An amateur no more...

 

 

 So, this past week, I realized a life-long dream.  After years of working the amateur circuit, I have become a professional bookseller.  What's an amateur bookseller, you may be asking?  Well, I've had a pretty fierce case of bookseller-envy going, and it wasn't at all uncommon for me to loiter in a bookstore for hours, hand-selling favorite titles to random customers, answering questions... possibly moving friends' books to more advantageous shelf positions.

 

I am delighted to announce that I've been hired by Bookshop West Portal, one of San Francisco's

finest independent booksellers.  (Thank you Neal, Kevin, & Richard!)  I've been shopping at Bookshop West Portal for years.  They've also hosted some of my favorite author events: Ann Patchett, Gary Shteyngart, Jonathan Tropper, my pal Matt Richtel, and so many more.  My new co-workers are people I want as friends.  Take my word for it, it's a really good place!

 

It was kind of fun to announce this new job to friends and the world.  There was a widespread cry of "You're perfect for it!"  And I was tickled by the number of best-selling authors who took the time to congratulate me.  I spend so much time with writers; I can't wait to see a friend show up in the shop to sign stock.  And I've already started hand-selling my favorite books.  Please don't tell my new bosses, but this feels a bit like being paid (albeit modestly) to do what I normally do:

• Follow the publishing industry
• Read a bunch of books
• Talk to people about them

Best. Job. Ever.

So, yes, it's business as usual around here, but now when I read the PW Daily, I can feel noble.  "This is for work," I say.  Peruse reviews in the New York Times--for work.  Earlier tonight I was schmoozing with a Pulitzer Prize winner and a National Book Award winner--for work.  And I'm reading more than ever, which, as you know, is saying something.

I fear that my television viewing--already well below the national average--is going to suffer.  As these things go, I've probably read more new titles than the average bookseller.  My iPhone tells me that I read an average of 4.3 books a week last year.  But surely I can up that number?  I would really like to read at least 5 books a week this year.  250 books in 2014 sounds like a reasonable goal.  After just a few days in the store, it's become incredibly obvious just how much easier it is to (a) sell a book, and (b) help a customer, if you've actually read every book in the store.  Happily, I was able to compare and contrast The Goldfinch and The Luminaries for a customer this week.  (That's 1,600 pages right there.)  I was able to give my personal seal of approval to Lisa O'Donnell's debut novel, The Death of Bees to a nervous book club reader.  I was able to recommend Robin Sloan's Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore and Ernie Cline's Ready Player One for the woman looking for something light to bring a sick friend.

Oh, can we talk gifts?  I wrapped a lot of gifts this week!  (This is actually pathetic.  My family will attest that my gift-wrapping skills are remedial at best.  So much to learn.)  But the subject of gifts reminds me of the best thing I saw this week, and it happened on my very first day.  It was the best omen imaginable.

Bookshop West Portal is tremendously valued by the local community.  It's so incredibly obvious.   Any number of customers mentioned how important it was to support their local independent bookstore as I rang them up.  And there's a terrific core of super-friendly regulars.  They're greeted by name, as I am in so many bookstores across the city.  I was warmly welcomed by all that I met.  That first day I met a customer that I'll simply refer to as "the Hungarian Gentleman."  He came by to pick up a special order that included hardback copies of Wildwood and Under Wildwood by Colin Meloy (which are already out in paperback).  "How many copies of these books do you think I buy?" he asked my colleague.  His guess of "a dozen" was a little low.  Apparently, it was more like 30 copies of each book.  This lovely man, this Hungarian Gentleman, buys these beautiful books to hand out to random young people that he meets as he goes through his daily life.  He'll stop and gift them to a kid on the street and go on his way. 

The Hungarian Gentleman had to feed his meter.  He dropped off the books in his car and came back.  While he was browsing, a teenage girl came in looking for a copy of Veronica Roth's latest, Allegiant.  I didn't witness this interaction, but he must have approached her.  He wound up buying her copies of both Meloy books, as well as her copy of Allegiant.  It was a not inconsiderable total, and he was so clearly happy to do it.  This Hungarian Gentleman is a literary Santa Claus!  (I'm not kidding; I've heard he sometimes takes poor booksellers out for meals.  Amazing.)  This man is doing everything possible to foster a love of reading in these young people, no strings attached.  I didn't know people like this existed.  I mean, I've been a Bookcrosser for years, but this is taking the  Random Act of Literary Kindness (RALK) to a whole new level.  And I get to work in a store where such people congregate.

I've only been on the job for a week.  I haven't had to schlep boxes of books until my back aches.  I haven't had a customer give me grief over a bad recommendation.  I haven't had the slightest negative experience.  I'm not an idiot.  Shiny, new jobs fade, and bad days are a part of life.  But, you know what?  Everyone who knows me knows that I was born to be a bookseller.  I already have been a bookseller.  I think that this is going to be a good fit.

VIDEO: Armisted Maupin in conversation with David Ulin

I know that I tend to go on and on about all the amazing literary events around San Francisco, but I can't help myself.  It's basically non-stop here.  And, as you've gathered, I tend to stay pretty well-informed about all this city has to offer.  Therefore, it was a bit of a shock that an amazing literary conference almost flew by completely under my radar this past weekend!  It was utterly random that I learned of it in time, but thank goodness I did!  I would have kicked myself if I'd missed it all.

