The Happy Booker

Independent's Day

Thanks to the many bloggers who picked up my plea to help save  Chapters bookstore, a literary bastion in downtown DC.

It wasn't just litbloggers who heard the call, several authors stepped forward as well. Here's a note by Richard McCann, author of the amazing Mother of Sorrows, letting us know what Chapters has meant to him.

In Praise of Chapters, by Richard McCann

Let me put it plainly:  I love Chapters Bookstore.  When I moved back to Washington in the 1980s—after twenty years of living elsewhere and abroad—I went to Chapters to hear Susanna Moore read from her novel The Whiteness of Bones.  (This was even before Chapters moved to K Street, long before it moved to its current fine location on 11th Street NW, right in the heart of downtown.)  I'd been away from Washington a long time, and I wasn't all that happy to have moved back.  But I remember thinking that Chapters was there, and it was going to make a crucial difference in my life back in D.C., particularly since I had just started writing again, after some years of writing nothing at all.  That evening, listening to Susanna Moore—I remember that Moore shook her silver bracelets a few times, and that she answered one question from the audience by informing us that she was speaking as a former Miss Aluminum—I thought, Well, I'd like to read at Chapters some day.  That's what I'd like to do.  That was the mantra I carried with me whenever I went through its doors, most often to find a book of poems that I could find at no other bookstore.  Of course, some years later, it was a pleasure to read there, as one might imagine.  It was a pleasure to read there a few times, in fact.  But for me, the blend of enchantment and familiarity that I associate with Chapters—standing among writers, listening to writers whom I admire reading from their new works—has never vanished, not for a moment, and I'm still as happy as can be whenever I walk through its doors and see Terri Merz standing at the counter, sorting through the books that she and Steve love with all of their hearts.  It's one of the crucial places of our lives.

NBA Winners

The National Book Award winners were announced yesterday and we're glad our bookie was out of town. We would have lost some serious dough if we had bet our fiction hunches.

• Young People's Literature: Jeanne Birdsall, The Penderwicks (Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers)

• Poetry: W.S. Merwin, Migration: New and Selected Poems (Copper Canyon Press)

• Nonfiction: Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking (Knopf) 

• Fiction: William T. Vollmann, Europe Central (Viking)

Even though we're a card-carying member of the Vollmann Reading Club, there is no way we would have predicted his win.  Apparently, we are not alone— read Ron's firsthand account here.

Thursday Night Live

DC Event

Elizabeth Poliner, author of the LBC nominated Mutual Life & Casualty, will be reading tonight at George Washington University.  The reading will take place at the Marvin Center Amphitheatre (3rd floor) at 8pm. Free tickets are required and can be obtained at the Marvin Center TicketMaster outlet (in the basement) prior to the reading.

NYC EVENT

Opium Magazine Reading Series #8 at Happy Ending Lounge, tonight at 8pm. Host Todd Zuniga will be joined by Dave Itzkoff and Michelle Orange, with a short film of Jonathan Hayes' adaptation of Donald Barthelme's "The School," a short film by John Leary featuring kung-fu kittens, and special guest CJ Kershner, along with a mystery giveaway!  Zuniga promises that everyone will leave with an artist-designed button! Don't miss this free event.

Final Chapters?

Downtown DC bookstore Chapters is making a bold move to keep its doors open. In serious financial difficulty, the small indie bookstore is going nonprofit and appealing to the public for support. 1,600 people willing to contribute $50 each is what it's going to take to keep this vibrant bookstore open. The Washington Post reports the whole story here.

Writer, blogger, and proponent of indie bookstores everywhere, Jeremy Mercer stops by to share his thoughts on Chapters. Mercer's latest book, Time Was Soft There, is a memoir of the Paris bookshop Shakespeare and Company.

(This the first essay we're running about Chapters. Please contact us if you'd like to write about your experience at Chapters and its need of our ongoing support.)


In Praise of Chapters, by Jeremy Mercer

One of my great mentors was the writer Christopher Cook Gilmore. He spent a lifetime traveling and writing and by the time we met in Paris in the year 2000, he’d been across six continents and had a handful of books to his name.

