Category Archives: Uncategorized

End-of-Year Roundup!

Whew! 2019 was a heckuva decade. Good thing I had some books around to read. Here are my favorite books that *I* read this year (not that came out this year).

It’s hard for me to find time to read. I have a job. Two kids. A side hustle. Three kids, actually, if you count my husband. So I decided to read 15 minutes a day. That’s not a lot, and indeed, by the end of 2019, I’d finished 12 books. Not bad, but not great. Still, that number would be higher if I hadn’t read “11/22/63” by Stephen King, which is quite thick. Would I make that decision again? Yeah, no.

What I read this year: Finally, “Beloved.” I know. In retrospect, I tried reading Toni Morrison when I was far too young — her books were all over our house. I didn’t understand it and I put her down for, like, decades. After she died this year, I decided that the best way to honor her memory was to get with the program. I know that when Morrison died, there was conversation about her place in American literary history, not just black American literary history. But this book is about slavery, which is a pretty American thing. I cannot imagine the process of researching this book, it’s that devastating. But you probably knew that. This book uses language to make imagery better than just about anything I have ever read. It was beautiful, disquieting, scary, fever-dreamy and why hasn’t Jordan Peele remade this yet?

“The War of Art” by Stephen Pressman: Sometimes, I find it hard to sit down and write. It’s frustrating sometimes because the words don’t come out the way you want. It makes you think you’re no good. Why am I doing this anyway? Why am I having trouble finishing projects? How can I find the time to write? If you’ve ever had these issues (and not just with writing — anything you want to do and are not actively doing), I’d recommend this book. Pressman was a failed writer before he was a successful one, and he learned about success via the scenic route. He shares what he saw in straightforward fashion — that the one thing keeping all of us from achieving our goals is resistance. He outlines some ideas about how to tame that resistance. This book is worth noting because it changed my writing routine forever. It’s short and the chapter entitled “Fear” has never really left me.

“Deep Work” by Cal Newport and “How to Break Up With Your Phone” by Catherine Price: I did not intend to read these books at the same time, but it was perfect timing that I did. “Deep Work” is about the anticipated need for businesses and organizations for people who can develop valuable skills and what’s required to do that — long periods of intense concentration. Price’s book is part research paper (phone screens can give your brain the signal that it should be awake, even at night. For real.) and part step-by-step process on how to restructure your relationship with your phone, beyond checking social media obsessively. Newport would take it a step further:



Yeah, in this, the year of our Lord 2020. But this is a leap I’m thinking more and more about taking because of both these books.

I’ve mentioned “Queen of the Night” by Alexander Chee before, and of all the books I read this year, I was most blown away by this one. I can’t remember the last time I was so stressed reading a book. Like Morrison, the depth of research about the time in which Chee is writing makes this book more like an experience. My goodness. Nothing more, y’honor.

What I listened to this year: “In the Dark” from American Public Media. “In the Dark” is the investigative powerhouse people think “Serial” was. (It wasn’t, as anyone who has ever read/watched/listened to additional information about the Adnan Syed case will tell you. The first season of “Serial” was great writing, but most of it isn’t actually accurate …?)

The third “In the Dark” season actually began in 2018, but the team’s investigation actually sparked further episodes — and led to further legal developments in the following year. Spoiler alert (how are you not listening to this podcast, though?): Curtis Flowers’ conviction was overturned by the U.S. Supreme Court and he was just recently freed on bail. At the bail hearing, Flowers’ lawyer literally played the podcast for the judge. Had to be the best of 2019 and 2018.

I might have promised to expand my podcast world last year and listen to more than true crime, but I definitely did not do that. For example, “Hit Man,” which is an entire season based on a story told in an episode of “Criminal” I listened to once, about a man who was hired to murder a woman, her son and her son’s nurse. He did this by following a hit man instruction manual. This podcast looks into the crime itself, but also the history of the book, and the host managed to find the identity of the book’s author, which had been elusive for years. Now, what host Jasmyn Morris does with this information is … not what you’d expect.

And then there’s “Murder in Oregon” (I know, this makes me sound really bad). But this podcast, while not as well-produced as anything from Wondery, is one heckuva story. So basically, a little over 30 years ago, state government officials apparently murdered the new Department of Corrections chief, Michael Francke, because he was about to blow the hell out of a nearby whistle. Then they framed another dude while failing to investigate the probable real killer, all while those who knew the real killer were saying, “Yeah, he’s the killer.” The government officials were criminals themselves in willllld ways that were mostly covered up by the state newspaper THE OREGONIAN. Hello! It’s a journey. Listen to it!

Honorable mentions for this year: “Running from COPS,” “1619” (also please read the accompanying New York Times section) “The Catch and Kill Podcast,” “Startup” (which is an older podcast, but one I recently discovered), “Slow Burn’s” third season about the murders of Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G.), “Crimetown’s” latest season about corruption in Detroit, the third season of “Accused,” (which is underway and is already pretty insane) and “Bundyville: The Remnant.”

