Random thoughts and observations from a weekend spent with authors and readers

Booktopia, the annual weekend retreat in Vermont that brings authors and readers together, has come to a close. Hosted by Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness, producers of the Books of the Nightstand podcast, it has become one of our favorite weekends of the year. As I sit at my dining room table on Monday morning, I reflect back on some of my thoughts and lessons from this amazing weekend.

________________________________ Two authors compared the release of their books as a wedding day. I must assume that this is a female thing.

I think of a book release more like opening day of the baseball season.

Let the competition begin.

________________________________ Steve Yarbrough and I have identical writing processes. Identical. I feel like slightly less of a hack today thanks to Steve.

________________________________ I heard three writers talk about how their first books brought validation to the time spent away from families, friends and other pursuits, as well as self-assurance about their standing as a writer. I suspect that this is also a more typical female reaction.

Sometimes the arrogance, selfishness and self-centeredness of the average American man makes life a little easier.

________________________________ Listening to Nichole Bernier talk about how she finds the time to write with a large family and other obligations was a lesson for all. She doesn’t watch television. She apologizes for her messy house. She has given up on running a marathon. She strips her life of things that do not contribute to the pursuit of her goals. It’s impressive. Possibly insane. But that’s the life of a writer.

So many times I hear would-be writers say they just don’t have the time to write. I asked this question at a writing session this weekend:

Would you rather get out of bed at 6:00 AM every day for the next year and have no book written at the end of the year or get out of bed at 5:30 AM every day for the next year and have a book in your hand when the year is finished?

Everyone can sacrifice 30 minutes of sleep in pursuit of their dream.

________________________________ Author Jon Clinch and I have a book idea that will hopefully expand the base of male fiction readers.

This should be easy, since none exist.

This is an exaggeration, of course. Of the approximately 100 Booktopia attendees, there were was a solid five or six who were not female.

________________________________ A tip I learned while listening to Will Schwalbe speak to readers during one of his author sessions:

Will asks just as many questions of his audience as they ask of him. It’s a generous and genuine way of engaging people in the discussion and something I should do more often.

________________________________ I was both surprised and entertained by the debate over how readers and authors should handle online reviews of books. It was one of my favorite moments of the weekend. For a few seconds, I thought we might have actual fisticuffs, which would’ve been AWESOME.

A Booktopia rumble.

I think Ann Kingman would’ve kicked all our asses.

I have my own opinions on the subject and will save them for a post later this week.

________________________________ It’s often said that publishing is a small world. It’s true.

It turns out that author Will Schawlbe is my editor’s former boss. Unfortunately, Will was too much of a gentleman to offer me any embarrassing stories about Brenda.

Also, author Amy Brill has been serving on The Moth’s advisory council for years and is telling her first story onstage on Tuesday night. Sadly, Amy and I kept missing chances to chat this weekend, and I didn’t learn about her Moth connections until after she had gone home.

________________________________ I listened to two female authors speak about the challenges involved with balancing their writing life with their various other roles, including those of mother and wife.

I found the inclusion of the role of wife interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man talk about the demands associated with his role as a husband.

I’m not sure what this means. Perhaps men simply don’t speak so openly about these demands as often. More likely women are more thoughtful and considerate than men.

I’ll continue to think about it.

________________________________ Combining 19 people at three separate tables on one $600 check was a terrible decision by our waitress. Failing to inform us of this lunacy prior to doing so was inexcusable. Explaining that we could each pay cash or simply divide the total by 19 was insulting.

Yes. I’m still annoyed about this.

________________________________ A couple of years ago I wrote a post about all the jobs that I’ve had over the course of my lifetime. After listening to author Chris Pavone speak on Saturday night about the multitude of jobs that he has held during his lifetime, I’d love to see him write a similar (albeit considerably longer) post.

________________________________ I have always believed that one of the best questions to ask a person when getting to know them is about the path that led them to their current job. Paul once again proved me right on Saturday night. His paperboy-turned-wholesale produce manager was one of my favorite stories from the weekend.

