If this has you interested, be sure to check out Mr. Jacques official site, complete with a store, book chronologies, and other information.

Lifestyle

In my latest perusings of Making a Literary Life, author Carolyn See advised her readers to “pretend” to be a writer. What in the wide, wide world of sports? I do not pretend, woman: I do!

Oh wait, moving on, she makes a very good point; that is, what your muse wants your muse should get, i.e. mountain vistas, cocktail parties and wild boat rides down the Nile. Naturally, this advice could render some adverse results. Infidelity, embezzlement, and boarding actions by Somali pirates come to mind. But in terms of tailoring your life and personal self-image to your writerly tastes, I am intrigued.

So let’s see, what does my writerly self look like? I like the idea of long sleeves, since they lend their wearer a sense of sophisticated sobriety – chill short sleeves are good, but sanguine by comparison, long sleeves are alert. I’ve got those and the glasses – rectangular in the style of my inner, hip professor.

Notebooks are a must, both lined for journaling and blank for sketching. Got those too. Now I just need an office, with wood-paneled floors, and wood baseboards, and wood trim in every corner – even trimming the ceiling – a small, but cozy fireplace; a big swivel chair that reclines so that I can prop one foot on the heavy oak desk when conducting an interview, pipe in hand – selected from my collection of handmade antiques – imposing wooden shelves on at least two walls – all my books will be leather bound, even the paperbacks, courtesy of a custom leatherworking shop – and one of those large, revolving globes that sits in a three-legged frame. To say nothing of the human skull resting near my right hand for those truly morose moments of imaginative fervor.

Lifestyle-wise, I’d like bodyguards in turtlenecks, blazers, and khaki slacks, though only for those black tie events that harbor lurking assassins. And speaking of death, unless I die in bed with “rooooooosebuuud” preceding my death rattle, I’d like to be standing at the epicenter of a cataclysmic meteoric impact.

Review of "Making A Literary Life," by Carolyn See