The Roundup: The 1619 Project and Ms. Morrison

The thing that annoys me the most about the conversations around reparations (and there are other, minor annoyances, believe me) is that the talk remains centered around money and property. When I read Ta-nehesi Coates’ essay for The Atlantic “A Case for Reparations” — and if you are a resident of America and haven’t read this yet, just open another tab and do so now, please — it led me to the reparations legislation that John Conyers had been trying to pass every year for at least 25 years. It’s known as HB 40, and when I read that, I realized that education is a key part of it as well.

Reparations means almost nothing without education, and an understanding of what this country is truly built upon. Part of the reason white nationalism and white supremacy remains today is because in school, the brutality of slavery and all of its other offshoots rooted in racism is largely avoided. So there is this room in the classroom for a student to walk out thinking that the Civil War was about “states’ rights.” There’s room for adults in the year of our Lord 2019 who chant “Send her back” and advocate for separating different families in similar cruel ways yet again in our history with no trace of irony.

So that’s why I’ll be spending time this weekend getting acquainted with the New York Times’ The 1619 Project. It’s an effort to show how the effects of slavery touches every part of what America is today. This is where an honest conversation about reparations begins — with what actually happened and how it frames what’s happening today. The New York Times can have my money on this one.

What I’m Reading

Toni Morrison, of course. I remember when I was about 13 years old, and being the advanced reader I was, ran across a Toni Morrison book — I want to say it was “Song of Solomon” — and cracked it open. I was too young — I didn’t understand it, although I knew it to be beautiful writing, even then.

When she died last week, I was sad, but she lived a good, full life. My dad also died this year and he was a writer. I’m not trying to claim he was on the Toni Morrison level, but I do understand a little more the importance of leaving a bit of yourself behind, and that’s what she did. So if I want to remember her influence on telling the stories of black women without blinking, then I have her books. Farewell, Toni. I mean, Ms. Morrison.

(Did you all know that she wrote children’s books as well? I didn’t, but now my kids know. “Peeny Butter Fudge” is pretty deep for a children’s book.)

What I’m Reading, Part II

Have you ever panicked because you haven’t had a good book to read, even with all the books you own that you haven’t read? Have you ever gone to your library’s website to solve this “problem,” only to find the book you want is unavailable? Then you go down the list of all the books you want and finally — paydirt — there’s one.

Then, the first one you put a hold on is waiting at the library for you. The second one. Now, you’ve got two weeks to read all of this:

In my ears

So I did a quick drive to Atlanta and back recently to do some clearing-out work at my dad’s house, and came across the newest season of Crimetown. The first season was about the generations of corruption in Providence, Rhode Island. This year is a deep dive into Detroit. I am not from Detroit, nor have I ever been there, and I was thoroughly fascinated by this series. I also want to say that I don’t know what it is about Marc Smerling and Zac Stuart-Pontier that they get the interviews that make these stories pop (such as Kwame Kilpatrick and his entire family and his mistress. You might also recall their involvement on HBO’s “The Jinx,” which culminated in Robert Durst croaking out something that might have been a confession.

What’s great about this podcast is that it could be lazy and still be quite popular. Who doesn’t love consuming stories about crime, right? But this show is not lazy. It takes its time telling the stories of all these characters, especially Kilpatrick, the former mayor, so that it isn’t so easy to label them criminals or “bad guys.” You don’t just become a criminal. It’s a process and that’s far more fascinating to listen to than limiting the story to the criminal acts. If you’re stuck in a car for seven hours, this podcast is a pretty good way to spend it.

The Roundup: I Almost Didn’t Make it to the End of ‘Queen of the Night’

It took a few months, but I finally finished Alexander Chee’s “Queen of the Night” and it was worth every penny of that overdue penalty from the library.

OK, seriously, I have never read a book that had me so anxious at the end. I realized I was holding my breath! No spoilers I guess, but … never mind

**SPOILER**

Lilliet is my homegirl! When she attacked and killed the tenor, I was like, “Is this a dream sequence? She doesn’t have it in her!” Then I was like, “If she did this, she definitely didn’t do it right.” When I realized she offed the dude and did it right (for the most part — that stinkin’ maid), I decided that she was going right up to the top of list of my literary character hero list. (Which I guess I’m now going to have to do.) Whew! I was pissed that she lost her man, but I think it’s safe to say she liked him more than he liked her. Honestly, Aristafeo was straight trash.

