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The Desk Set is proud to announce that the following writers are planning to drop by our Writer/Reader Mingle & Book Swap: Jami Attenberg, Cathleen Davitt Bell, Gabrielle Bell, Stefan Merrill Block, Amitav Ghosh, Philip Gourevitch, David Gruber,Kara Jesella, Melissa Kantor, Wendy Lee, Larissa MacFarquhar, Matt Madden, Maura Madden,Marisa Meltzer, Honor Moore, Rob Sheffield, Sara Varon, & Adrienne Maria Vrettos. And there’s a chance that Francoise Mouly, David Rees, Esther K. Smith , Art Spiegelman, Lewis Warsh, and others might be in attendance.
If you look closely at the picture, in the letter N, you can see the twin towers.
And then 9/11 happened, and when the air supposedly cleared and we were allowed back in our offices, this billboard was still there. Even though I knew there was no reason it wouldn't be there, that the mural was blocks and blocks and blocks away from the WTC, the first time I saw it felt like a miracle, and seeing lady liberty was like seeing an old friend, one that was telling me that my city was still here, and that we were going to be okay.
The logical part of me knows that it was "just" an ad, that Hollister spending buckets of money to paint it over with their logo is money changing hands and in that way I'm sure it's good for the city.
But after 9/11, the bumper stickers and the t-shirts all said Never Forget. And we haven't. And we don't need a mural to remember, but we don't need someone painting it over, either, like it didn't mean a thing. Like it was just a random ad that had been up for sixteen years and featured a skyline that was no longer accurate.
I know that it was just an ad. But really. How could they?
I'm at the writer's room and I scored the desk in the corner, next to window! It's like the best day of my writer's room life. You should see the view. Actually, you can see the view:
What you can't really see is the great view of the rooftop decks, lush with trees and potted flowers and cushy lounge chairs. I've decided to scope out the best one and find a way to get myself an invitation. I'm holding out until I see one with a pool.
I think this best desk was empty because it finally stopped raining, making it the perfect day to skip writing and be outside and it's most especially wonderful for everyone marching in the Pride parade today.
So, happy marching and happy roof-topping, and happy writing to all those writers like me working down a deadline.
xoxo
I think this best desk was empty because it finally stopped raining, making it the perfect day to skip writing and be outside and it's most especially wonderful for everyone marching in the Pride parade today.
So, happy marching and happy roof-topping, and happy writing to all those writers like me working down a deadline.
xoxo
AMV
When I was a teenager, I was absolutely convinced that every other teenager every other place was having a much better time of it than I was.
It was clear to me that every other teenager in the entire universe spent their days in perfectly pegged pants that never came unpegged on the way to English. They didn't start 9th grade with two great big gaps in their teeth because a sadistic dentist pulled two baby teeth before their time, and the grown-up ones refused to come in. They didn't start tenth grade with 'clear braces' that turned yellow as soon as you ate a bag of Dorito's. Everybody else was busy getting straight A's, kissing boys, having real friends instead of 'book friends', wearing Esprit, getting big boobs and understanding fractions. Everybody else was allowed to wear black to places other than funerals.
If I had read this article from the Times when I was 14, I would have locked myself in my room and cursed the heavens for accidentally delivering me to a little apple town in Massachusetts instead of Hollywood, where I (so obviously!) belonged.
Oh, woe was me (flutters back of hand dramatically to forehead).
Thinking about this made me realize that my goals as a writer and as a mom are the same - to never forget how big the joys and heartaches of being a kid can feel. Wait. Not even how big these feelings 'can feel' -- but how big they actually *are*. I try to remember is that just because you can look back and laugh at the trauma of not having teeth, it doesn't mean the actual moment didn't really bite. Bah-dum-dum :)
xoxo
AMV
So yesterday I was taking a little brain break from writing, and my mind wandered and I started thinking about King Kong. The movie remake, not the original. And not actually the movie, but the preview they ran with that song Fix You by Coldplay. Just thinking about the preview made me get a little weepy and I thought, maybe I should find that song and listen to it. Now why I would actively go find a song that I knew would make me cry can be explained by the bacon egg and cheese sandwich and the Kit Kat I'd eaten earlier. Some people call it PMS, I prefer to call it Lady Fever. As in "I'm suffering from the Lady Fever. I need junk food, sad songs, and yoga pants immediately or I might die."
Ten minutes and two plays of the song later, I was a weepy mess, crying at my computer. My poor main character paid the price by almost drowning and surviving only because 'lights will guide you home' proving that I am way too suggestible to listen to music while I write.Now I must go find chocolate to break my Lady Fever before it breaks me.
xoxo
AMV
OMG! Two new Agatha Christie stories discovered!
When I was a teenager I went through a huge Christie fangirl faze that found me wrapped in an afghan in an armchair, drinking very sweet and milky tea, and positively devouring book after book about Poirot and Miss Marple. I still adore her books, and always dive into the basket full of paperback copies of her novels when I'm at the beach.
Remembering the many cups of tea I drank reminds me of how I used to eat tons of Wonder bread with grape jelly while watching Black Beauty on PBS.
Anyone else have particular food plus media combinations?
xoxo
AMV
If only it were that easy.
Does she run up the steps two at time?
Crawl on her hands and knees, grinding sticky grit into her palms and kneecaps?
Does she jazz dance her way up, doing Rockette kicks on every landing?
On Saturday I finally managed to write her to the surface, and I feel like I carried her every step of the way.
Tonight, she makes her way to school. Walk? Taxi? I swear if she decides to go back into the subway I'm going to kill her.
xoxo
AMV
Giant cheetos!!!
| April 30, 2009 | Leaps and Bounds, Fits and Starts: The Evolution of a Children’s Book Writer |
 With Neil Gaiman, Mariken Jongman, and Shaun Tan; moderated by Andrea Davis Pinkney |
Great article today from Shelftalker on how authors can - and should - support their local independent bookstore.
