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From "Timekeeper" A few days ago, an old friend handed me a watch that no longer keeps time. It's plain looking, a timepiece from the 1970s, with a solid silver-plated body and a linked wristband. It has a blue face and white arms stopped at 12:04. The date is becoming Monday the 10th (of which month, and which year?). "It was Paul's," my friend said. "I don't know what to do with it. Maybe it will mean something to you." (read more) From "The Darker Side" As a writer, I am always being asked: 'Where do your ideas come from?' Sadly, there is no simple answer. But when those moments of inspiration strike, as if from nowhere, often when I am in the oddest of places, it is one of the greatest excitements of my day... (read more) From "No One is Safe" Shooting War is the story of an indie-media heartthrob named Jimmy Burns. The year is 2011, and the Brooklyn-based videoblogger gets his big break as he happens to be uploading a live rant in front a Starbucks when a suicide bomber blows the coffee joint to kingdom come... (read more)
From "Closing the Invisible Distance" From "The Darkest Evening of the Year: My Ever-Smiling Muse and Guardian Spirit" I knew a beautiful girl who endured two elbow surgeries and a spinal surgery without a single complaint or even one whimper, and who in fact smiled throughout her tribulations and was always in the highest of good spirits. She was quiet and extremely feminine, but she once stood up to a ferocious Rottweiler and sheerly by the power of her personality made it back down and submit to her... (read more) From "Mating in Captivity" There is nothing mysterious when two people in a couple cannot stand one another, and are not having sex. But what about the couples I meet in my practice every day? The ones who claim to love each other as much as ever, who describe relationships that are caring and loving, but they are not having sex — at least not with each other? (read more) From "Scholars in the Land of the Prophet" As I write these words in an office above midtown Manhattan, armed men are disembarking from black SUVs on the street down below. A helicopter beats overhead. It's just a Homeland Security exercise, another nail in the coffin of my long-dead sense of security. Farther downtown, there's a hole where 3,000 people died, murdered by fanatical practitioners of one of the world's three great religions... (read more) From "Confessions of a Language Fanatic" One of my earliest memories is from preschool. It was lunchtime, and they were serving orange drink. Not orange juice, but that super-saccharine milk-cartoned cafeteria beverage that passed for orange juice in the country's nutritionally deficient school districts. It was my favorite, and I was so eager to get to the beverage coolers and claim a carton of my own that my four-year-old legs started propelling me through the halls as fast as they could go... (read more) From "What Hath God Wrought" On the 24th of May, 1844, Professor Samuel F. B. Morse, seated amidst a hushed gathering of distinguished national leaders in the chambers of the United States Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., tapped out a message on a device of cogs and coiled wires: W H A T H A T H G O D W R O U G H T Forty miles away, in Baltimore, Morse's associate received the electric signals and telegraphed the message back... (read more) From "A Good Author" If you want to be a good author, respond to the request for an essay that you receive in order to promote your book. Sit and ponder at your desk, let the view of the field and the maples changing color distract you. Wonder whether the brown bear your son saw out that same window a few weeks ago will lumber by again, green froth by his jowls, keen on the apples that hang low from the branches... (read more) From "When Does History Begin?" Back when I was in grade school — I was born in 1961 — it was pretty clear that history began in 1492. We did cover the Native American peoples in our social studies classes, and since I grew up in Wisconsin this meant the Chippewa. But the Chippewa nation didn't exactly have a history. All they had was a collection of timeless customs, encapsulated in the frozen dioramas we went to see in the State Historical Society Museum in Madison... (read more) From "Desperado" I've always been a reader prone to brief but intense passions. For a while, like most girls, I had a thing for horse and dog books. When I was in high school I read every book I could lay my hands on about Abraham Lincoln, and then I became similarly obsessed with Teddy Roosevelt. I went through a swashbuckler phase... (read more) From "501 Minutes to Christ" I always try to speak about what's interesting to readers: homelessness, insanity, failed love, strange cities, odd jobs, illicit drugs, dreamers, long bus rides, the evasiveness of Beauty and God. I would also say coconut cream pie, but I pride myself on being honest. Once I knew a girl on welfare who was a master at French witchcraft. Her husband wanted to kill me. Wherever I go I am assigned a schizophrenic... (read more) From "Redefining Laziness" Bridge