**SPOILER OVER**

I think I’ve noted I don’t normally like Victorian-era books, but once this one got clicking, I couldn’t put it down and I’ve been thinking about why that is. If you’re a writer, you’re creating worlds and to take the reader with you, you have to get granular, so specific. That’s what Chee did, and the way he injects historical figures and events works beautifully because Lilliet is so fully formed that you’re experiencing this life with her. But you have to be thorough. I know in my fiction writing, I have a tendency to sneak past the stuff I think is boring, but it’s atmosphere and it makes your worlds pop up off the page. It’s been a while since a story has done that to me and it makes me want to do it for my work.

In my ears

When I was just out of college and living by myself, I would fall asleep to episode of “Forensic Files” or something similar and that is just weird, right? To be soothed by stories of crime? Now I do it with podcasts, too, and it is so odd. There was a time when I’d listen to any content involving a real crime. It could be listening to Crime Writers On (the best podcast critics’ show out there right now) that’s got me a bit more discerning. But I listened to one in the last couple of weeks that I had to turn off.

It’s called 22 Hours: An American Nightmare, and it’s a case about a family and their housekeeper that was kidnapped, terrorized and killed. They were found in their burned out home. So I have a theory about podcasts, and it’s that broadcast reporters/companies are the worst at podcasts. It makes sense — they focus on showing you something with their stories, with your eyes. It doesn’t often translate to radio or print. This podcast is trying to be true crime, hardboiled and Serial all at the same time, and if you want to talk about a face plant, well, here you are. I only allow myself to cringe over something I’m listening to in a podcast for two minutes and then I realize it must not be for me.

The exact moment that did it for me was when the host, whose name I won’t even bother to go look up, talks about how emotionally challenging it was for her to report on this story when it first happened, then played some audio of her talking about how hard it was to her producer. Less than a minute later, they open up a box of evidence and the mood is … much lighter. Someone does that fake suspense music — you know, “dunt dunt DUNNNNN!”

I turned it off.

One other thing that I am not turning off is the Mueller Report Audio. My brother told me about this, because obviously, I did want to read the report, but was short on time. I guess I understand why special counsel Robert Mueller is being asked to testify before Congress (on this very day!), but listening to this report, it is damning enough — and it’s redacted! So far, my favorite part is Donald Trump telling Chris Christie that because he fired Michael Flynn, the whole “Russia thing” was over with and Christie responding with, basically, “yeah no.”

Comedy gold. And yet, also terrible.

The Roundup: The West Wing, Alexander Chee and a Journalist’s Role

It’s time to dust this blog off!

Looking back at my previous entries, it looks like I dropped off “The West Wing.” I had been watching it, but man, between the 9/11 episode to start the third season and Mrs. Landingham dying at the end of season 2, I needed a break. I was watching WW to distract me from the real actual West Wing of the White House right now. But now that this current administration has amped up the crazy to noxious levels, I thought it was time to go back, and I am pleased to report that I completed the third season over a long weekend. A couple key points:

  1. CJ is just my homey. She might be the only woman character that Aaron Sorkin has ever made to seem like an actual woman you might meet.
  2. There are some shows that don’t intend to be dated. I think “The West Wing” is one of them. But there is no surer sign of a 90s/early aughts network television show than Mark Harmon showing up in a guest romantic role. I’m still mad about him assisting in the final ruination of “Moonlighting.” I didn’t even feel bad about how dirty he got done in the last episode.

I’ll probably start season 4 this week. I guess I do have a small question about how Josh is dating a lobbyist who immediately takes their pillow talk and then tries to thwart the administration’s plans. It seems like that should be more than the minor annoyance it appears to be in the third season. Part of me was also blaming Sorkin for how Mary-Louise Parker’s character comes across, but yeah, I actually never liked “Weeds” because of her, too.

In my ears

I’m a bit of a podcast junkie, and I was able to fashion a reasoned article out of the rage haze I saw when I completed the Broken Harts podcast. Thanks to Galen over at Bello Collective for calming me down enough to write this critique, and for suggesting I contact the team at In the Dark, because I got quotes from Samara Freemark! (You have listened to In the Dark, yes?)

I’ve developed something of a reputation among family and friend for (often unsolicited) podcast recommendations that match virtually any conversation. I thought I’d start sharing what I’m listening to and why.

Anyone who knows me knows that my only consistent habit during the work week is listening to The Daily. If you want to learn something new, you listen to this podcast. Sometimes it’s stuff you’re interested and sometimes it’s just stuff you just now realized you were interested in. Usually, The Daily can do no wrong to my ears.

Usually.

This week, they did a series about how democracy is working across Europe, especially with the strength of the European Union under threat.

This team went to France, Italy, Poland and Germany to take a look at democratic countries with populaces in distress. Many are seemingly disillusioned with “liberal democracy” (air quotes because I don’t think that’s a thing) and are tiptoeing towards support for nationalists. In Poland, it’s already there, and that’s the strongest episode. It had everything: Two brothers divided — one goes into politics and the other journalism, and a widow running for office after the assassination of her husband.

