Counterbalance

When Your Favorite Novel Becomes a Terrible Film

My second post in an ongoing series entitled "Books to Film: When Your Favorite Novel Becomes a Terrible Movie" is now up at LAist. 

Books-to-novels that are covered:

• The Lovely  Bones by Alice Sebold
• The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau
• Blindness by Jose Saramago
• Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez

A few on-deck novels-to-be-films that I'll cover next time:

• Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem
• Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
• I Am Charlotte Simmons by Tom Wolfe
• Pattern Recognition by William Gibson

You can check out the first in the series by clickety-clicking here.

Litty Bittys Lite

• My ditty for this Sunday's West Hollywood Book Fair is up at LAist. There will be so many excellent writers in attendance that I'm seriously considering making an appearance - no matter that my flight for Ireland leaves later in the evening.
• Some also-delicious readings I'll not get to this week...
• This blog post on blog posts stopped me in my tracks.  Really. I'm still trying to sort my thoughts, but I think there is something to less posts of higher quality. More when I figure it out. (Via Ed.)
• Viken Berberian discusses his hovel Das Kapital: A Novel of Love and Money Markets on Bookworm today at 2:30pm.
• More to come before I shove-off for the Emerald Isle...

Roth While Driving Can Be Divine

Whilst driving to Pasadena to run various pre-honeymoon errands (road map of Ireland, book of driving tours, additional books to add to the cache of Irish reading I plan to do while in Ireland...) I heard Alan Cheuse's audio-review of Roth's latest, Exit Ghost. Brief, interesting. More plot summary than review. Upon hearing this review, I mentally added the book to my ever-growing list of books to be read.  Fine. Good.

But then. Robert Siegel has a brief interview with Roth and, well, just go listen.  Topics discussed include:  the crazy notion that readers deserve to know about a writer's private life,  does Zuckerman = Roth, Arthur Miller, is this really the last novel (and what he'll do if it turns out it's not), if there are any upsides to being 70+ years of age, could Exit Ghost be considered slapstick, the downsides of celebrity, good biographies & bad biographies.

I've never (I know, a crime) heard Roth read his work or even give an interview. I've read many - never listened to them. He really does sound delightful. This is an example of an author interview that is truly lovely - where interviewer and interviewee spar in the best sort of way, where there is give and take, where the author actually gets to speak (imagine!) and where the interviewer does pose a few more probing questions but where he is not combative in the least. Call me one who avoids confrontation. Call me wamby-pamby. Perhaps I like my author-interviews "lite" - but it was a gorgeous surprise to hear Roth's delightful laughter filling my car as I frantically ran about town checking things off my list.

Bonus track: Roth speaks about George Plimpton (click the link to the bottom left...they won't allow me to link directly!) and it is worth it. Worth it.

Loving Frank Love

I was pleasantly surprised to read Liesl Schillinger's review of Nancy Horan's Loving Frank for the NYT.  I've had my eye on this book ever since I knew it was about to make its way into the world. However. Quite a few individuals I've spoken to about my interest in this book have raised a surprised brow, looked at me as if I could not possibly be serious. With so many other "truly serious" books about to drop, why on earth was I fascinated with this debut novel about Frank LLoyd Wright's mistress-turned-love-of-his-life Mamah Borthwick Cheney?

My interest in this book was so high that I selfishly kept it for myself to read and review after assigning a great many other books for LAist contributors to read and write-up.  I didn't want anyone else to get a crack at it - how crummy am I? Such is the nature of my interest in this book.

Yet the surprised, why would you review that when you could focus on so many other great works response I received from several lit peers stopped me in my tracks - I turned their gaze inward and wondered if perhaps I had gotten a little "off", a little askew in my tastes.  While I didn't abandon my interest, I did allow their opinions to sway me, to at least focus me on other books before getting to Loving Frank. As it stands, I've not yet gotten to it.  Were it not for Schillinger's review, I might have put it off even longer.  While I may still simmer in the broth of my own silly shame, I can at least pat myself on the back for reading the review of the book I've neglected, no?

Wasn't This an Episode of Entourage?

A lot of ballyhooing is burning up the wires as the latest "literary battle" over departing agents fans out and incinerates many in its wake.

I feel certain, quite certain, Ari did this seasons ago. Arguably with more comic fanfare.

UPDATE: I'm not sure how I missed this, but the corresponding visual of "the path to Caroline Michel" strikes me as akin to the Vanity Fair what's in/what's out and who is partying where charts. For literary lions and their agents? Really? It seems...so inappropriate.