of Sighs, my new novel, was six years in the writing, and one of the things I'm certain to be asked while I'm out promoting it is, "What took you so long?" It's a question I've been asked often over the years and mostly I don't mind, because it suggests that my readers are anxious for a new Richard Russo novel. But trailing that compliment is an unstated implication — that the delay must be the result of laziness... (read more) From "Setting the Story" When writing a novel, choosing the setting is every bit as important as choosing the characters. If I know a city too well, I tend to get hung up on the details. My imagination is crowded out by an intimate understanding of traffic patterns and restaurant locations. If I know a city not at all, it means losing a lot of time doing research when I want to be writing... (read more) From "Getting My Grip" Here I am, 36 years and sixteen books from Diet for a Small Planet, yet the "ah-ha" moment that triggered that little volume still reverberates in my life: we humans are actively creating the scarcity we claim to fear! (read more) From "Making It Real: Why Fair Trade Matters" In the hyper-caffeinated world of coffee marketing, it is very difficult to tell the truth from a load of beans. Most marketing materials are prepared with the sole goal of increasing sales, rather than informing or educating consumers as to the real qualities of the product or of the lives of the people who provide it... (read more) From "The Necessary Tonnage of Hilarity and Awe" I have been to Powell's Books once, in the summer of 2003. That was the summer that I was hunting for books about misanthropes, or anyway books about misanthropy, or anyway books about the virtues of hating other people — "other people" being so easy to hate. For example... (read more) From "Deadly Secrets" Young children tell secrets, many of which turn out to be fabulously untrue. But what passes as child's play can turn deadly when adults agree to keep matters of life and death under wraps... (read more) From "I Had No Choice" In March 2003 when the U.S-led invasion of Iraq was launched I was in the midst of another full mountaineering season in Alaska. However, unlike earlier seasons, I was unable to devote myself wholeheartedly to my time in the mountains, which I consider my sanctuary... (read more) From "Handball" On our first date, when I arrived to pick up Beth, the woman I would eventually marry, the phone rang in her apartment, and when she answered, her face blanched. "Is he all right?" (read more) From "Reading Worrier" I have always worried about who can read, who can't, who doesn't, and the great, life-altering consequences hidden within those distinctions. I have spent most of my adult life as a scholar, teacher, and researcher in the cognitive neurosciences pursuing these questions. Now I have a new worry, no less insidious in its potential for affecting the lives of our young... (read more) From "What Does New England Matter?" My mother was born in Springfield, Massachusetts, as were her parents before her. My father was born some 100 miles east of there, in Milton, Massachusetts; his father and mother were born in Massachusetts and Connecticut, respectively. In other words, they were all New Englanders, which is to say, they were born and lived in one of the six states that constitute New England... (read more) From "Onward Christian Soldiers" In June of 1954, Colorado Springs beat out 582 other sites as the location for the new Air Force Academy. In recent decades, Colorado Springs has become this mecca of American evangelicalism. Today, over 100 evangelical groups are headquartered in the town of just 360,000... (read more) From "Writing Samedi the Deafness" The first part takes place when I was living in France, in Montpellier, on a street in the old quarter, which is entirely cobbled and bricked. I mention the cobbling only because it made me feel more comfortable the entire time I lived there. We spent the afternoons in cafes, and on long aimless walks; mornings we passed lying in bed in the loft that sat high up under the roof... (read more) From "A Sea of Social Ingenuity" A number of years ago I took part in a weekend program designed to help 40 low-income high school students reach college. It was one of those experiences that causes you to see the world with new eyes. The workshop was held on a campus in Colorado. My job was to serve as a "writing coach" and help five students write college admission essays that would reveal themselves as whole people, not just numbers on a transcript... (read more) From "All the (Good) News That's Fit to Print" This morning's headlines are as grim as ever. "In swath of devastation, Peru's death toll climbs," the Chronicle reports. "Liberties Advocates Fear Abuse of Satellite Images," the Times writes, and then, on the next page, "One Billion Dollars Later, New Orleans Is a City Still at Risk." The casualty reports from Iraq are especially long today, nine names of young men who died in the desert, not a single one of them old enough to be president... (read more) From "Freedom of Motion" I suffer from paranoid schizophrenia, a