________________________________ My wife is not afraid to speak in public. In a few weeks, she will be hosting our first Speak Up storytelling event at Real Art Ways.

Still, I was shocked when she rose from her seat in the audience on Sunday morning, walked over to Booktopia co-host Ann Kingman, and demanded the microphone so that she could thank Ann and Michael for the incredible weekend they give to us each year.

I was less surprised when she became verklempt while speaking and had to tag-team her closing remarks with author Nichole Bernier. She’s as easy to make cry as Ann Kingman.

Still, had you told me that my wife would spontaneously offer the closing remarks for Booktopia 2013, I would’ve thought you crazy.

________________________________ Both of our children slept through the night for the three nights that they spent with the in-laws. Charlie even napped fairly well.

   

________________________________ I left Vermont thinking that if I didn’t have to spend so much time writing, I might be able to read as often as these crazy book fanatics. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Booktopia blurs the lines between author and reader.

Booktopia is a series of literary retreats organized by Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness, host of the podcast Books on the Nightstand. For the past three years, my wife and I have been coming to Vermont in April to attend these retreats, and last year, I attended Booktopia Santa Cruz as well.

I was a featured author at the very first Booktopia for my novel UNEXPECTEDLY, MILO, and last year I was a featured author again in Santa Cruz for MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND.

In addition to Manchester, Vermont, this year’s Booktopias will also take place in Bellingham, Washington and Petokkey, Michigan.

As this most recent Booktopia weekend comes to a close, I am reminded of an email I received a week ago from a reader in California. It was titled “Will we see you in Bellingham?” and it read:

Hi Matthew.  Your friends from Santa Cruz would like to know... Will you attend again?

I was flattered by the thought that someone far away was hoping I would be joining them in Washington later this year, but in truth, I wasn’t sure if this person was asking me this question as an author or simply as a lover of books.

Unlike any other literary event that I have attended, Booktopia mixes authors and readers into one big melting pot, and the distinction between who is writing books and who is reading books is rapidly blurred because we are all reading books. Authors and readers alike. As often as I find myself talking about one of my books with a reader, I am just as likely to be engaged in a conversation about another book that I did not write. As honored as I am to speak at Booktopia, I attend these gatherings first as a reader who wants to hear from an author rather than an author who wants to meet readers.

I suspect this is the case with almost all of the Booktopia authors as well. Within a very short time, you find that you are less of an author at a Booktopia event and more of a reader who happens to write from time to time as well.

The answer to my friends in Santa Cruz is probably no. The dates to the next two Booktopia events don’t line up well for me, and travel to Michigan and Washington can be expensive. But I haven’t ruled out either trip yet, simply because even though I am almost certainly not going, to admit that reality would make me too sad.

It begins with a love of the object

I am a library maker.

Clara told me that I am a “library maker.”

“Because you make books, Daddy,” she said.

She could’ve burned the house down and spent all the money in the checking account on chocolate ice cream and doll house furniture (her two favorite things), and I still wouldn’t have punished her today.

Be different. But be prepared to suffer, despite what parents and teachers may tell you.

While I think this book looks excellent, it also seems to embrace a fundamental flaw in the teaching of young people.

It’s an issue that I am slightly obsessed with.

We tell our children to be themselves. Be different. Blaze their own trail. Ignore peer pressure. Find their own style.

But unless those differences allow you to guide Santa’s sleigh on a foggy night (as is the case for Rudolph) or fly (as is the case for Dumbo), you are likely to lead a difficult life. People will punish you for being different. Nonconformity breeds contempt.

You may ultimately succeed, but it will never be as easy as your parents and teachers make it seem.

Nor will it be as easy as this book seems to imply.

Do Not Read List

I can’t remember the last time I was anti-book, but in this case, I agree wholeheartedly.

The future of publishing

When it comes to the future of publishing, I want it on the record that my wife and I are doing our jobs to ensure the existence of future readers.