**(SPOILER) When reporter Kathrin Bennhold says that someone from the government came in to change the editorial direction of the paper the one brother worked for, did anyone else feel that second of dread, knowing it was definitely his own brother coming to strong-arm him?**

Anyway, I waited for the whole series for someone to make two points here: First, a lot of people in the U.S. thought it was a good idea to vote for the current president because of economic anxiety. I kept waiting for someone to say, “SOUNDS FAMILIAR, GUYS?!” Which was not the point. I know this.

Second, these European far-right candidates are taking that economic discomfort and mixing in casual xenophobia and baking it into this nice cake whose decoration reads: “Let’s get rid of the immigrants and everything will be fine!” Which is their choice, no matter how repugnant. But this begs the question of whose job it is to present facts here. Sure, opposing candidates can disprove the right’s talking points on immigration with facts in a debate setting, or an interview. But in this man-on-the-street situation, shouldn’t journalists do this, too? That was the most frustrating part of this series. Do you let these people onto your air blaming immigrants for their lots in life without fact-checking them? It’s not a journalist’s job to dissuade them, but to let them wade around in false information without at least telling them there’s different information out there? That feels wrong and lazy. But that’s the corner journalism has painted itself into now — at least here. It’s so obsessed with giving both sides a forum that outright white nationalists can stand on the same stage with serious minds with no qualification.

On the queue for this week: A new podcast from Barnes & Noble about Stephen King books! It’s called King of the Dark and it’s available now and I was a little excited about this development on Twitter:

Barnes & Noble is doing podcasts now. What a wonderful world.

What I’m reading

“Queen of the Night” by Alexander Chee. This is how I get into books. I saw a quote of Chee’s on Twitter about what writer’s block means and so I decided to pick up one of his books.

From his interview with Goodreads

I am not a big Victorian-era book reader, and this one started slow for me. I’m elbow-deep in now. Here’s something wild that happened while I was reading this book:

I was working on a short story that I’d been trying to finish for months and I got to the buildup to the end I’d had in mind when I just stopped. I couldn’t figure out how to get from where I was to where I was going and that had never happened before. I was so. close.

So I closed the file and decided to read instead to calm myself down, intending to just get through a few pages, then go about the rest of my day. I picked up “Queen of the Night” and began reading. I read a passage that was so beautiful that it unlocked whatever had happened with my block. Seriously. I closed the book, opened my document and finished my short story right there, right then. My story and his have nothing in common. I don’t know how to explain it, except as I said: Dude unlocked my writer’s block. So thanks, Alexander?

“Why is it so loud when you cry from grief? Because it must be loud enough for the missing one to hear, though it never can be. Loud enough to scale the sky and the backs of angels, or to fall through the earth to where they rest. And so it is sometimes when I sing that the notes come from me as if I believed I could reach them where they rest, they sure of a reunion I still cannot imagine or believe in except, sometimes, in song.”

Chee, “Queen of the Night”

Therapy with TWA: The First Person I Ever Converted to Tennis

(Cross-posting from my tennis blog, as I do when something is at the forefront of my mind)

I haven’t been posting much lately, and that’s because I’ve been dealing with family issues. I thought, even against all the evidence I had to the contrary, that at some point, the weight of the responsibility of caring for my sick father would be alleviated once he got better. That actually didn’t end up happening.
My father died a couple of weeks ago and since then, I’ve not been in the mood for much, least of all tennis. So here I am, back on the therapy couch.
Did I ever tell you guys about how my dad became a tennis fan?
So about 16 years ago, I was becoming obsessed with the sport. I was playing it, was dating a guy I met because of it, was actually getting good at it. I loved watching it on television. Whenever I talked to my dad, he would talk to me about boxing and I would talk to him about tennis. I never really liked boxing. My dad loved boxing. I hadn’t watched boxing since I was under his roof because we had one television and I had no choice. We’re talking Mike Tyson’s heyday here. And honestly, growing up in Brooklyn with Tyson knocking out everyone lined up against him? It would have been sacrilege not to follow that. But that was the depth of my boxing expertise.
Now, despite my possibly obvious disinterest in the sport, it didn’t change my dad’s determination to narrate each blow of the recent match he watched. I listened. He was super jacked about it. But still, no dice. No boxing fandom for me.
My dad eventually moved to a housing development with a pool and tennis court. When we went to visit one time, he wanted to have a hit. One thing you should know about my dad is that he was very meticulous about his appearance. And yet, he came out with my then-boyfriend and I to his tennis courts and allowed photographical evidence of his completely wack tennis game to be recorded. Now, I would never actually share those tiny images of him completely mishandling his racquet and looking decidedly uncoordinated that I took on a Motorola Razr nearly 13 years ago.