Chris knew how to get along - on the road, with people, in life. This was a necessity for a writer who never had much money, so over tiny bottles of Kronenberg beer he taught me what he knew. The first lesson?

“Whenever you arrive in a new town, find the bookstore,” he said. “That’s where you’ll find the good people, that’s where you’ll get the help you need.”

Chris didn’t need to specify an independent bookstore because we were living together at Shakespeare and Company at the time. Not all independents have beds in the back where you can sleep for free like at Shakespeare, but there is almost always a built-in community at the store, an obsessed bookseller or two and at least one person willing to lend a hand to a lost soul.

I have nothing against the online booksellers and big chains; anybody who spreads the written word is doing noble work. I just believe that independent bookstore owners, the more eccentric the better, are on the fast track to sainthood. As a rule, they put in long hours, support local writers and alternative publications, and foster an environment that is closer to a community centre than a retail outlet. Most amazingly, they rarely do it for the money (who makes money as an independent bookseller?) but keep their stores going out of devotion to the books they sell.

Sure, you might pay an extra dollar or three for your book at independents. But in return you are likely to get reading advice, kind words, a human moment. More importantly, you will most be supporting an Outpost of Good. In these overly commercial times where the bottom line seems to be held in as much esteem as the Bible, independent booksellers are hubs of progressive politics, creative endeavors, and community actions. The independent booksellers are like the Ewoks in Star Wars, working together in the hinterlands of capitalism, fighting the forces of darkness.

If you live in or near Washington DC, I urge you to visit Chapters bookstore. This has been an Outpost of Good for 20 years and finds itself on the brink of bankruptcy. Maybe do a bit of holiday shopping, maybe sign up to help the foundation, or maybe just stop in and tell Terri and Steve you support what they’re doing. It would all be helpful.

Not everyone is going to come to their bookstore the way Chris Cook Gilmore came to Shakespeare and Company. He was part of the student uprising in Paris in May 1968 and was being chased by police when he ducked into the bookstore. I’m not promising you that your local independent bookseller will shelter you from riot police, but I am saying you have a much better chance of finding peace and safety there than at your local Barnes & Noble.

Hear here!

Old Hag has gone AWOL this week, leaving her blog in the ever-capable mitts of our pal Liam Callanan. But don't despair fans of Lizzie, you can hear the Hag here, sounding neither old, nor haggish. (No need for an iPod; click on the bat picture for some MP3- style love.)

If you missed Reb Livingston, our most Crucial Rooster, read last week at Books and Books, you can listen in here.  You'll find our Reb is in fine voice, all throaty and raspy and doing her best to sound like a 10 pack a day smoker—read Reb's blog and see her photos here.

Finally, if you're looking for music, check out the heavy rotation playlist over at Fulmerica Radio. Only up for a limited time, so catch it while you can…

Crucial Rooster

This month our Crucial Rooster columnist has flown the coop for Miami. If you're reading this in the vicinity of Coral Gables, don't miss Ms. Livingston's appearance tonight at Books & Books.  Tell her the Happy Booker sent you!

(Can you keep a secret? While our favorite poet, editor and blogger is away enjoying some fun in the sun, we thought we'd take this opportunity to do a little holiday shopping for her. She's quite impossible to shop for, but right now we've gotten it narrowed down to this or this. What do you think?)

Crucial Rooster: Poetry Column by Reb Livingston

As an editor of a poetry magazine, it’s important for me to keep up with other poetry publications.  I read as many as I can and always pay attention to the buzz generated.  One reason I do this is so I can stay current with contemporary poets.  Another reason is so I can compare my magazine with the rest.  I’m a Capricorn and we’re the competitive sign. 