A easy-to-implement, nearly-free, must-steal idea for libraries and bookstores everywhere: Blind Date with a Book

On Thursday I had the honor of speaking to a large and enthusiastic audience at the Townsend Public Library in Townsend, Massachusetts. MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND was chosen for their annual One Book One Town event, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I spent the first hour talking about the craft and business of writing and the second hour discussing the book. There were so many questions from the audience that the lights literally went out before we were finished.

The library is beautiful and the staff is knowledgeable, down-to-earth and incredibly passionate about books.

While strolling through the aisles before the event, I stumbled upon this ingenious means of promoting books that I think every library  and bookstore should steal immediately:

Blind Date with a Book.

Books are wrapped in colorful wrapping paper, adorned with clues about the book, and left on the shelf for patrons to check out as a surprise read.

In addition to providing library patrons with the occasional surprise read, these books would make for great gifts in a bookstore. They come already wrapped in the event the buyer is in a rush (which I always am), and there is an added layer of mystery and suspense that makes the gift unique and a little more fun and interesting for both the giver and the receiver.

    

USA versus UK

The Millions recently ran a piece entitled Judging Books by Their Covers 2013: U.S. Vs. U.K. that compares book covers in the United States to their literary counterparts in the United Kingdom.

It’s an interesting look at the different interpretations of a novel. My reactions to the books featured in the Millions piece tend to be split (though I think the Hillary Mantel and Madeline Miller UK covers are far superior), as are my feelings for MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, which actually published first in the UK.

My opinion regarding which one I prefer changes almost daily.

 

I’m an Elizabeth Bennet.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE is 200 years old this week.

In celebration of this anniversary, Anglerfish Magazine created a “Which Pride and Prejudice Character Are You?” flowchart.

Usually these flowcharts are nonsense, but this one seems, at least for me, spot on.

It turns out that I am a Lizzie (Elizabeth Bennet), which is described as:

You are strong willed and aren’t afraid to express your opinion when you feel the moment is right. You can find it difficult to empathize with people of a different opinion or nature to yourself.

If asked to write a two sentence description of myself, I may have chosen these very words.

No wonder I like the book so much. Other than the emphasis placed on marrying a wealthy man (I cannot tell you how much this desire both disgusts and disturbs me, regardless of the time period), I have always adored the story.

The flowchart also led me to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, an online, modern day video journal adaption of the book that I highly recommend. Hilarious and exceptionally well done.

I wonder if his children’s book is nearly as impenetrable as his adult fiction.

I’d purchase a copy to find out for myself, but it is sadly out of print. Amazon is offering it for as low as $98.97, but I don’t need to know that badly.

My fictional relationships with women

I’ve had three serious but fictional relationships with women in my life.

Each one was more serious than the last.

My first began in elementary school with Annette Funicello. Annette appeared in the beach blanket bingo movies that preceded Creature Double Feature on Chanel 56 on Saturday mornings. I took one look at her and instantly fell in love. When Annette was singing, I believed with all my heart that she was singing to me.

I was eight years old at the time, so what the hell did I know.

Though passionate and sincere, my torrid affair with Annette Funicello came to an end with my discovery of Laura Ingalls Wilder, first through the Little House of the Prairie television series and then through her books. Though I was somewhat aware (though in constant denial) that Laura Ingalls Wilder was both married and dead, the feelings that I had with this woman, thanks to Melissa Gilbert and especially her books, were not to be deterred. While Annette was more of a fling, I had a genuine love affair with Laura Ingalls Wilder that lasted longer than I would care to admit.

It was especially fitting that the last time I saw my mother alive, we watched Little House on the Prairie together. It was like bringing an old friend to her bedside one last time.

After Laura, it was a long time before I engaged in another fictional relationship. This makes sense, of course, because in that time, I grew up and became an adult.

My adulthood also makes it admittedly disturbing that there is one more fictional relationship on my list.  