The conference was held at the San Francisco Public Library on Friday and Saturday October 4-5, 2013.  It was free and open to the public.  It's a terrible shame they didn't publicize this wonderful event better because for the most part it was scarcely attended.  What was the conference?  It was called Tales from Two Cities: Writing from California.  San Francisco is obviously one of the "Two Cities," but the other is Los Angeles, and the second part of this conference will take place at the Los Angeles Public Library on February 21-22, 2014.  Angelenos, mark your calendars.  I freakin' hate LA, but gosh I'd love to attend the second half of this event!

Participants of the conference included Tobias Wolff, Robert Hass, Ellen Ullman, Phil Bronstein, Kim Stanley Robinson, and about two dozen more.  The unquestionable highlight was David Ulin's keynote interview with Armisted Maupin, filmed in its entirety above. 

I love Armisted Maupin!  I mean, I've been reading the Tales of the City for what?  A couple of decades now?  I sort of think I live in San Francisco because of these books.  At the very least, they're a factor.  In addition to a deep affection for his fiction, I've met and interacted with Armisted and his husband Christopher around town on any number of occasions now.  They are both just lovely.  It doesn't hurt--I suppose--that I tend to read his novels before they're published, and I always have effusive raves to share before anyone else has seen the work. 

With that in mind, I used a super secret source to acquire an advance galley of Armisted's January 2014 novel, The Days of Anna Madrigal, on short notice.  (Thank you, super secret source!!)  I grabbed it the night before the conference, and I basically power read the novel on Friday morning, before I would be seeing him that afternoon.  Oh, how wonderful it was to reenter Mr. Maupin's San Francisco!  My San Francisco is pretty awesome.  His is better.  And it's populated by such dear old friends.  I so enjoy visiting them. 

I read the novel in a bit over four hours without difficulty.  It's a wonderful addition to the canon.  The only thing is...  I didn't know until hearing Armisted speak that The Days of Anna Madrigal is the very last Tales novel.  If that's the case--and he assures me that it is--then it really is the perfect end to the series.  I just wish that I had known.  I would have savored it a little more.  I will surely have to read again.  Here's a thought...start over from the beginning and read all nine novels!  It sounds crazy, I know, but I've read these books a nearly unprecedented number of times.  They make me happy. 

I'm not reviewing this novel early, and you'll notice I haven't told you a thing beyond the title, however Armisted reveals some tantalizing tidbits in the video above.  (Plus, he's awesome and candid and very, very funny.  I so urge you to watch it in its entirety.)  I was so pleased that I'd managed to read the novel before hearing him speak.  And it was so nice to be able to share my enthusiasm and praise with him afterwards.  He was, as always, absolutely lovely.

Kudos, also, to the wonderful David Ulin, whose work as a reviewer/editor I've admired for years.  He conducts a delightful, spontaneous interview.  And he also gets bonus points as one of the organizers of this conference. 

As for the conference, I may share more of my own video here later, but for those who want more, faster, better, I have great news:  FORA.tv shot the entire event professionally.  You can view the whole shebang right here. 

World Book Night 2013: 20 Books, 5 Iconic Neighborhoods, 3 Independent Bookstores, 2 Talented Novelists, & a Partridge in a Pear Tree!

I don't mind admitting it:  A few years ago when World Book Night was only overseas, I was jealous.  You can imagine how thrilled I was, therefore, to participate in the first annual US World Book Night last year.  I was equally enthusiastic this year, but far more nomadic.  I didn't sign up to be a book giver for 2013 because who knows where I'll be living four months in the future, right? 

But I was relatively confident that I'd be able to participate.  Last year there were unclaimed books at my local independent bookseller, and I was counting on this year being the same.  (People are so flaky.)  As the day approached, I called over to the fabulous Booksmith on Haight Street to see if they had an unclaimed box and indeed they did.  I said, "I'll take it!"

Now last year, I got my first choice book, and I was thrilled and honored to be handing out copies of my favorite book of all time, John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany.  It was perfect!  This year, none of the thirty books spoke to me in as personal a way, so I figured, I'll just hand out whatever they give me.  I asked what book I'd be distributing and the guy on the phone told me, "Montana Sky."  I thought, That's odd.  I don't know that title.  Moments later, I found out why.  It's a popular Nora Roberts romance.  Oy.

This is not exactly my typical reading--although I actually have read

two of the prolific Ms. Roberts' 200+ novels.  They're both of the popular trashy underwater fiction subset of the romance genre, but they count.  Nonetheless, I am hardly an enthusiast.  Still, it was my plan to sell the heck out of those books.  I read the novel's description and some glowing reviews.  And then my ace in the hole--my friend Nicole, who may be Ms. Robert's #1 fan, and I totally mean that in the Kathy Bates sense of the phrase.  She seemed to think a made for TV movie starring John Corbett was a major selling point, and in at least one case, she may have been right.  (The book, incidentally, is about a wealthy rancher who dies leaving behind a $20 million dollar estate and three daughters from three different marriages.  They don't know each other but have to live together for a year to collect the loot.  Is it just me, or are you getting echoes of Lear?)  But I'm getting ahead of myself...