diagnosis it took me years to accept. I was hospitalized three times for lengthy periods, tied hand and foot to the cold metal of a hospital bed with a net strapped tight across my chest in the psychiatric equivalent of solitary confinement. I was given "very poor" and "grave" prognoses. In other words, I was expected to live in a board-and-care facility and work at a menial job when my symptoms allowed... (read more) From "Written by the Losers" Well, the rest of you can debate whether the last Congress has achieved anything significant. I already have my answer — it has allowed my new novel, If Today Be Sweet, to remain relevant... (read more) From "Bad Monkeys' Bad Girl " As in the case of my second novel, Sewer, Gas & Electric, it started with just a title. The third season of the Comedy Central series South Park featured an episode in which the South Park kids traveled to the Costa Rican rainforest. At one point Eric Cartman began hitting a monkey with a stick, screaming "Bad! Bad monkey!" The phrase stuck in my head... (read more) From "Lessons of a Hollywood Youth" Unlike every other male fiction writer in the country, I did not grow up in Brooklyn, and have never once played "stickball" with "the boys." Instead, I grew up in the glorious hedonism of the Hollywood Hills — exposed to guilt-free sex, exotic tropical drinks, and a cornucopia of recreational drugs at a very young age... (read more) From "Craving Stories" If someone had told me in high school that one day I'd write an historical novel, I would have rolled my eyes. The novel part would have been enticing, but historical? History was the Treaty of Ghent and the Seven Years War. History class was a forty-minute squirm from which I would emerge unscathed by insight. Down the hall in English Lit, though, there were stories to be had, and it was stories I craved... (read more) From "A Path to Language" At a cheap pine table in a dingy dining room, we drank cask wine and showed off. H. was smart-flighty. It was a bit late in the day to be that into Kate Bush, but she was pretty enough to pull it off. R. was a medical student who gave rather surprising shoulder rubs. It was one of our first nights in a Melbourne University student house and we were getting to know each other with enormous animation.... (read more) From "The Not So Big Life" When I began writing my latest book, The Not So Big Life: Making Room for What Really Matters, I knew I'd be pushing my existing fans — those who knew me through my Not So Big House series — to grapple with a further dimension of our consumer oriented society. And I knew I'd be surprising more than a few people by the shift from the focus on how we inhabit our houses to how we inhabit our lives... (read more) From "Codes, Keys, and Solomon's Treasure" In the spring of 1991 I packed up home in Yorkshire, England, and headed east to Israel with snorkel and wetsuit. The lure of exploring ancient shipwrecks lost beneath King Solomon's port city of Dor awaited me. I was inspired yet naïve. This was a foolish move professionally... (read more) From "Going Up Up Up" Several years ago I was zipping through emails and opened an invitation to attend the first west-coast meeting of a national group of women authors. I was honored to be invited and pleased to meet other writers in my area. A few days before the event, I was contacted by the local host who informed me that she was sorry, but since my first novel, The Bone Weaver, was self-published, I did not meet the membership requirements and was therefore uninvited... (read more) From "Where Food and Words Meet: A Literary Sub-School of Chinese Cuisine Survives against the Odds" As China continues its headlong rush to the future, certain areas of life seem to let people also reach back to the past. One such area is food. Cuisine culture has rebounded, with its many traditions. It's enough of a force in life today to have affected diplomacy. In April 2006, when China's President Hu Jintao made a state visit to the U.S., the White House invited him to lunch instead of to a state dinner. In the traditional language of China's cuisine this sent a specific message... (read more) |
From "Big-League Doom: Stephen King's Apocalypses" This is what happened. In the fall of 2006, the Avalon Books spring preview catalog came out. The page devoted to The Apocalypse Reader, an anthology I was editing, contained several errors, not least among them the inclusion of Stephen King's name on the list of contributors. Much to my chagrin and despite my placing several irate phone calls and emails this misinformation resurfaced again at publication time on the websites of internet booksellers. (Powell's, I'm happy to note, was the first to post the correct information after I sent it to them.)