I was in my early thirties at the time, living on my own following my divorce from my ex-wife. It was an odd time in my life, both pleasantly and tragically absent of companionship, and in this strange space, I fell in love with a woman named Jaye on the tragically short-lived but extraordinary television show Wonderfalls.

Until I met my wife, I had never met a more perfect woman than Jaye Tyler (fictional women tend to be surprisingly perfect), and the Friday evenings that we spent together came to mean a great deal to me. There were nights, in fact, when I told me friends that I could not meet them until after 10:00, because I had a 9:30 date with Jaye.

“Record the damn show,” one of my friends once said.

“I can’t do that to Jaye,” I said, and I meant it. For the briefest moment of time, I became convinced that I could be happy dating this fictional television character every Friday night.

And I was.

Eventually I began dating in real life, probably because Fox began changing the show’s time slot, and I could see that the end was near. Wonderfalls only aired a total of four episodes before being canceled despite outstanding reviews from critics, but I purchased the full season on DVD as soon as it was available and have since shared the show with my wife and several friends.

Everyone who watches Wonderfalls loves the show. They cite its clever, quirky plot and cast of unique and compelling characters, but I suspect that it’s Jaye that they love the most.

For about a month of my life, she was the one who I loved the most as well.

Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness

Imagine:

You launch a podcast in order to share your passion about books and story with the world. You dedicate your time, money and expertise to the cause.

In return, you expect nothing. In fact, you actively reject opportunities to profit from your enterprise.

As a result of your time and effort, a community of like-minded people is born. It is an extraordinary group of extraordinary people, but it is a group that would have never come together without your efforts. Lifelong friendships flourish. Bicoastal bonds are born. Introverts like those who Susan Cain spoke about in her now-famous TED Talk are given pathways to meeting new people who share their same passion and values. Stories are shared. Books are passed from hungry reader to hungry reader.

It’s a real community that did not exist and then did.

It’s an amazing story. Honestly. 

But you are not finished. Not even close.

You decide to bring the community together in real life. You plan a weekend. You assemble a group of authors. You assemble a group of readers from the community. You most assuredly lose money in the process, but in the process, magic happens.

Authors meet authors, and lifelong friendships are established.

Readers meet readers, and lifelong friendships are established.

Readers meet authors, authors meet readers, and they discover that they are all simply book lovers at heart.

For some, it is the best three days of their year.

Magic.

And you do all this without an eye towards profit or growth or income or fame. You do this simply because you want to spend time meeting people in the community that you have helped to create. You do this because you care about the people in that community.

But you are not finished. Not even close.

The following year you bring the community together again. Not just once but three times, to locations stretching from coast to coast, insisting every step of the way to make these retreats unconscionably affordable even though members of the still-growing community would pay three or four or five times your fee in order to attend and consider it a bargain.

But you prefer to keep the cost low, your stress level high and your workload almost unmanageable because you insist on placing every member of the community ahead of yourself.

Once again friendships are born. Relationships are strengthened. Readers and authors come together in conversation around their mutual love of books.

Magic.

Next year you’ll do it again. The stress and workload will remain the same, but you don’t care. It’s what you do. 

Most astounding of all, you think this is normal. You think that anyone would have done it this way, this how. You don’t think that what you’ve done is terribly special. You think it’s the members of the community who make this special, and while this may be true, you fail to realize that you are the single most important members of the community.

All of this would never have happened without you.

You have done something great. Something amazing. Something rarely done before. 

But you don’t have time to listen to such nonsense. There is a new podcast to record. A new retreat to plan. A new book to read. A new story to recommend.

The people who I have described exist. They are Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness, hosts of Books of the Nightstand, a weekly podcast about books. But after reading this, I hope that I have made it clear that their hosting duties are just a tiny part of what they do.

I have spent the last five years publishing books. In that time, my life has grown and changed in ways that I could have never imagined. The blessings that my novels have brought to my life are incalculable.