I had a lot going on Tuesday night.  My plan was just to run all over San Francisco, lugging the books in tow, and handing them out all along the way.  And that's pretty much how it went.  In the late afternoon, I headed over to the Booksmith to pick up the books.  The evening got off to a great start, as I was greeted by my very favorite bookseller, Cynthia, as I walked in the door.  A brief digression...  Remember how every time Norm walked into Cheers, everyone in the bar would call out, "Norm!"  I actually have been greeted with that "Susan!" at the Booksmith, and even when they don't actually say it, that's how I feel.  Okay, digression over.

So, the plan was to grab the books and go.  I was on a schedule, and it was going to be a long night.

That is so not what happened.  I was taken into the back room to locate the case of books.  Once there, all the booksellers and I started talking books.  We're uniformly enamored with Helene Wecker's debut, The Golem and the Jinni, which is actually having its book launch party at the Booksmith tonight.  Be there or be square.  But then someone called out, "Have you read Andrew Sean Greer's book?"  Uh, yeah.  I loved The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells more than words can say! Helene Wecker and Andy Greer are currently duking it out for my favorite book of 2013. Man, those booksellers are on it. So, the point is, I didn't get out of the store quite as quickly as I planned.

I needed to get all the way across the city, so I thought the Muni N train would be my quickest route.  I was handing out books in the Haight as I made my way to the train stop, and had even more success amongst the commuters.  Okay, they look kind of serious in the photo to the left, but I'm telling you, these commuters were thrilled to be gifted a book.  And the gentleman in the glasses?  He was so awesome!  He was the only man who took a Nora Roberts.  He was like, "What's this World Book Night all about?"  So I launched into a mini lecture and the commuters were totally into it.  I explained the idea was to especially target people who maybe aren't big readers, haven't read a book in a long time, or maybe can't afford books.  He admitted that he hadn't read a book in ages, and accepted his copy with enthusiasm.  As you can see, the readers dug right in.  But that guy was my fave.

Okay, the next stop on my agenda was another awesome independent bookstore, Book Passage in the Ferry Building.  This is, of course, a commuter hub on San Francisco's Embarcadero.  I was running over there to hear Maria Semple, the author of Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, speak.  As regular readers of this blog know, it made my top 10 list last year.  What a fantastic and funny novel!  The event was already underway when I arrived, and I was somewhat amused/horrified to see that of the two dozen fans present, 100% of them were women.  Gentlemen, you are missing out on some great fiction. 

Okay, so I was late, but I captured most of the Q & A.  Yes, the footage sucks.  My FlipCam has no focus, and I was at the back.  Sorry.  But what you really need to know is this:  There are serious spoilers for the novel discussed on this video.  This is the paperback tour, and Ms. Semple didn't hold back.  I suspect most of us had already read the book.  Anyway, the conversation is great and worth checking out, but you are forewarned.  Enjoy!





There was no time to rest. As the event ended, I charged out into the Ferry Building and handed out several books to commuters and diners there. My next stop was to backtrack downtown to the Metreon Center. If it hadn't been such a literary night, I might have been attending an advance screening of the film The Big Wedding. Moments after I arrived, the publicists announced that the theater's seats were all filled and sent the rest of the people home. But you know what consoles women thwarted from seeing a free chick flick?  A free romance novel!  More books were handed out.

Okay, from downtown to North Beach and another independent bookstore!  This time, it was to the

world famous City Lights Bookstore.  Joyce Carol Oates was reading from and signing The Accursed.  Okay, I haven't read it, and have no intention of reading it, but I was meeting my friends Rina and Jacob there, and they're big fans.  I've read and enjoyed Ms. Oates short stories.  Why wouldn't I want to hear her speak?  And I did get to hear her--but not see her.  City Lights was packed!  I was stuck in the back corridor, listening and Tweeting about the shelves of books all around me.  It was okay.  My ears work fine.  And once the Q & A was over, I joined Rina and Jacob in the signing line.  I even took a couple of Rina's books to get signed, and Ms. Oates was friendly and lovely.  We had a very nice chat about this truly fabulous blouse she's wearing.  (Says she's not great with fashion, and that it was a gift.)

North Beach is, of course, a very touristy neighborhood, and a couple more books were handed out there.  By then it was late, and I'd literally been from one end of San Francisco to the other.  I'd worked pretty hard in the course of my book-giving and literature-appreciating.  So, when Rina and Jacob suggested a late dinner in Chinatown, how could I resist?  They introduced me to the Bund Shanghai Restaurant.  OMG, yum!  And bless Rina and Jacob for driving me home.

World Book Night was so much fun!  Yes, even as passionate book-giver as I am, it's a little embarrassing to go up to strangers and offer them an unsolicited romance novel or to make loud announcements on public transportation, but it's totally worth it!  Seriously, so many people were so thrilled to receive a book.  This is a wonderful literacy program, and I'm delighted to have participated.  I look forward to doing so for many years to come.  Many thanks to World Book Night US and all of the participating publishers and authors who donated half a million books to be given away free!