... (read more) From "Tea and the Writing of The Teahouse Fire" If I had known that Japanese tea ceremony was a living art, I would have studied it in college: I grew up with my mother's enthusiasm for Japan and majored in Performance Studies, a cross-cultural mix of anthropology, theater, and religion. And, then as now, I loved tea: my college best friend and I held a tea every Friday afternoon... (read more) From "One Size Does Not Fit All" I knew I would write this book, way back when I was 12 years old and my grandmother refused to let me visit her in Florida unless I lost ten pounds. Knew I would write it the second I set foot on the grounds of Camp Colang, the very first Weight Watchers camp I attended in 1984, when I was 16 and wanting to lose 20 pounds... (read more) From "The Way We Looked Then" There was a time in my girlhood when all I wanted was to be beautiful. Of course, there have always been girls who share this dream, but I believe in my case it was more pronounced. This may have had something to do with having an attractive mother, whose looks were often commented on when I was growing up... (read more) From "I Was Not a Nice Little Girl" I was not a nice little girl. My favorite summertime hobby was stunning ants and feeding them to spiders. My preferred indoor diversion was a game called Mean Aunt Rosie, in which I pretended to be a witchy caregiver and my cousins tried to escape me... (read more) From "The Grand Guignol 'Hood" I'm walking the drab, cavernous corridors of the Los Angeles County Coroner's Office. Witchy purple light flickers from those Flintrol Insect Electrocutors. I put on booties, plastic gloves, a plastic apron, a filtered 3M mask that is supposed to protect against airborne pathogens... (read more) From "The Scoop on Woodward and Bernstein" This year marks the thirtieth anniversary of the movie All the President's Men, starring Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman as investigative reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, respectively. The movie made Woodward and Bernstein forever famous and has become a classic... (read more) From "Judging a Book by Its Cover" There are many books that I would not be caught dead reading in public. Taliban Are People, Too, or Seven Good Reasons Why You Should Change Your Underwear Daily are titles that I would likely read at home with the curtains drawn (after ordering them through Powell's online store under an assumed name)... (read more) From "Have You Ever Boinked a Porn Star?: And Other Burning Questions about Fast Forward: Confessions of a Porn Screenwriter" When I went on a nationwide bookstore tour last May (to promote my memoir, Fast Forward: Confessions of a Porn Screenwriter), it seemed that everybody with even a casual interest in adult films showed up for my readings. Some of them were crazy. Not just a little eccentric, mind you. Clinically insane. In San Francisco, a man handed me a business card with a picture of himself having sex with his girlfriend... (read more) From "The Making of a Marine Officer" On August 13, 2001, my forty-four-man infantry platoon sailed from San Diego on what was supposed to be a routine deployment to Asia and the Middle East. The world was mostly at peace, and a big mission for us would have been delivering food in East Timor or maybe evacuating a U.S. embassy somewhere... (read more) From "On 'Like a Rolling Stone' in Martin Scorsese's No Direction Home" Martin Scorsese's Dylan documentary — a shape-shifting assemblage of 1950s and 1960s film footage, still photos, strange music, and interviews with Dylan and compatriots conducted over the past years by Dylan's manager, Jeff Rosen — never holds still. It allows, say, the Irish folksinger Liam Clancy, telling stories of Dylan in Greenwich Village, to contradict Dylan telling his own stories about the same thing; the film contradicts itself... (read more) From "An Inner Life" It is the 7th of February 1922: an artist is standing at a desk, in a high tower, its windows looking out on snow-capped mountains. If we peer over the artist's shoulder, we can watch the words being formed on the page... (read more) From "Fiction in the Age of Poverty" Since the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001, there's been much talk in the literary community about the state of the novel. Some, like Nobel Prize winner V. S. Naipaul, simply declared it dead, incapable of addressing our new concerns in the age of terrorism... (read more) From "Books, Most Devoured" My favorite comments about a book are the ones where people confess to reading it in a single sitting or in a couple of extended reading-bursts. Some even offer up a time to support their claims. Two hours. Six hours. Two days. Others name places: in the car, on the train, in the rain, at work, in bed after the kids are asleep, with a flashlight... (read more) From "Bookseller by Day, Editor and Writer by Night" I may look like your normal bookstore employee — facial stubble, nerd glasses, untucked shirt, jeans, scuffed shoes, the little red sticker that says "INFO" on it — but I do much more than serve customers and shelve books here at Powell's... (read more) From "What's Love?" What's love, again? No, seriously: what is it? Why are you quoting song lyrics? Do the lyrics of love songs actually cut to the heart of the matter, or are they simply so vague that it feels like they do? Why does one's own love feel as if it cuts to the heart of things, but other people's loves feel like vague amusements? Why