I rate Ann and Michael’s friendship and my membership in the Books on the Nightstand community among the very best of these blessings.

If you love books, do yourself a favor:

Give their podcast a listen. Become a member of the community. Join us for a retreat. Meet Ann Kingman and Michael Kindness, the two people who have made all this possible.

Some of my favorite things

A spiteful Santa, a bratty boy, a dinosaur and poop?

I’m not going to lie. This book sounds great.

Read Shakespeare and avoid children’s theater

On Saturday night I had the honor of joining nine other authors and audiobook narrators for Books on the Nightstand’s Celebration of Authors. Each of us were asked to speak on a topic of our choice (presumably pertaining to books and literature), and I decided just a few minutes before my turn to speak to talk about Shakespeare and the horrors of children’s theater.

Unbeknownst to me, friends and readers of my work were recording my talk and posted it to YouTube shortly thereafter. An audio recording on my talk, as well as the talks of Tayari Jones, Ann Packer, Tupelo Hassman, Simon Vance, Grover Gardner, Cara Black, Sarah McCoy, Adam Johnson, and Lynne Cox, will be available on the Books on the Nightstand podcast in the coming months, but if you can’t wait, you can hear and see my talk from that night.

Hop on Pop indeed

Dr. Seuss cheated on his wife, Helen Palmer Geisel, while she was battling cancer and other related illnesses.

Then she committed suicide.

Less than a year later, Dr. Seuss married his mistress.

A bushel of book recommendations

Whenever I speak at an author event, I make a point of recommending books to the audience. The following are the books that I am recommending on my current book tour:

I loved this book, and I think it is excellent for adults as well kids. It would be a challenging book for even my strongest fifth grade readers, but I wouldn’t hesitate to put it in their hands. The protagonist, Flavia de Luce, is a female detective and chemist of sorts, which adds to its appeal for me. There are never enough female protagonists in the hands of my students.

I’m not normally a fan of graphic novels, but this autobiography of David Small, who experienced a horrific childhood, is amazing. So full of hope despite the bleak landscape of his life. A great choice for book clubs who are looking for a quick read and a conversation starter.

As the father of a three year old, this book has been a blessing. It teaches strategies for converting your baby into the weight required for strength training. Genius!

Every teacher, regardless of grade level or experience, must read this book. There is no better instructive text for teachers.

Peter Benchley’s JAWS was based upon the Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916. Michael Capuzzo’s book is the terrifying account of these attacks.

This book is the first gift that my wife ever gave me. It is the story of Despereaux, a mouse who refuses to conform to mouse society and is forced to pay a steep price for his noncompliance. It is a brilliant story, perfect for adult and children, and it contains one of my favorite quotes of all time:

“Reader, you must know that an interesting fate (sometimes involving rats, sometimes not) awaits almost everyone, mouse or man, who does not conform.”

Reading a Billy Collins poem is often like reading an essay and a story blended into one through the use of perfect language. His poetry is accessible, amusing, enlightening and pitch perfect. I strongly recommend you listen to Collins read his poetry rather than reading it yourself.

Or better yet, do both.

Nora Ephron may be remember best for films like When Harry Met Sally and You’ve Got Mail, but her essays are her finest work. This book is no exception. 

Forgetfulness

At last night’s book launch, I read a poem by Billy Collins while recommending one of this books of poetry. I also spoke about the importance of listening to Collins read his own poems and the remarkable visuals that have been applied to some of his work.

This is one of my favorites:

Three packages arrived last week. Only one was creepy and sexually inappropriate.

On Friday the first copy of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND arrived at my door, wrapped beautifully and accompanied by a note from my editor. It was the kind of note you tuck away into a box and save forever.

The mailman has been especially good to me lately.

Earlier in the week, I received two other interesting packages.

The first was my official title confirming my status as a Lord of the Principality of Sealand. It’s official. As soon as I have an actual office, I’ll be hanging this beauty up in a place where everyone can see it in hopes that they will start referring to me as Lord Dicks.