Junot Diaz Wants You to Read These Books

The deadlines are pressing in from all sides and I'm all jazzed to give you the Junot Diaz reading lowdown.  My olive branch of a Diaz post until I can beat/meet/surpass/survive the deadlines is thusly:

He was effusive about a few books that EVERYONE should read - his enthusiasm for the books was delightful. He repeatedly reminded us, with expletives, that these books would blow our f-ing minds. So without further delay:

• Grotesque by Natsuo Kirino - "This book is unlike anything I've ever read. Some of her characters seem the same, but when you're getting the 'same' of something that is f-ing brilliant, it's all good, you know?"
• The Indian Bride by Karin Fossum - "Intense Norwegian story about how one small murder affects an entire town."
• The Etched City by KJ Bishop - "You MUST read this book. I'm always telling everyone to read it, but no one ever does."
• The Art of Political Murder by Francisco Goldman - "Goldman is a genius. After reading his work, I threw all my Mario Vargas Llosa books out the window. That guy is a criminal."

So there you have it. Fraught with intensity, laced with political musings. Go BookMooch these, place them in your library queue, or pick them up at Powells.  Please report your findings. Diaz commanded we do the same: "Read these books and let me know what you think."

Lit Bits & A Bit About Diaz

• Marianne Wiggins is on Bookworm today at 2pm. I suspect Ed's interview (BSS #134) will end up being the one that gave her the greatest opportunity to actually reply to questions, but we'll have to wait and see.
• I spent a lovely afternoon with a new friend and an author I've been eager to interview for...well...ages. The interview itself will be up at LAist in due time.  The conversation we had, however, lives on in my mind. In Technicolor & in the appropriate fonts. That's all the hinting you'll receive.
• Matthew Tiffany is taking on The Book of Disquiet sometime in October and he's found an interesting way to announce it.
• A little laugh for (with?) those who fondly remember their Ayn Rand days - and those who don't. Or didn't. Ever. And by didn't ever I mean didn't ever understand the effusive praise, one cover to cover reading of Atlas Shrugged leading me to question everyone who had claimed it the best book ever. I stand firm in my judgment of them, and the book, to this day. Good grief.
• Another excerpt-off (it's growing on me, obviously - perhaps I'll contact the doubletongued folks, who so nicely incorporated my "matchy-matchy" references into their lingo dictionary, and see what they think) might be in the making as the LA bookish universe pits Katherine Taylor at Vroman's against Lara Santoro at Dutton's both at 7pm tonight. I'm finishing my write-up on Santoro's Mercy for LAist and it should be up...later today. I believe I've waxed poetic about Taylor's Rules for Saying Goodbye before...but I'll wax again: it's so not what you think you're getting into and all the better for it. Just when you think - oh I've read this story a million times - it jags in another direction. It's smart. It's sad.  The human relationships feel authentic in ways that other writers don't quite capture. And it's also funny. At least I think it's funny in places...and you know how I adore funny.
• Mr. Esposito has a point. The Cheltenham Literature Festival logo looks like a direct lift of Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close cover. Like. They didn't even try to mask it. Flattering? Or blatant thievery? I feel like an ass for not making the connection - I, too, thought it looked terribly familiar, but was so focused on how to get myself to the lit fest during my not-in-England honeymoon, that I was unfazed by their less than creative logo department. For shame.
• The results of the first excerpt-off (it's working less for me now, kind of clunky, no?) are in: I attended the Junot Diaz reading at Dutton's last night (no small feat from downtown...but then, I was already halfway there due to the aforementioned font-filled interview) and all I can say is: damn. Diaz killed it. Again and again and again. I would like to take classes from Diaz. I would like to simply sit in his presence and listen to him talk about anything (really, anything) for hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Really. He is so funny and so commanding. So full of ideas and recommendations and inspiration. And the book - damn. Were it not for the many reviews and deadlines I've committed to, it would be, hands down, the only thing I'd do this weekend. The excerpts he read were divine. I simply cannot wait to hunker down with it and let the rest of the world fall away.  I'll have the full details from the reading up tomorrow.
   

Packer & Diaz Duke it Out...in my mind

It's a busy night in bookish LA and some difficult choices must be made. Namely: Ann Packer or Junot Diaz? My first response is: Diaz. The man has been silent for eleven very long years (the length of these years stretching ever-further in my own mind because his short story collection Drown changed me...forever changed me...and it has been murder waiting all these years to see what he'll do next) and as I've never heard him read (outside of podcasts), it seems insane not to scurry out and make it happen.  The regret of not attending would be rather heavy to carry around, especially if he disappears again for yet another eleven years.

But. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. I suspect there are others - many others - who've also been waiting for their moment. Their chance. The day when he would finally make an appearance and read what he has written.  If the reports from Miami and other locales are true, Diaz has been packing every reading he's given, with crowds standing in the back, sitting on the floor, attempting to share seats and folks who didn't make the cut pressed against the outside windows just to get a peek.

As I've stated before, this sort of reading always makes me feel...like not going.  Consider Chuck Palahniuk. I dig him. Really dig him. But his readings freak me out, so packed to the gills they've become that I find it off-putting. Viscerally. So I avoid them. But there is a continuum on which my interest in the writer outweighs my irritation at large, sweaty crowds. David Foster Wallace is a case in point. I've waited in rain and sleet and four foot deep snow...well...I exaggerate, but I've waited in the equivalent of rain and sleet and snow for LA (read: the cold, cold Hammer courtyard) and I've not regretted it. I believe you either have to buck-up or stay at home.