Bah, he wouldn’t have minded.
But here’s the thing. So it never occurred to me that I should start watching boxing because my dad liked it. For me, it was like, “No, I didn’t see that fight. Let’s talk about something else!” And we could. There was no shortage of things to talk about with him. There was life, movies, books, current events, and the like. But my dad knew that I had this new passion and did not resolve, as I did, to talk about something else, or to allow the other person to ramble on just because. No. My dude became a tennis fan. And I’m not talking about folks who are Serena/Maria/Fed stans. He watched all the matches. He trended towards the young Americans and women’s tennis, especially the rivalries. It never ceased to surprise me just how much he got entrenched. He knew all the player names, and when we turned on tennis at his house, he could go on about Marion Bartoli’s game, or that of Simona Halep. I know he still loved boxing.
It’s not like I feel guilt for not becoming a boxing fan, because to expect someone to pick up a sport because someone they care about cares about it is a lot. But he did it.
What does that say about him?
Things I didn’t fully understand until now.

Therapy with TWA: This Moment Right Here

“They say African Americans have to be twice as good, especially women. I’m perfectly OK with having to be twice as good.”

Serena Williams said that. I’ve been thinking about it a lot this month, and it’s part of the reason I got mad with her at the U.S. Open. You don’t set your standards that high, and then lower them to act like John McEnroe. Yuck.
I’ve been thinking about it for the last few weeks because we’re about to get an irresponsible, dishonest frat boy who likes beer for a Supreme Court justice. That’s just the stuff we know about him for sure. He’s about to get this job because we lower the bar for privilege so low in this country that all he has to do is have a tantrum, and poof! He has what he wants.
I would suspect that if you’re a woman, this week has been tough. If you’re a black woman, it’s been even harder. It’s not just the light treatment of sexual assault accusations by our political leaders. I once had an internship at Family Circle, and the girl I interned with showed up to work one day severely hung over. I’m not exaggerating. She asked me to smell her breath to make sure it didn’t smell like liquor. It did. I told her it didn’t. Her grandfather owned a printing press. She couldn’t even turn on the computer. I’m not exaggerating.
So yeah, this has been a lot. It will continue to be a lot. It’s not fair to watch someone get a job they don’t deserve because of their privilege.
Still, there is something to having to work for what you’ve gotten. So maybe he becomes a justice. The career I’ve had, I worked for it. I endured comments about my race, my clothes, my smile — and that was before we even got to the quality of my work.
I had to be twice as good. It’s not fair. But it’s OK. I’d rather be twice as good than half anyway.

*This is a cross-post from my Tennis With Attitude blog. 

What I learned from reading the worst book I’ve encountered in some time

Recently, I tried an experiment based on a simple question: Would my favorite authors as a teen/young adult stand the test of time? Would I still think these writers were any good? I was just curious. So at the library, I searched for books from one of my favorite horror books from back in the day and found that Christopher Pike writes adult fiction horror books, too. On top of that, his books were located only a few feet from the computer I was working on, so off I went. I came home with his 2007 book, Falling. On the cover is a review blurb that reads: “Literary crack cocaine.”

See, I thought that was a good sign at first, but after reading this book, I remembered that crack cocaine is actually not good for you.

Let’s be clear: This is not a good book. It has a vaguely interesting plot and you want to know what happens next, kinda. I think it’s more that once you get halfway into the book, you feel like you need to know how it ends, and you don’t want to cheat and flip to the back, because that’s just never right. Still, I almost quit this book about halfway in because I thought it would be too predictable and the writing was painful. It definitely wasn’t predictable, but the pain was real. I basically sped-read my way through the end and although there were lots of twists and turns, nothing was more important than reaching the end. I made myself finish, though, because I thought there might be a lesson in it for me.

The big idea: So this guy, Matt, falls in love with this girl, Amy, who is not very nice. She breaks his heart and he decides to fake his death and then return to torment her. This is happening at the same time an FBI agent, Kelly, goes rogue in pursuing a serial killer and ends up getting attacked with acid. Bummer, sure, but then her husband leaves her, takes their daughter, and moves in with another woman. Then Kelly takes on a case involving Amy and she ends up crossing paths with Matt.

The theme here is falling. Pike fairly beats you over the head with it. Everyone in this book is falling — out of planes, off boats, mountains, you name it. Mainly, everyone in this book has fallen in love and it has gone badly. There isn’t one normally functioning relationship in this book at all — not even a parent/child relationship. But that’s fine. It makes for high drama.

What’s the problem, then? We have to dedicate some time to some of the worst lines I’ve ever read. I mean, I physically recoiled at several passages in this book. Such as this one:

My god. OK, you want the reader to know Charlie is black. OK. There’s got to be a better way. You know, like this:

OK, not like this. And what exactly is even the meaning of this? Pete’s sake.

B-b-b-b-but wait, there’s more:

A … Lego. Maybe pick something that doesn’t have a completely different meaning for a parent of small kids. Is Amy really a pain in the foot? Lord.

