TV slots are a great chance to shove your book under the noses of people who don’t read reviews (probably because there aren’t that many published any more). Jaclyn Levin (Senior Publishing Producer for NBC News) answered some questions from 26th Story about how to get your book noticed by a TV producer. Check it out here.
Finally, we’re back online and ready to post again. I cannot believe it took so long. No internet - it felt like the end of the world.
Our internets are currently down. Normal service should resume tomorrow.
…It took me half an hour to post that.
Wonderful article in the Wall Street Journal, from author and writing teacher Luc Sante, about his personal library and why he loves books. He starts by talking about what happened when he started weeding books out of his collection, in preparation for moving house:
I discovered that I owned no fewer than five copies of André Breton’s Nadja, not even all in different editions. I owned two copies of St. Clair McKelway’s True Tales from the Annals of Crime & Rascality, identical down to the mylar around the dust jacket. I had books in three languages I don’t actually read. It occurred to me that I had little need for most of the shrubbery surrounding the works of major authors: the letters (with one or two significant exceptions), the critical approaches (unless they are worth reading on their own terms), and any biography over 500 pages long (except maybe those by Richard Ellmann and Leon Edel). I also had no need for books with funny titles, books acquired only because everybody else was reading them, books with no value except as objects, and books that inspired a vague sense of dread whenever they caught my eye - possible cornerstones of culture that nevertheless only solitary confinement would ever compel me to read.
He goes on to talk about what’s left of his collection (which is still impressive, the removal of 30 boxes of books aside), and how it’s arranged.
There’s nothing inert about these shelves, no men’s-club-library or college-chapel somnolence here - it’s a hive of activity, abuzz with rhythms and images and ideas. As for time: I shelve literature chronologically… so that I can see as well as feel the 19th century turning into the 20th, the prewar cascading into the postwar, the spines gradually becoming brighter as the present day approaches.
Perhaps I should reorganise my bookshelves… Anyway, he ends with a discussion of electronic books and all that. He’s in favour of the change to digital, but brings up a few things he’ll miss about good old books.
The tactility of books assists my memory, for one thing. I can’t remember the quote I’m searching for, or maybe even the title of the work that contains it, but I can remember that the book is green, that the margins are unusually wide, and that the quote lies two-thirds of the way down a right-hand page. If books all appear as nearly identical digital readouts, my memory will be impoverished. And packaging is of huge importance, too - the books I read because I liked their covers usually did not disappoint.
Happy New Year, everyone!
AWM is back from holidays, and taking the time to catch up on everything that’s gone on. Which isn’t that much, really, but still…
Ok, so it’s not even December yet but we came across this on Boing Boing today and felt like sharing some festive spirit!
It’s from a gorgeous photographic site called IJM and we have to agree that it’s the perfect bookish alternative to a Christmas Tree!
For years, the poetry establishment has ‘hailed’ 19th century Scots bard William McGonnagall’s lament about the Tay Bridge Disaster as the worst poem ever written in the English language, for lines such as:
And the cry rang out all o’er the town, Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down
But now it seems there is a new contender in town. Once published in a highly praised antholgoy of poems, 19th century Brit Theophile Jules-Henri Marzials is now being condemned for his ‘appalling’ verse aptly entitled The Tragedy. The last line in particular has critics groaning with despair as the ‘absolute epitome of awfulness’!
The line in question?
Drop / Dead. / Plop, flop. / Plop
To figure out what on earth he’s on about read the poem in full at The Guardian.
A brilliant new online idea to help ‘authors and audiences meet’ has just been launched in Australia.
Already well established in the US, BookTour.com invites authors/publishers/agents/bookshops to post dates and information for tours, signings and book events. Register on the site and you can check who is coming to your area and when - you can even request a visit from a favourite author or track their tour via email. You can also read stories about ‘Authors’ adventures from the road’ or add a ‘widget’ to your profile for news alerts from authors or venues you are interested in.
The site currently lists over 2500 authors and it’s starting to really take off over here.
Adam Goldstein CTO of BookTour told us ‘We launched the site for Australia only a few weeks ago, but have had an absolutely fantastic response… Australian users have requested dozens of authors visit their areas, added dozens of events, and been some of our most active users.’
We came across this at excellent blog site Boing Boing…
These books are incredible. Artist Brian Dettmer meticulously splices and carves classic books into stunning 3-dimensional works of art - in self-styled Book Autopsies!
See more of Brian’s work in his Altered States series including ‘extractions’ of road and regional maps, encyclopaedias and even cassette tapes!
Day 2 at the Brisbane Writers Festival and things have kicked off early with a lively session of chat, songs and guitar strumming with indigenous musicians Kev Carmody and Richard J Franklin.
Franklin urged the audience to help change the shape of Australia and recognise Aboriginal culture as a ‘living, breathing entity’ to make the nation more inclusive of the 500 aboriginal tribes and all the other cultures which make up Australia in 2007. And together they led the audience in a range of old style ‘Protest Songs’ and witty prose!
More to come later in the day…