 

The second package contained a book that I couldn’t resist ordering after seeing it in a list of the Ten Worst Book Covers in the History of Literature. I was expecting the book to be silly and amusing, but it turned out to be creepy, cringe-worthy and overly-explicit. Sadly, I ‘m going to have to stuff it into a drawer in fear that someone might see it and think the worst.

It was clearly not written with the sense of humor needed to pull this kind of thing off.

In truth, I was hoping to order HOW TO AVOID HUGE SHIPS: SECOND EDITION first, but the cheapest copy on Amazon costs more than $100.

Why didn’t anyone tell me that all these women were have sex in front of me?

I’m not sure which part of this column is more stupid:

The part where L.G. from Phoenix asks if it is appropriate for her sister to be reading FIFTY SHADES OF GREY in front of their father (while clearly taking a passive-aggressive swipe at her sibling in the process)… 

… or the part where The Boston Globe’s Robin Abraham asserts in her Miss Conduct column that reading this book in public equates to a public sex act.

Fifty shades of gross! Your poor father was probably only feigning unconsciousness out of embarrassment.

Reading in public is a fine, improving act. As a city dweller, I have always enjoyed the way public reading creates a barrier — yet a permeable one — between the individual and the people surrounding him or her. You have a sense of fellow feeling with readers, don’t you? Oh, look, that guy over there likes the New Yorker, too. Commuters catching up on the newspapers, students plowing through dense academic tomes, “escape” readers with their lurid science fiction or crime paperbacks . . . reading in public gives people a little window into your mind.

And therein lies the, er, rub. The purpose of Fifty Shades of Grey is to arouse the reader, which means that reading it in public is about as appropriate as feeling yourself up in the coffee shop. You are forcing other people to witness a sexual act.

There’s so much wrong with this response (and there’s more in the column if you’d like to see her complete answer), the stupidest being:

“Reading in public is a fine, improving act.”

What the hell does that mean? Improving? Is this a column written for nineteenth century girls attending finishing school? Has Abraham declared herself the arbitrator of all public activities? Is it her role to determine which activities are “fine and improving” and which are less so?  

“A fine, improving act?”

Could she sound more pretentious?

And did you notice the way she matches readers to their choice of books?

She is a New Yorker fan, of course.

Students read “dense academic tomes” as if they’ve stepped right out of a Harry Potter film onto the bus. No Kindles or Nooks or iPads for these young people. Dusty, intellectual books for them. 

“Escape” readers read “lurid science fiction and crime paperbacks,” because apparently everything written in these two genres is considered lurid in Abraham’s mind. 

And did you notice her use of quotation marks around the word escape? What’s the point? It’s almost as if Abraham cannot deign to touch the concept of an escape reader without first bracketing the term inside the protective confines of the quotation mark.

God I hate this women.

But of all the stupidity contained within her response, this is the worst:

“The purpose of Fifty Shades of Grey is to arouse the reader, which means that reading it in public is about as appropriate as feeling yourself up in the coffee shop.”

Is she serious? I have yet to read FIFTY SHAES OF GREY, but I am having a difficult time envisioning the reading of this book as a sexual act. 

My mother-in-law read the book on her Nook, which means she could’ve been reading it in my presence. I have no way of knowing for sure. 

Am I to believe that my mother-in-law may have been engaging in a sexual act in my presence?

In fact, I have seen dozens of women reading this book in public over the last three months. Am I to believe that each of these women were engaging in an act akin to masturbating in a coffee shop? If so, I wish someone would have told me about this sooner. I would have paid closer attention to these deviants.

Hell, maybe I should’ve called the authorities.

A woman was reading the book on the treadmill beside me last week. I had no idea how shocked or embarrassed I was supposed to feel. No one warned me. Little did I know what this sexual deviant was doing beneath the veneer of a high impact cardio workout.

I feel dirty just thinking about it.

And slightly stupider for reading this ridiculous column.