We’re supposed to believe Kelly is smart, but then she says stupid stuff like this (she’s in disguise and I don’t want to waste time talking about why):

Asterisk: The Rolling Stones literally had a song called “Stoned,” and another one called “Stupid Girl.” But it’s the rap that makes you want to abuse your woman. This is so intellectually lazy that it’s distracting.

So wait. What was the first way?

I feel that by now, you must surely get the point of the poor writing. Let’s move on to other aspects. In one way, Pike keeps the story going — he manages to cut through a lot of transitional stuff. But in other ways, this book is still bogged down in tedium and reflection. I was trying to get a grip on what was happening with this book, and then I realized what it was as I was reading something else entirely — instructions for something I had just purchased. The main problem here is that this book does a lot of telling, and not a lot of showing. We’ve got pages here of delving into Matt’s brain — how emotionally attached he is to Amy, the reasoning around why he does everything as opposed to Matt’s actions speaking for themselves. Which is admittedly hard is a situation like this, because for a smart person, Matt does a lot of very dumb things, and then stands around on the phone with whoever (as described by Pike) and thinks of how to get out of the dumb situation he just put himself into. Kelly, this alleged genius hotshot agent, literally does the same thing twice to get herself nearly killed WITH THE SAME PERSON and befriends a kidnapper who could just as easily kill her as well. If Kelly were real, this is the agent you want to investigate you for any serious crime. At the very least, she would give you a good head start. Basically, Pike tells us the wrong things. We have dialogue that goes on like this for three pages:

but he dedicates two paragraphs to the moment that Kelly realizes she can’t live without her family through a conversation with a random little girl.

So, besides the clunky writing, this book reinforced the necessity of the art of showing, not telling. Stephen King covers this in On Writing. There is one other book I’ve read like Falling: Wire in the Blood by Val McDermid. (This actually was made into a great British series with Robson Green who is just too damn sexy for his own good and he needs to stop it.) Anyway, both of these books had something good — a story. In McDermid’s case, she had strong characters and a good story. But the command of the language, the natural dialogue just wasn’t there. I think of other books I’ve read with the opposite issue — We Were the Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates is a good example — where the writing is sweeping and beautiful but when the book is over, you realize that it’s difficult to tell anyone what the story was about. For example, the defining moment of the book doesn’t happen in front of the reader’s eye. We just read about the fallout. No one jumped out of a plane in that book, and yet it still held my imagination better than one that involved several death-defying jumps, at least five instances where the main characters almost die, a surprise paternity result and just some wild stuff involving vinegar and the storage of dead bodies.

So what did I learn from my experiment, besides that you can have an interesting story and turn it into a bad book? Well, it leaves me a little afraid of looking at his most memorable book from my teen-dom now, Remember Me. Or of any of the other authors whose work I inhaled back then. Which of course means I’ll be doing this again.

 

 

 

West Wing-in’ it

This weekend, again, I decided to stay off Twitter, and binge The West Wing instead. (It’s now overdue again from the library. I should have just given them $10 when I picked it up.) Sometime on Saturday night, and on my (third) (??) glass of wine, I started watching the episode called “The Drop-In,” followed by “Bartlet’s Third State of the Union.” I started by jotting down some of the better dialogue because I was cackling through the entire thing, basically. So what follows are my transcribed handwritten notes in italics, along with some random observations in parentheses.

 

BARTLET: “Leo, were you born at the age of 55?” (Leo apparently had never read the “Peanuts” comic strip. Yes, I get he’s a TV character, but honestly. That’s ridiculous.)

***

dude from Police Academy movies. (OK, this was Tackleberry! Who knew he got more work after “Police Academy?”)

***

“It shall be the unequivocal opinion of the United States government that global warming presents a clear and present danger to the health and future well-being of this planet and all its inhabitants.” That was silly Sam Seaborn. Obviously, as we all now know, global warming is some sort of liberal scam.

***

Donna thinks Lord John Marbury is handsome. I mean

***

JOSH: Can I have her for a second?
CJ: Why did you ask him (Toby) and not me?
JOSH: He looked in charge!
CJ: Of where I go?
(Incidentally, CJ is a boss and you are not!

***

BARTLET: Sweden has a 100 percent literacy rate, Leo. How do they do that?
LEO: Maybe they don’t and they also can’t count.

***

BARTLET: They’re gonna come at me with vegan food and pitchforks.
CHARLIE: That doesn’t really sound like something people really do.
BARTLET: Still, I’d like you to get in the way of me and any boiled seaweed you see coming my way.

***

Black man couldn’t get a break with Democrats either. #funnyjokesmatter (OK, this was the black comedian who made the joke about cops killing black people and he had to back out of hosting a Dem fundraiser event because the president laughed at the joke.

***

Lord John Marbury is growing on me.