Patient readers will be rewarded

Garden of Stones
by Sophie Littlefield

Sophie Littlefield’s latest novel, Garden of Stones, opens in San Francisco in 1978. The first chapter anticipates the murder of an old man. The second chapter introduces Patty Takeda and her mother Lucy. Patty, visiting her mother in the days leading up to her (Patty’s) wedding, wakes to find Lucy having an early morning chat with a police inspector. Lucy is being questioned because she knew the victim decades prior, and neighborhood residents placed her at the scene. With her horrible facial scaring, she’s hard to miss. The third chapter is where the novel’s structure becomes apparent. It flashes us back to the Los Angeles of 1941.

Having just met the caustic older Lucy, we are now introduced to the stunningly beautiful adolescent version. This privileged young girl is about to suffer a series of blows leading up to the United States’ entry into the war. Her Japanese heritage is suddenly a huge liability. From there, the novel moves back and forth in time between the events of 1978 and those in the 1940’s—with the bulk of the tale occurring in the past. Lucy is sent to the Manzanar internment camp, along with her family, friends, and neighbors. It is events that occurred at Manzanar that directly cultivated the woman Lucy was to become—and perhaps to the murder that has occurred.

Now, I have been a fan of Ms. Littlefield’s for years, and I love the sheer breadth and depth of what she writes from comic mysteries to zombie apocalypses. The set-up above seems like another mystery, but truthfully, it’s more of a historic drama. The subject of Japanese internment strikes close to home to me—literally—having spent the past decade living a block from San Francisco’s Japantown. My neighborhood was greatly impacted by this shameful period of California’s history. I think fiction can be a powerful medium for evoking history. Through fiction, stories live on and are humanized.

I also think that a lot of research went into this novel, and yet I felt somewhat frustrated by viewing this history through the eyes of an unsophisticated teenage girl. Those flashback sections of the novel had something of a YA feel about them. Now, I have nothing against young adult fiction—I read a ton of it—but here I was hungering for a little more…detail …maturity … substance. That would be my complaint.

That said, I found myself very caught up in the story of these characters. Littlefield writes, “It was as if her mother had once been an entirely different person, and Patty faulted herself for never having seen far enough into her depths, for not being curious enough to coax out the story until now.” Lucy Takeda lived an extraordinary life in a period of great historic significance. As events led up to what felt like a climax, I realized that I was only at the center of the tale. As Lucy matured, I became more and more invested in her story. The frustration I’d felt earlier in the novel disappeared. Character development has always been Ms. Littlefield’s strength, and that is again the case here. Still, by the time I’d reached the novel’s end, she managed to truly surprise me with a couple of unexpected plot twists. One, in particular, was really cleverly done.

Ultimately, the murder that opens this novel is little more than a framing device, but as such it works well. Garden of Stones is a great choice for readers interested in mother-daughter relationships, or who are simply looking for a great story set against a historic backdrop. While it took me a little while to become fully invested in the tale, the deeper I read, the more I enjoyed this novel.

Matt Richtel knows how to hook readers...

The Cloud
by Matt Richtel

…The openings of his novels are always grabbers. In The Cloud, protagonist Nat Idle is waiting to catch a late-night train when an enormous drunken man staggers into him. They both crash to the ground, with Nat very nearly thrown to the tracks in front of an oncoming train. A near-death experience instead becomes a nasty crack on the head, and a kind passerby rushes to assist. The drunk takes off, with a paper falling from his pocket as he exits. Nat’s ready to write the incident off, grateful to have gotten off relatively lightly—until he picks up the paper the man dropped. His name is on it. This was no accident.

That is merely the beginning of another of Idle’s investigative adventures. For a medical journalist and blogger, he does seem to become embroiled in some dark stuff. This story involves a technology designed to help kids learn to multi-task that may be causing a far more serious side effect. And yet, as intense of the plots of these novels are, at their heart they are character-driven, and none more so than this latest installment. Character absolutely drives plot, but in this case, prior knowledge of the character from his debut in Hooked or Devil’s Plaything would be helpful. Nat sustains a head injury in that opening scene. It affects him. He’s not himself, and I think that will be appreciated more by readers acquainted with the character. Nat’s funny, friendly, flawed, and fallible. He’ll go after a story like no one’s business. But in The Cloud, he’s altered. And he’s something of an unreliable narrator, which makes an already convoluted mystery that much more mysterious.

Mr. Richtel, incidentally, is also a journalist. By day, he writes about technology for the New York Times. He, in fact, won a Pulitzer Prize for doing so a few years ago. My point is, the man can write. His prose has an effortless readability, a sense of fun, and frequently rises above what one expects to find in a thriller. The novel moves swiftly, as events take place over the course of just a few virtually sleepless days. Furthermore, by the time all is revealed, the elegance and intricacy of the novel’s plot will become apparent. Oh, I had suspicions along the way. Some were right, many were wrong. But once I knew the truth, it was all so clear. The clues were salted everywhere.

Richtel didn’t learn about character development, pacing, and plot on the day job. I’m not sure where he learned the tools of his trade, because in this novel especially, he eschews literary convention while at the same time embracing certain genre tropes, for instance a beautiful and mysterious woman straight out of a detective noir. Tropes are tropes for a reason, and Richtel has his fun. But it’s where he diverges from convention, notably with this novel’s conclusion, that things get really interesting. I can’t discuss the choices made without spoilers, so I’ll simply say that Mr. Richtel wrapped up his mystery in a way that was unexpected, unconventional, sophisticated, and satisfying.

