From today’s New York Times comes an amazing story about indy author Meredith Wild, who not only struck gold, she’s helping other struggling writers achieve success.
Read Roz Chast’s best-selling memoir “Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?” in one sitting. It’s a heroic, poignant, funny book about how she coped with her parents’ painful descent into senility and the ravages of old age. Very relatable for anyone dealing with aggravating elderly parents.
“The Wind is Not a River”–finished Brian Payton’s novel, but still can’t grasp the meaning of the dumb title. The book was good, although I was shocked to see at least two embarrassing typos. Shame on his editors!
Tried Lori Moore’s “Bark”–read a couple chapters. Ho hum.
B. J. Novak’s “One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories” was amusing up to middle of the first chapter when profanity raised its ugly head and I threw the book across the room. Simply no need for that rubbish!
Just finished Anna Quindlen’s latest novel “Still Life with Bread Crumbs: A Novel” and loved it! I highly recommend Crumbs to everyone, especially Baby Boomers.
Forcing myself to start the bestseller “Little Failure: A Memoir” by Gary Shteyngart but have low expectations. Not my milieu and I tend to steer clear of authors whose names I can’t pronounce.
From: New York Times, Seattle Times, The New Yorker, ABC News.
Blue is the new black for tuxedos. Adam Sandler’s latest movie “Blended” is a flop, despite the presence of darling Drew Barrymore. The hottest thing to come out of the cold is Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard. Americans are over scheduling themselves to feel more important. Actress America Ferrera demonstrated grace under pressure when some nut case got too close for comfort at Cannes.
Gabriel García Márquez, the Colombian novelist whose “One Hundred Years of Solitude“ established him as a giant of 20th-century literature, died on Thursday at his home in Mexico City, at the age of 87.
Wonderful excerpt from “Gabo’s” obit in the New York Times:
Mr. García Márquez attributed his rigorous, disciplined schedule in part to his sons. As a young father he took them to school in the morning and picked them up in the afternoon. During the interval—from 8 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon—he would write.
“When I finished one book, I wouldn’t write for a while,” he said in 1966. “Then I had to learn how to do it all over again. The arm goes cold; there’s a learning process you have to go through again before you rediscover the warmth that comes over you when you are writing.”
Incidentally: “One Hundred Years of Solitude” is Bill Clinton‘s favorite book. If you haven’t read it yet, you should, and investigate Gabo’s other books, too. Adios Gabo!
“To encounter a fine book and have the time to read it is a wonderful thing.” Natalie Goldberg from Old Friend from Far Away.