Since I became an editor, I get a lot of sunshine blown up my ass.  Everyday I receive poetry submissions with letters telling me my magazine is the sexiest, best, most wonderful poetry publication out there.  After I select a poet’s work to publish, I’m told my editorial taste is superior to all other poetry editors.  It’s a delicious feeling.  Sometimes, after I change my baby’s explosive diaper and feel a little down about my predicament, I read a few suck-up letters to lift my spirits.  Those sweet messages have saved me countless trips to the liquor cabinet.

On September 28, 2005, my fragile ego was devastated by poet, Rebecca Loudon.  In June, five of Rebecca’s fabulous poems appeared in No Tell Motel.  She conveyed her excitement for the publication and thanked me for being willing to put the word “assitude” in a poem.  I thought we had something special between us.  But just a few short months later she wrote on her blog regarding Forklift, Ohio:  A Journal of Poetry, Cooking & Light Industrial Safey:

“This has to be the absolute coolest publication I've ever been in. Seriously. The cover of this issue is a polyethylene membrane with a grid structure of square, cut-back cavities, and an anchoring fleece laminated to its underside. The binding is plastic tie-wrap. There were other little miracles floating inside the envelope including a carpenter's pencil and an actual order form for a bottle manifold dated 10-17-67.”

Miracles?!? Reading the above was an akin to hearing an ex-boyfriend brag how his new girlfriend is the prettiest he’s ever had.  It hurts.

Also hurtful was seeing how many other No Tell poets were in this “absolute coolest publication” of all time.  Anthony Robinson, Hugh Steinberg, Cami Park, Corey Mesler, Nate Pritts, oh how could you!?!

Like any jealous ex, I had to get a copy and see for myself.  I thought, Forklift, Ohio can’t be that amazing, surely she has wonky eyes or man hands.  There has to be something wrong with her.  This is where I could have benefited from a straight-talking friend, somebody to tell me “Let it go.  Have a little dignity!”  No such friend was around.  The journal arrived and I read it cover to cover. 

Then I ate an entire chocolate cake. 

It was true, Forklift, Ohio is an absolutely cool publication from its unique DIY style to its vibrant (sometimes hilarious) poems.  Even the recipes are tantalizing.  Rotini with Jalapenos.  Coconut Fishball Soup.  Grilled Figs with Thyme Honey!!!

Everything about this journal feels physical, from the rough construction and graphics, layout, food and the poems.  Reading this issue isn’t going to transport you to the land of fairies and pixie dust (or whatever “magical” thing poetry is supposed to do for you), it’s going to be a reminder that you’re human with a corporeal form and earthly needs.  Take Samuel Amadon’s poem “Head Injury” for example:

He also thinks / my blood-pressure will lower if I meditate & that // our waitress is beautiful.  Our waitress is not beautiful / but it’s better not to argue with a neuroscientist.  Probably / better not to let one look at your head too closely either.  / Do you really want to know what’s happened to you // after how many times you stood up into a spiral staircase / or how many times the collected Lowell fell on your temple / before you picked a different place to keep it?

Forklift, Ohio is edited by Matt Hart and Eric Appleby.  While I will concede their journal is indeed cool, I still claim that I am by far the better kisser.  Issue #14 is available for $10 here.

While You Were Sleeping...

A Democratic Governor and our whole mood brightens. What a difference a day makes…

We are finally catching up on our reading over here. Newspapers and periodicals litter the house, listing toward us in dangerously high piles, reeking of neglect and demanding our attention. But before they hit the recycle bin, we thought we would pass along a few keepers:

Ben Alsup's profile of Donn Pearce in the October Esquire.

"Donn Pearce was a counterfeiter and a convict. He was a merchant marine and a safecracker. He was these things before he turned twenty, and then he wrote Cool Hand Luke, was nominated for an Academy Award, went broke, and chased bail jumpers."

Yeah, it caught our attention. Keep reading, it's worth it. (We would like to put a plug in here for Scott Raab, who didn't write this article, but who is our all time favorite Esquire writer. If Raab ever gets his fiction act together and puts out a novel, we will be first in line to buy it. You can take that to the bank. )

The New York Times lets it slip that Mary Gaitskill lives in a student dorm at Syracuse University during the week. We have to wonder if this cost-effective living arrangement will change if she wins the National Book Award. ( Ms. Tingle is loving Veronica, which now interests us— we enjoyed Bad Behavior and Two Girls Fat and Thin, but found Because They Wanted To too grim and relentless for our taste.)