And aside from solving the mystery, Mr. Richtel has taken his protagonist into uncharted territory. The tale comes to a complete conclusion with no annoying cliff-hangers, but Nat evolves so much (and so believably) in this novel that I’m now consumed with knowing what the next chapter in his life will bring.

NOTE: For local San Francisco readers, Matt will be appearing along with novelist Sophie Littlefield at the SF in SF literary series on Saturday, February 9, 2013 at 7:00pm.  Please join me there!

So, you say you can't get enough Christopher Moore?

Well, then, today is your lucky day. Today, his latest novel, Sacre Bleu, goes on sale in trade paperback. Personally, I loved this book. You can read my review here. But rather than hear more from me, I can let you hear from the man himself.

I videotaped Chris at two of his book tour stops for this novel last spring, the first and the last. It was interesting to compare and contrast the polished and unpolished versions of his material and, frankly, his state of mind at the beginning and ending of a long, grueling tour. Chris had asked me to hold off posting this video until the end of the tour and... somehow it never happened. My bad.

Starting with the video at the top of this post, and then going down in order below, is the video of the first tour stop, held at the Books, Inc., Opera Plaza in San Francisco. I have to admit I like the spontaneity of that first night better. No, everything he says doesn't make sense, but egads, the man is funny. He speaks bluntly! He insulsults Kansans! He lectures on art history! He gives prizes!

As you can see, the store is hugely crowded. SRO. So, my shooting and footage isn't the best, but if you're a regular to this blog, you're used to that. Sorry about the heads in the way, but it's good enough.

Of special note is the long final video segment below. The first couple minutes are the end of the Q & A, but after that is about 14 minutes of Chris giving out prizes to the audience. There's lot's of interaction. It's totally spontaneous. He plays "Rock, Paper, Scissors" with the entire audience! It's just a lot of fun and I'm really glad I taped it.

For all the folks who have never had the pleasure of seeing Chris live, I hope you have as much fun watching as we did in the audience. And let me know in the comments if you want me to post the end of tour footage at some later date.

“There are no free stories in the secret library of the Unbroken Spine.”

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore
by Robin Sloan

What is it that bibliophiles everywhere love to read about? That’s right; all things bookish! Debut novelist Robin Sloan uses this insight to great effect in Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. It’s guaranteed to charm any just about any book lover. As for me, I just want to quote from it at length. There were so many delicious passages!

The novel is told from the first-person perspective of 20-something San Franciscan Clay Jannon. Laid off from his corporate design job and desperate for work, Clay takes the graveyard shift at this most unusual bookstore:

“Penumbra sells used books, and they are in such uniformly excellent condition that they might as well be new. He buys them during the day—you can only sell to the man with his name on the window—and he must be a tough customer. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to bestseller lists. His inventory is eclectic; there’s no evidence of pattern or purpose other than, I suppose, his own personal taste. So, no teenage wizards or vampire police here. That’s a shame, because this is exactly the kind of store that makes you want to buy a book about a teenage wizard. This is the kind of store that makes you want to be a teenage wizard.”

I totally know that store. Penumbra’s however, is quirkier than most. For starters, they hardly ever sell any books. But there’s a bizarre collection of secret books that are not sold, but lent to a select clientele. And Penumbra has very specific rules regarding these dealings. Sloan’s novel begins as Clay’s quest to understand the mysteries of his new workplace, and it expands exponentially from there. It involves a 500-year search for arcane knowledge, a series of trippy fantasy novels, and what Clay recons is a cult that “seems like it might have been designed specifically to prey on bookish old people—Scientology for scholarly seniors.”

Despite the readerly trappings, this novel and the characters within are Silicon Valley savvy. Well, some of them are; it’s generational. Clay’s love interest, Kat, is employed by Google, and that company plays a significant role in the proceedings:

“Kat gushes about Google’s projects, all revealed to her now. They are making a 3-D web browser. They are making a car that drives itself. They are making a sushi search engine—here she pokes a chopstick down at our dinner—to help people find fish that is sustainable and mercury-free. They are building a time machine. They are developing a form of renewable energy that runs on hubris.”

Elsewhere there is talk of e-readers. When the bookstore’s customers disappear, Clay wonders if they’ve all bought Kindles: “I have one, and I use it most nights. I always imagine the books staring and whispering, Traitor!—but come on, I have a lot of free first chapters to get through.”

If you haven’t picked up on this yet, the humor of this novel really tickled me. It goes without saying that I loved the San Francisco setting. (Says Mr. Penumbra, “This city of ours—it has taken me too long to realize it, but we are in the Venice of this world. The Venice.” Amen, brother!) Yes, Clay and his friends seemed very, very young to me (When did I get this middle-aged?), but that didn’t stop me from warming to the clever and quirky cast of characters that Sloan has created.

I would think this book would appeal to Jasper Fforde fans. Sloan’s novel is not a fantasy, and is therefore somewhat more in keeping with reality as we know it, but still, his is a heightened and more literate reality. In Sloan’s world, you could walk into this bar:

“There’s a stack of books on the table and a metal cup with pointy pencils that smell fresh and sharp. In the stack, there are copies of Moby-Dick, Ulysses, The Invisible Man—this is a bar for bibliophiles.”