***

Yo, we have never had a dumber TV president than the real president we have now.

***

Ted McGinley is basically timeless. (and impervious to age! How do you have the same exact face in 2000 as you do did on “The Love Boat in the ’80s?)

***

It’s a really good thing I’m not in Congress right now because I’d be throwing popcorn at Trump during his State of the Union. Just petty like that. Booing like a mo-FOOO!

***

Ainsley came out of the basement to trash the White House. “… not 100 percent constitutional?” (GIRL.)

***

Corbin Bernsen has been acting for at least 30 years. His mother is a friggin’ soap icon. He can’t drink out of a clearly empty mug without giving the game away?

***

Why are women losing their clothing items in odd ways? (CJ did a TV segment without pants. (Still a boss.) Ainsley’s walking around the White House basement in a bathrobe. (Wondering if she’ll eventually run into Mandy down there …) Donna and the underwear. OK, confession time. That one actually almost happened to me. OK, it did happen to me. I was just still at home, mercifully.)

***

Donald Trump is going to have to give a SOTU address. That’s cool. Because I think we know the state of our union. It’s very good. Many people have said it’s the best state and the best union in many, many years. Believe me. We’re working on great things. I make deals and we’re going to change how we’re doing things. We need to win again. So the SOTU is very, very, very good, I think and many fine people agree.
Many people are saying we have the statiest union we’ve ever had.
(I can’t believe I didn’t get “drain the swamp” in there somewhere.

***

Women are second-class citizens on West Wing, too. Not great when you’re worried about political blowback over something called the Violence Against Women act.

Socially exhausted

The last few weeks have been tough. You could make the argument that all the weeks have been tough since the presidential election.

But lately, Donald Trump had apparently taken his meds and flushed them down the toilet, then taken the toilet and had it demolished. Then there was the mass shooting in Las Vegas that left me sad and bereft of all hope that anything would be done this time. There were the awful allegations about Harvey Weinstein and reading about them made me physically recoil from my computer screen. Bu t really, it might have been Cam Newton that had me running and screaming from social media for the first time.

The chaos that erupted from the realization that the reporter Newton was accused of belittling had sent out racist tweets of her own raised some eye-opening and frustrating discussions among women. And not eye-opening as in enlightening. I watched white women stand up with this reporter when she was targeted by Newton, then poo-poo her past tweets like they were no big deal, and as those discussions escalated on Friday, I decided that was about it for me. I told myself I wasn’t going to go onto Facebook or Twitter for the entire weekend. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that, on account of the fact that I check Twitter roughly 500 times a day, and in my head, I thought it wouldn’t last, but I did it. I told myself that instead of checking those sites, I would do something else. Like what, you ask? I thought you would never ask:

  1. I read a book. I finished “Misery” by Stephen King, a book I thought I had already read, but I definitely had not. Mini-review: Far more disturbing than the movie. Hobbling was not what it was with Kathy Bates, that is for sure. I had been reading at a measured pace before, but with no real restraints, I finished the book on Saturday, and found at the end that I had finished reading it on the same date that King finished writing it. Creepy! I finally finished “Birth of a Nation,” a book about the making of and the fallout from the eponymous movie from 1915 that I began reading earlier this year. I learned a lot while reading it, including about the relationship between Booker T. Washington and crusading editor Monroe Trotter (who led the unsuccessful fight to get the movie out of theaters). There’s an essay in there somewhere that pertains to today’s current state of affairs, I think.
  2. I did some writing. I’ve been working on a secret (for now, anyway) project and I had been wondering if it was winding to a close because I didn’t have anything else to say and over the weekend, I found that I had actually quite a bit to say. So it’s going to stay a secret a bit longer.
  3. I took my kids to the library. Plot twist: They just wanted to be on the computer the whole time.
  4. I got organized. I have a content calendar for my tennis blog! I have a bullet journal! I came up with freelance project ideas. I also cleaned my house, which is a big one, guys.

The next weekend, I boycotted Twitter after a spontaneous call for one emerged after the company temporarily suspended Rose McGowan, who apparently violated the terms of service while she was sounding the alarm on Weinstein. But mainly, the situation showed that the company has several problems, most significantly its failure to enforce its TOS equally. But what does Twitter do? It gives people more characters with which to tweet. Actually, the boycott was on Friday and I thought I would try the weekend break again. Three days off Twitter and I felt like I had a new brain. Plus, my anxiety levels were down. There really should be some type of scientific study, because I think I got smarter being off social media.

Being off Twitter helped me get at something I’ve been feeling for a while. I used to read stories all the way through, even when I first joined Twitter. I would read it and if I liked it, I would share it. Back in the day, you’d read a story and discuss it at the dinner table or at school (yes, my friends and I were nerds like that). Now, everything is coming at you at the same time, and you know headlines, but little else. This is literally the worst time in history to not be fully informed. And you know what? Old-school as it might seem, maybe going to the main source — a reliable newspaper or TV station — is not such a bad idea and (now clutch the pearls) might be worth the money for a subscription?