A final note: At dinner last week with Tim Wendel and Mary Kay Zuravleff we compared notes about current fiction, the writing life in DC, and the merits of bacon (I'm ready for my photo opp, Mr. Goldberg). A good time was had by all and it wasn't until later that I realized that I had forgotten to tell them about this site. If you see them, please pass it along. I think they would literally love it. Thanks.

Tuesday Angst

The polls have only been closed an hour but the early reports don't look good for Virginia Dems. It's still too early to tell, so we're trying to type with our fingers crossed and keep some hope alive— things can change right? They can still win, can't they?

We return tomorrow with more literary-inspired tidbits and links. Stay tuned.. THB

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If I Only Had an iPod...

First it played songs. Then it showed off photos. But now it does THIS.  Yes, another bright and shiny new gizmo from Apple that has caught our attention. Fully.

As everyone knows, we're all about the iPod over here. And we're thrilled to have Marcy Dermansky stop by and lay a few tunes on us. Dermansky, who recently gave a reading while riding a unicycle at the Happy Ending Reading Series, is the talented and well-balanced author of the debut novel Twins.

Marcy is also helping us arrange our first ever book give-away contest here on the Happy Booker. The first person to email us with their home address gets a FREE copy of Twins.  Yes, it's a banner day here on THB... And even if you're not the lucky recipient of the gratis copy, you're sure to appreciate the Twins playlist. So sit back and enjoy!

Twins Playlist  by Marcy Dermansky

Before I provide my iPod Twins playlist, listened to so often the songs have ceased to have any meaning for me, it's important to state how the music came into my ears: Bose headphones. The noise canceling kind. This is direct product placement for a company I have no stock in. These headphones might be prohibitively expensive, but if received as a gift, are absolutely free. Holidays are not far away.

I write in a collective space for writers. In a mandatory quiet space, the worst distraction of them all are loud typers. Hovering over them with an angry stare is not an effective solution. The Bose headphones are. They really do block outside noise. In the case of super loud angry male writers, ear plugs are also required. Then the music has to be played really loud, or simply not played at all. (But that's for the deaf and oblivious, easy to startle book blog, guest column.)

It seems ridiculous that I played the following songs to such lengths, over and over again. By the time I got around to page two hundred, the act of picking something new was an effort I wasn't willing to make.

The Old Songs:

The State We're In, The Chemical Brothers, featuring Beth Orton. The first four minutes are groovy, repetitive, dreamy. Typical Orton. Then the Chemical Brothers take over. You can also hear this song in "Lost in Translation," for the five brief seconds Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray are dancing in the Tokyo disco. It's not on the soundtrack.

Moonlight Mile, Rolling Stones, Sweet Thing/I'll Be Your Lover, Too, Van Morrison. These three songs—all of them ballads—are unabashedly earnest and romantic. I'm not sure why they made it into this playlist. The lyrics have nothing to do with the actual text of Twins. The track of "I'll Be Your Lover" is live; when the song ends, Van Morrison says "How's that?" I always found myself compelled to answer him, in my head of course. Usually my answer had something to do with how the writing was going.

Some New Songs:

Everything Goldfrapp. I discovered this incredible English band watching the incredible English film by Polish director Pawel Pawlikowski "My Summer of Love." I love the moody, instrumental stuff on the soundtrack, like "Mona and Tasmin on a Rock." It goes well with the artists on the soundtrack: Edith Piaf, Chopin, The Pretenders.The entire album "Felt Mountain" is dreamy smooth. "Black Cherry" is more dancy, but just as good.

Ending Song, Keren Ann. Wistful and haunting, the final track on this wonderful album by the Israeli/French singer is my very favorite. It's also good to love a song with a title so fitting to its placement on this Ipod list.