That’s a world that I was oh-so-happy to spend time in! I was, in fact, sorry to leave. Mr. Sloan, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.

An idle mind is the devil’s plaything

Devil's Plaything
by Matt Richtel

I first met Nat Idle when he appeared in Matt Richtel’s debut novel, Hooked. At the time, he won me over completely. It wasn’t merely that he was a likable, charming guy, it was that he exhibited my very favorite characteristic in a hero—fallibility. He wasn’t a superman. He was just an average guy doing the best he could under extraordinary circumstances. Nat narrates, “As a tough guy, I’m way out of my league; I’m a pen-wielding freelance writer, not James Bond, or James Dean; maybe James Taylor.”

And, at long last, he’s back. Let me start by saying that you don’t need to have read Hooked before reading Devil’s Plaything. Each book stands alone just fine. In this latest thriller, Nat has a buddy, and it’s not who you’d expect. His cohort in this misadventure is his elderly grandmother, Lane, with whom he has always been close. Lane, alas, has taken a turn for the worse. She is suffering dementia, but in recent weeks her decline has been precipitous. Nat realizes he really must spend more time with her, and it is on an outing to Golden Gate Park that the action begins.

While enjoying a leisurely sunset stroll, suddenly shots ring out, and Nat and Lane appear to be the targets. Well, Nat appears to be. Not everyone appreciates his occasional forays into investigative journalism. What could anyone have against a sweet octogenarian? What indeed? As this complex tale unfolds, Richtel seeds the book with any number of suspicious characters and red herrings. What is the deal with the high-strung manager of Lane’s assisted living facility? What is the secret from back in WWII that his grandmother has been keeping all these years? Who is “the blue man”? Why is Lane afraid of visiting the dentist? What is the story behind the Human Memory Crusade in which she’s been participating? And what is going on on Nat’s side of this mystery… What is his boss up to? Who is the mysterious investor Nat dubs “G.I. Chuck”? Who has delivered an encrypted thumb drive to him? Why? What does it say?

These are a lot of questions, and if the novel has a flaw, it’s just the sheer business of the plot. There are so many potential bad guys that, like Nat, you won’t know where to look next for answers. You will share some of his frustration, confusion, and paranoia. He asks, “Does the thumb drive have anything to do with the attack in the park and Grandma’s recent ramblings? Or is it coincidental, unrelated, some kind of joke?”

The pleasures of the novel, however, more than make up for any flaws. For starters, it’s a darn good mystery. I couldn’t unravel it on my own, and I seem to figure these things out all too often. It was nice being challenged. The story being told here is different; and as with his first novel, the plot veers off in unexpected directions, keeping readers on their toes. The relationship at the center of this novel isn’t typical, and it has a lot of heart. Both Nat and Lane are richly-drawn and appealing characters. And in addition to, you know, the fear and paranoia, there’s a lot of humor leavening the proceedings. San Francisco, where I live and the novel is set, takes more than a few pot shots: “I almost laugh at the idea of our nearly quintessential San Francisco death: gunned down by the driver of an environmentally friendly car.” “In San Francisco, you can get grief for carrying an obsolete gadget without a permit.” “The collective angst of several dozen drivers already frustrated by life’s deep unfairness—traffic, the Bay Area cost of living, the fact that they don’t yet own an iPad…”

Nat’s a witty guy, and it’s a lot of fun taking up space inside his head. He’s also a canny observer of the times we live in, and I have to credit the smart writing of his creator and counterpart, author Richtel. Matt Richtel not only shares a very similar name as his protagonist, but also the same day job—though he’s a considerably more successful journalist, having won a Pulitzer Prize writing for the New York Times a year ago. The man knows his way around a page and it shows. Looking ahead, I hope that Richtel can continue to find time for both fiction and non-fiction because clearly he excels at both.

NOTE:  This novel will be released in hardback from the Poisoned Pen Press on May 3, 2011.  For Readers who prefer to wait for the paperback, I'm pleased to tell you that you don't have to wait long.  The mass market paperback will be released by HarperCollins on May 31, 2011.  This is likewise the release date for the Kindle (and other e-book) editions of the novel.  So, pick your format, pre-order now, and you've got your first beach read of the summer lined up!

When Andy met Susie

So, earlier this week in my Mailbox Monday post, I mentioned purchasing a long-overdue replacement of my copy of Andrew Sean Greer's The Story of a Marriage, and I told you that I'd write about how the two of us met...

Google is an amazing thing.  At the click of a mouse, it tells me that Andy and I met on July 19, 2002, because that is when the San Francisco Symphony presented a staged concert performance of Leonard Bernstein's Candide.  It was a not-to-be-missed event, starring George Hearn, Jason Danieley, Jennifer Welch-Babidge, Keith Phares, Rita Moreno, Marin Mazzie, and Stanford Olsen.  I was still new to San Francisco, in town less than six months, so I grabbed a cheap ticket and went by myself.  As it happened, I was seated next to an adorable young man who was also there by himself.  You got it; it was Andy.


Me and Weasel, back when I could still afford haircuts.