Shall I buck up for Diaz at Dutton's?

Or shall I take the easier route to Packer in Pasadena? A quick slipstream up the 110, vast amounts of parking, a cafe with good espresso.  A roomy reading area where the seats are plentiful and guests rarely sit on the floor (except for A.M. Homes, where there are always people on the floor) while listening with rapt attention.  Consider Packer. Her second novel, Songs Without Words, meant to be just as marvelous (perhaps more so) than her last (which I must admit I've not read.)  A difficult choice, really. A combination of so many things roiling around in my mind.  Tough to decide.

Perhaps we should have an excerpt-off? Much like the walk-off in Zoolander, but with excerpts instead of, well, walking would-be models.

First Up: the very old but much-linked to excerpt of The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao from December 2000

Second Up: a very current, just put up there excerpt from Songs Without Words

Therefore: if you were me, who would you go see?

New Etgar Keret Fiction

Whilst I was busy plying left-over wedding guests with our copious amounts of left-over wedding alcohol (we have cases, I tell you, cases), I missed out on something truly yummy: a new short story by Etgar Keret at LA Weekly.

To whet your appetite, it begins with not quite a bang but certainly a this-story-has-officially-begun kind of jolt:

"I was knocking down a wall.

All women reporters are whores and I was knocking down a wall. It had already been something like four months since she left. At first, I thought all that renovating would calm me down, but actually all it did was just upset me more. The wall I was knocking down was the one between the living room and the bedroom, so that the balcony was always behind me. But I remembered. You don't have to see to remember. I remembered how we used to sit there all night."

If you've not yet read Keret's work, this is your chance to click and read. Click and enjoy. Click and then run out and buy/mooch/steal/trade/whatever you have to do to get The Nimrod Flipout: Stories.

And yes, it is logical to assume that the aforementioned female whore-reporter is also the one who left four months ago. But you knew that already, right?

If Only the Scottish Football Museum Were in Cheltenham

I'll be honeymooning in Dublin with Mr. Counterbalance starting October 1st. We had planned to travel around Ireland by car (we've been told, repeatedly, that this is the only way to see the country properly) and eventually make our way (by plane or ferry or another as yet to be determined mode of transport) to Edinburgh, Scotland sometime around the second week of October.  We have a Glasgow trip in mind. A little sojourn to Troon.  Then there's Mr. Counterbalance's much-anticipated visit to the National Scottish Football Museum.  All good Scottish fun. 

However.

The Cheltenham Literature Festival, which begins (October 5th) and ends (October 14th) during our honeymoon, has me wondering if we shouldn't just skip dear old Scotland and make our way to England to take part in the fun. The line-up is incredible and it pains me to know I'll be oh so close to the action, but won't be able to partake.

A quick scan of the 10-day festival (that's right: ten. days. sort of puts our 2-day book festival to shame, no?) reveals all sorts of interesting match-ups, discussions, and panels that simply scream "ditch the honeymoon plans":

• Michael Ondaatje
• Yann Martel
• Germaine Greer
• Douglas Coupland
• Alain de Boton
• Hari Kunzru
• Jon McGregor
• Julia Blackburn
• Hermoine Lee
• Ian McEwan
• Ian Banks
• Roddy Doyle
• Jeanette Winterson
• Jonathan Coe & Blake Morrison discuss their work
• Martin Amis & Zachary Leader discuss Leader's book on Kingsley Amis
• Tracy Chevalier, Michael Phillips & Michael Rosen discuss William Blake
• Sarah Dunant, Michele Roberts & Helen Taylor discuss Daphne du Maurier
• Hugh Thompson, Ruth Padel, Katie Hickman & Miranda France discuss Gabriel Garcia Marquez
• The battle for Her Majesty's next Poet Laureate might make for a good time as well
• Also - I was strangely hooked on the Ewan McGregor/Charley Boorman motorcycle tripping Long Way Round and so would be quite interested in     hearing about their latest travels through South Africa
• I would also very much like to see Margaret Atwood, but she's doing the video thing again and will only be live via video-link from Canada. Hardly worth re-routing the honeymoon for, eh?
   

While the festival blurb doesn't really sell it for me ("Ten days, 400 writers, 350 events; expand your mind, stretch your horizons, refresh your inspiration and fire your imagination - we hope to see you there."), a chance to see some of these writers in person certainly does.

Hmm...how to make it to England without Mr. Counterbalance noticing the detour? A ferry from Cork perhaps...

While the festival blurb doesn't really sell it for me ("Ten days, 400 writers, 350 events; expand your mind, stretch your horizons, refresh your inspiration and fire your imagination - we hope to see you there."), a chance to see some of these writers in person certainly does.

Hmm...how to make it to England without Mr. Counterbalance noticing the detour? A ferry from Cork perhaps...