are love songs we don't like so noxious? How can we love a song so dearly for a number of years and then suddenly find it embarrassing? Also, a person? (read more) From "On Falling in Love (with Novels)" In his essay "On Falling in Love," Robert Louis Stevenson wrote that, "there is only one event in life which really astonishes a man and startles him out of his prepared opinions. Everything else befalls him much as expected." He was speaking of love but I like to believe he was also speaking about writing novels... (read more) From "Changing the World One Bill at a Time" When I went to Portland State University in the '70s, a lot of us were out to change the world. Sociology and education were popular majors with people who wanted to make a difference. Accounting was a bit suspect, perhaps mercenary sounding, as I discovered when one student declined to be my partner on a class project after she found out what my major was. I wanted to change the world, too, but I chose a very practical area to work on. I wanted to help people with their money... (read more) From "A Fresh Chapter of History" "American history," James Baldwin once remarked, "is longer, larger, more various, more beautiful, and more terrible than anything anyone has ever said about it." That's true, of course, but it doesn't mean we can't keep trying. While no individual writer can ever hope to do justice to the full sweep of this country's history, we can at least contribute a few fresh chapters to the overall narrative... (read more) From "The Gang's All Here" Writing The Gang That Wouldn't Write Straight was the fulfillment of a dream — to actually delve deep into a subject that excited me and get paid for it. The book, which is a history of the New Journalism movement, was met with raised eyebrows by some when I first got started, especially from old line journalists... (read more) From "Ghosts of My Brother" Is it possible to capture a life in a book? That's what I set out to do when I wrote my memoir, Jesus Land. I was weary of mourning my brother David in silence. Even after 20 years, the merciless fact of his death stabbed my heart like a steak knife whenever I thought of him. I felt compelled to record his footprint on this earth... (read more) From "The Alexandria Link Revealed" Ideas come at the most unlikely times. For me, it happened one evening in Camden, South Carolina. I was there for an appearance at a local bookstore when the husband of our host asked if I'd ever heard of a man named Kamal Salibi. When I said no, he told me about three books Salibi had written, beginning in the late 1980s... (read more) From "Transcendental Ticcing" Dahlia Season, my collection of short stories and a novella, is full of trannies. They serve as my tales' crushes. Heroes. Bit players. Saviors. They take the landscape of gender and reinvent it. Their bodies are battlegrounds and playgrounds. Just like mine has been... (read more) From "Wordless" When I was twenty years old I got on a plane at the end of December and flew from Vermont, where I was a junior in college, to Taipei. I traveled alone, with no plan in place other than to improve my Mandarin, the language I had been studying for two years... (read more) From "The Axeman" Last summer I was invited to speak on a panel of mystery writers at the Swedish consulate in Los Angeles. They seated me — the woman who had investigated her own attempted axe murder that took place in Central Oregon's Cline Falls State Park in 1977 — next to acclaimed Swedish mystery writer Hakan Nesser, whose latest book, Borkmann's Point, tells the story of a serial axe-murderer who terrorizes a small Swedish town... (read more) From "The Power of Denial" I can't remember who said Never underestimate the power of denial, but denial was very much on Suze Orman's mind when she gave an interview to the New York Times Magazine last month — an interview that was mostly noted for her coming out of the closet, but should have been picked up for the number of times she managed to scold the interviewer... (read more) From "What a Real, Living, Durable Economy Looks Like" I've spent the last twenty years of my adult life writing and thinking about global warming. I can tell you about hydrogen, hybrid cars, solar panels, wind turbines, green building, carbon offsets, carbon sequestration, carbon credits, and on and on and on and on... (read more) From "Unnamed" The first time anyone told me to change my name I think it was intended as a compliment. It was in a class on Nabokov, at a college in upstate NY, and my professor had a long, richly-vowelled Armenian name. He'd given us the option of writing something creative for our final papers, so I'd written an alternate ending to Lolita (in which Humbert repents)... (read more) From "Rancho Malcontento" It just so happens that when I was finishing up Hick — and by "finishing up Hick," I mean procrastinating furiously — I was living at a place called Rancho Malcontento. Aptly named, as it was a dirty white, wooden house in the Echo Park hills with the words "Rancho Contento" dancing festively above the threshold in playful western font... (read more) |