 I don't remember exactly how our conversation started, or who made the first overture, but we had a lovely discussion through the first intermission.  Along the way we discovered that he was a writer, and I was an editor.  (I think he was working on some catalog copy, at the time, to pay the rent.  I was probably temping.)  We discovered that we are from the same town in Maryland.  Small world!  Also, we enjoyed some of the same authors.  You know, this is just now coming back to me...  I'd been with Christopher Moore earlier that same day; in fact, I think I had an early dinner with him and Chuck and some booksellers.  I'm guessing by the date that we may have hooked up at San Francisco's Books by the Bay, because Chris and Chuck weren't living in SF at the time.  And if so, this is exactly what I looked like, because either Chris or Chuck took this photo on that day.

Anyway, the young man and I had started the most delightful conversation during the first intermission, and at some point in the second intermission, I suddenly remembered my manners.  I said, "I'm Susan, by the way."  And he said, "I'm Andy."  Right then, some distant synapse fired.  I'm still not sure how I made the connection, but I looked at him and slowly said, "Andrew Sean Greer.  I bought The Path of Minor Planets ten days ago."  And I had.  Let me back up.

Several weeks earlier, I had attended a literary event at the San Francisco Public Library.  It was to be a reading and a discussion of the short story between Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, Michael Chabon; editor of the Chronicle's books section, Oscar Villalon; and some guy no one had ever heard of, Andrew Sean Greer.  On the day of the event, the theater was packed, and I can guarantee you that 95% of the people were there to see Michael Chabon.  The Pulitzer was still shiny and new at that point.  So, we're all waiting and waiting for this event to start, but there seems to be some sort of delay.  I can't remember how late it was, or how many stalling announcements were made, but eventually it became clear that Chabon wasn't there, and no one could find him!  Finally, Villalon and this brave unknown guy came out on their own, and Michael never did show up that night.  It turned out later it was some sort of major scheduling SNAFU.  So, Andrew Sean Greer read an entire story from his debut collection, How It Was For Me.  It was a good story, and he read it well.

Then he sat down for a most enjoyable conversation with Oscar Villalon, and surely got more attention than he was ever expecting on that particular evening.  In addition to discussing short stories, Andy mentioned his debut novel, The Path of Minor Planets.  And two things must have happened that night:  He impressed me, and the title stuck in my head.  Because weeks later when I saw a nice hardback copy at Green Apple Books, I bought it. 

I hadn't yet had a chance to read it that evening at the Symphony, but just then, all the pieces came together.  I said his name and the title of his novel and Andy's mouth dropped open.  That was the first time he'd ever been recognized in public.  I probably would have figured it out sooner, but between the reading and the night we met, he'd cut off his beautiful blonde curls.  (Ladies, he had hair that you just wanted to run your fingers through!  In fact, I think I did just that some time later when the curls briefly resurfaced.  They haven't been seen since.)  Then I'd told him that I'd been at the "Chabon" event, and got the full scoop on what went down that evening. As it happens, Michael felt so badly about the SNAFU that he and Ayelet had Andy over for dinner to apologize, and they've been good friends ever since.  I also knew Michael Chabon well enough to say "hello," so we talked about him, and laughed that all three of us are Marylanders.  A really small world. 

So, Andy and I chatted right through the end of the evening, and we walked out together.  If this were a romantic comedy, we'd have lived happily ever after.  But it's San Francisco, and Andy is very happy with his husband, LOL.  God, it's almost a decade since that night.  Andy was unknown by all but the very geekiest back then (i.e. me).  In the years since, he's written the highly-acclaimed The Confessions of Max Tivoli, an absolutely brilliant book, followed by The Story of a Marriage, his only work I haven't read.  It's been a few years since then, and every time I see him, I ask about the next book.  I'm sure he loves that.

Oh, that's right, we still see each other.  Not socially.  We're not dear old friends.  But we're friendly.  We live in the same city, and travel in bookish circles.  We bump into each other a couple of times each year, there are rare emails, and I'm always greeted with a warm hug.  He's a very nice guy.  And he's one hell of a writer.  If you haven't read him, I urge you to check him out.  Or, if you've read only the later work, do explore the lesser-known early works.  You'll be so glad you did!  As for why I seem to attract novelists to me at all times and places, I simply can't explain it.

As a final treat, I leave you with some video of the night Michael Chabon interviewed Andy for City Arts and Lectures. 

So you say you need a fiction fix?

Today I was approached by San Francisco writer Benjamin Wachs, who handed me a business card. It said:



                                                                                      

Fiction365

A NEW SHORT STORY, EVERY DAY

BENJAMIN WACHS   publisher   BENJAMIN@FICTION365.COM

He explained that it’s a new project that he started at the first of the year. And if you visit the website (http://www.fiction365.com/), you’ll see this:

A SIMPLE PREMISE; A BOLD PROMISE
To present one story per day, every day—providing exceptional
authors with exposure and avid readers with first-rate fiction

Other than that, there’s today’s story, a calendar where you can find previous stories, some basic search tools, and submission info. It’s all pretty basic at this point, but every great idea has to start somewhere.  I asked Benjamin some questions:

ST: “What are you doing to market the site?  How many visitors are you getting?”
BW: “I'm marketing it through word of mouth at this point, but that's all.  I'm expecting to make ad buys and such in a few months.  At that point I'll start tracking metrics like hits."
ST: “Are you getting submissions?”
BW: “Most of the writers who I personally invited to contribute were Bay Area writers, and they make up the vast majority of the stories in my vault—high quality stories I have on hand in case nobody contributes for several weeks. But (much to my surprise) after the first week I've barely had a single day in which I haven't gotten contributions. Most of those submissions are actually from outside the Bay Area, including NYC, Louisiana, Tennessee, Alabama, LA, Chicago, and even points international: England, Canada, Scotland, Romania (!!), and Australia. I've been somewhat blown away by the response to the site, given how little I've done to promote it.  Also, we're serializing a novel; every Sunday is a new chapter from a previously unpublished novel.  Our first one (scheduled to run pretty much through the year) is Chicago writer Darren Callahan's "City of Human Remains." 
ST: “So, you plan to monetize the site eventually?”
BW: “Yeah.”
ST: “Advertising?”
BW: “Yeah.”
ST: “Then you’ll pay the contributors?”
BW: “I’m paying them now. It’s only $10 a story, but that’s a couple of beers.”
ST: “And it’s readership. I know a few writers who might be willing to submit, especially for a bio credit that links to a full-length ebook for sale on Kindle.”
BW: “Exactly. Right now, everything’s coming out of my pocket. Hopefully, I’ll be able to pay more later.”
ST: “Well, this is very cool! Can I blog about it?”

Permission was granted, and here we are. Go check it out and get in on the ground floor as either a reader, a writer, or both!

http://www.fiction365.com/

These Tales never grow old

Mary Ann in Autumn: A Tales of the City Novel
by Armistead Maupin

I'd never been to San Francisco when I read the first five Tales of the City books. Armisted Maupin had created this wacky, wonderful city that seemed as fictional as the setting of any fantasy. I saved book six for my first visit to San Francisco, and once I arrived, I discovered the magical city that Maupin had created was exactly as described. On that first visit to San Francisco, I called my best friend and said, "I'm pulling a Mary Ann." I've been here nearly a decade.

I relate the above to explain that these books have had a fairly significant influence on my life. These characters are dear friends. And at one point I did very much empathize with series protagonist Mary Ann Singleton. Over time, we grew apart. I didn't understand all the choices she had made. Now Mary Ann and I are both a lot older than we were when we first met. After all this time, it is such a pure delight to catch up with her!

Alas, things aren't going so well on her end--on a variety of levels. Robert Frost once said, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." For Mary Ann, that place is San Francisco, with Michael "Mouse" Tolliver. He and his husband Ben don't let her down. In addition to Mary Ann's crises, this novel spends significant time checking in with Michael's business partner, Jake, and Mary Ann's adopted daughter, Shawna. An extra bonus in this novel, for long-time devotees like me, is that one of the plot elements ties back to the very first Tales novel.

I read this novel in no time flat. It was a joy from start to finish! (Oh, and if I weren't blurring the lines between fact and fiction enough already, a real life acquaintance of mine makes a cameo appearance in the book! That's a first.) Armisted Maupin makes what he does look so easy, almost as if he's channeling the members of this non-traditional family. (The "logical family" as opposed to the biological family, as Anna Madrigal would say.) He imbues his tales with such humor and such heart. The stories are completely over the top, yet grounded in an emotional reality. No one does this better.

Armisted, I am so grateful that you're again telling tales of the city. I hope to visit with these friends for many years to come.

Timeless—or perhaps timely—Tales of my City

Michael Tolliver Lives
by Armisted Maupin

I won’t go as far as to claim that Armisted Maupin’s Tales of the City books are the reason I upended my life and moved to San Francisco eight years ago—but they were surely a factor. Maupin captures the spirit of San Francisco like no one else, and his books are truly dear to me. Several years ago, in a tremendous act of willpower, I tucked away Michael Tolliver Lives for a “rainy day.” That day, of course, has come, and it’s such a comfort to visit with these old friends.

Like myself, they are older. Michael “Mouse” Tolliver is in his mid-fifties and Anna Madrigal is eighty-five! In the pages of the book we get updates on all of our beloved former Barbary Lane denizens, but as the title suggests, this is really Michael’s show.

Like his creator, he is now married (legally) to a much younger man, and is living with HIV—an eventuality he’d never considered years ago when AIDS was a death sentence. As for further details of the plot, they’re essentially irrelevant. This book is all about character. And Maupin’s insight into these people is just as deep—and as deeply affectionate as it ever was.

Now, clearly I’m a hard-core fan, and reading this book gave me great joy at a time when I badly needed it. That said, this latest volume is not a favorite. Perhaps because Michael’s life so closely mirror’s Maupin’s, I felt like parts of this book smacked of self-justification. Also, and this isn’t exactly a complaint, but this book seemed a lot more gay than I remember the rest of the series being. Or rather, more graphically and explicitly gay. I don’t really care, but readers who aren’t fairly open-minded might not want to go there. I’m pretty open-minded, and I could have done with just a bit less detail.

Small complaints aside, I was thrilled to reconnect with these dear friends and discover I loved them as much as I ever had. Maupin is a magical writer with boundless heart. I will read absolutely anything he writes. Happily, I won’t have to wait quite so long for my next visit. Mary Ann in Autumn, a Tales of the City novel, will be published in November!