One more thing happened: I asked myself why I’m always on Twitter. It started as a way to stay sane after the election because there were millions of other people out there who thought Trump was a bad idea and we could communicate. And the crazier this administration acted, the more I was on social media, getting affirmation that yes, this is absolutely nuts. It’s good to have that, but it’s better to think about and engage in ways to change your community, because change starts locally before it gets a big stage. So I’m thinking the Twitter weekend breaks (and maybe now weeknight breaks) are going to continue for a while.

I think I’ll use that time to get this scientific study going, because seriously, someone should look into the effects of Twitter on your brain.

Top 5: Best books of 2016

I like to think of myself as someone who is open to all styles and authors and viewpoints. Having said that, I also decided some years ago that I would bail out of a book if it wasn’t worth it. There is not exactly a scientific approach to arriving to the idea that the book isn’t worth it. But there are factors you can weigh. What is this author’s reputation? Is she writing about something interesting? Do I need to know what comes next?

So all of these books passed at least that test. And all these people on the list are authors I read for the first time, so for me, the story and style of writing was all I had to go on. Here goes:

 

1. “The Start-Up of You” by Reid Hoffman and Ben Casnocha: This is not a 2016 book, but this book changed the course of my life. I am not exaggerating. It caused me to consider how I approached my career (emphasis on “my”) and made me ask the question: “What am I doing to improve myself and the world around me?” I’m not a cheap person, but I don’t purchase every book I read. After I moved for the first time, I decided to never keep enough books to fit in a standard moving box because that’s heavy. So I buy the books I know I will refer to heavily. I do not own every book on this list. I own “The Start-Up of You.” And it’s currently on loan. If you need a professional kick-in-the-pants, this is for you.

2. “Bad Feminist” by Roxane Gay: This is a book of essays by an author I had never even heard of until this summer. I am ashamed of that fact because Gay is basically my critic twin. Her biting humor, cynicism and observation makes even an essay about “50 Shades of Gray” worth reading. (I tried to read the “50 Shades” books, and she definitely took one for the team.) I have never read a volume full of opinions that I completely agreed with before until reading “Bad Feminist.” But even if I didn’t, even if you didn’t, you’d still appreciate her writing style and the straightforward way she approaches the prickliest of topics. Also, she shares my opinion of “Titanic:” https://twitter.com/rgay/status/679180868242579456

3. “Between the World and Me” by Ta-Nehisi Coates: I’m not a black man. I guess I have always lumped together the experiences and history of black people in general by race and never gender. And it turns out there is a huge difference in the way a black woman and a black man views the world. Gay offers a perspective that closely matches mine because we can check off two of those boxes and we both have parents of West Indian heritage. But Coates’ book, written as a letter to his son, is tightly knit in its narrative and powerful in his observations about what it means to be a black man in America raising a black son. It’s painful to read and it makes your heart hurt and it makes you understand that you never really understood the thing you thought you understood. Like the path your own brother must have navigated through this world, and that it was/is very different from your own.

4. “Year of Yes” by Shonda Rimes: So I have this problem. I never thought it was a problem, but it’s a thing and I think I need to address it. When people start going on and on about how great something is, I automatically assume it’s all hype. If everyone else likes it, I won’t even try it. This is probably a byproduct of a journalism career full of skepticism. This is why I have never watched one episode of “Scandal,” or “Grey’s Anatomy.” (I also haven’t seen a nighttime soap opera since “Dynasty,” though. But then I saw Rimes’ TED Talk about her Year of Yes and she is honest, funny and direct. So then I had to read “Year of Yes.” Rimes taught me about balance and also told me it was OK to want a family and to also want to succeed at your craft. We just happen to share the same craft: writing. And I never appreciated her craft until now. So I guess 2017 will bring me the opportunity to at least try “Grey’s Anatomy.” And maybe Beyonce’s music.
I might need to slow down a bit here.

5. “Writing my Wrongs” by Shaka Senghor:

If you read my post from last week about my favorite podcasts, you might have noticed I have a thing about the criminal justice system. This thing led me to “Writing my Wrongs” by Shaka Senghor. Senghor is a confessed, convicted murderer who found faith and redemption in prison and his story about finding a way out of the criminal cycle he was in is not a perfect one. It was a struggle. It’s a struggle to read this book, too. It’s not the writing style or anything like that. It’s just messy is all. If you’re like me, who has never seen the inside of a prison cell, this is an important read. Because no matter what anyone has done, prison shouldn’t be only a punitive place. It should be a place where criminals can be reformed. Senghor was lucky. He found a way to a fruitful life despite the prison system. It’s food for thought — as is “Writing my Wrongs.”