Here's our local Indie, Word, the sweetest little bookshop that ever was.
I've never participated in Poetry Friday before, and I'm not exactly sure how it works. Or maybe this *is* how it works - you post about poetry on a Friday and boom - it's Poetry Friday!
My husband is a poet. And for the past several years he has been the co-editor of the much loved online poetry journal Le Petite Zine along with our friend, poet Danielle Pafunda.
They've decided to move on to other projects, so this new issue is their last.
So, in honor of the last issue and poetry Friday, here's the begining of his poem Pantone Black 3 U. The full poem can be found here
Pantone Black 3 U
In the perfect home you
unleash the trees at night
to play with their distant friends,
roam the forest and lose themselves.
The lawn is bright orange.
Birds fold scarves around the mailbox
which, catching a slight cough,
looks sick in the face.
Cars float by. Sound like a film projector
three rooms away.
Milk on the steps at eight.
Newspaper in the bushes. Newspaper reads,
Aloha All, and little yellow Post-Its
mark every piece of furniture:
salad fork, mantle, bedroom mirror, den lamp, steps.
The phone rings and it's your parents,
there is a problem, they love you too much
and want you to move back.
The towels are a color just right.
Dogs use the doorknob and tell secrets to the neighbors:
xoxo
AMV
That's not totally true. I've been chin-deep in the world of GIGI LANE, and I'm not so talented as to be able to switch-hit between the worlds of disgraced teen queen and walking dead girl.
I'm waiting for Gigi's copy edits and I'm already getting that last-week-of-camp feeling, where I know the end is near and I worry that summer will end before doing and saying everything I want to do and say. The the thought of it going off to the printing press and me suddenly realizing I've forgotten something makes my skin all creepy crawly.
Am I the only one that feels like a book isn't finished until you're told it's finished by seeing it on a bookshelf? Oh. I guess it must be done, then.
I have two and a half months to complete the first. Hopefully, I'll be doing most of that writing at the Writer's Room. I hope their lack of toddlers, closing times, and giant plates of pancakes will make it very conducive to writing.
Also, my adorable upstairs neighbors are listening cheerful Polish music so loud our ceiling is vibrating.
xoxo
AMV
Doesn't this art exhibit just seem like the perfect set-up for an opening murder on Law & Order?
"So people just come in and watch her sleep?"
"I guess waking up wasn't part of the act."
DUN-DUN!
I do not.
When I confessed this to the very nice bartender he gave me a sample of an unbeerlike beer and I made a truly embarrassing 'icky!' face and asked for a diet coke.
I loved the event -- there were chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting and multi-colored sprinkles, it was a chance to see Maria and Sarah, two of the loveliest librarians you'll ever meet, Michael Northrop and I got to make fun of ourselves for being the maladjusted teen authors hiding by the sign-in table, AND I got to see my friend Suz who told me that FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is being renewed for two more seasons. Be still my heart.
There were so many people that it was a bit overwhelming, but I was really happy to meet a writer called Wendy Lee, who wrote the book Happy Family (that's a book for GROWN UPs!) -- I'd read the first few pages in a bookstore last year and loved it, and after meeting Wendy I can't wait to read it. I also met Cathleen Bell, who wrote the supernatural novel YA Slipping. We did a book swap and I spent a truly freaky subway ride home reading the first two chapters.
I'm catching up on Gossip Girl, but our DVR is all tweaky, so the characters keep freezing mid-word, and sometimes they seem to jump across the screen like in The Ring.
FREEEAKY!
xoxo
AMV
The Desk Set - those sassy librarians who throw parties like only bookish girls can (Dance Dance Library Revolution anyone?) are hosting an event tonight at the Pacific Standard Bar in Park Slope.
Come chat it up with local writers and readers, bring books you want to pass on and trade them for books you can't wait to read.
Here's a list of who is planning to attend:
And here's the super cute flyer Sara Varon created for the event
Hope to see you there!
xoxo
AMV
I've been a bit under the weather, so I haven't had a chance to post about the amazing Books of Wonder event this past Sunday. You may know it as "The Biggest Teen Author Signing EVER!"
It was ridiculous! I can't imagine the happy freak-out I would have had if I got to go to this sort of thing as a teenager.
The actual signing was super fun, it was so heartening to see the enthusiasm of the teens, authors, parents, everyone. It was ridiculous! I can't imagine the happy freak-out I would have had if I got to go to this sort of thing as a teenager.
I fueled up for the event with a yummy lunch at City Bakery with fabulous authors Coe Booth, Sarah Darer Littman, and Meaghan McCafferty (with whom I shared a chocolate chip cookie that was surprisingly just "eh". Curse you Sex and the City for your false advertising!). Also at lunch -- two very funny teens - Sarah's daughter and a friend. There's a cute picture of all of us on Sarah's blog.
After lunch it was on to the event. Oh my gizzards there were SO many people there. I found my friend Suz and promptly lost her, then I found Robin Wasserman and managed to scare away some teens by trying to talk to them about Friday Night Lights.
Here's a picture I ganked from PW's slideshow of the signing.
Robin Wasserman and Melissa Walker were awesome table-mates!
And here's a picture of more authors than you could shake a stick at:
I'm all about the line-edit this weekend. And I'm all about finding alternatives for the word "says" which I, apparently, used 50 gazillion times in my ms. So for now on, no one will "say" anything. Everyone is going to chortle, snap, grumble, burp, hiccup, roar, giggle, whisper, mumble, curse or yodle.
xoxo
AMV
Come on, I know I'm not the only one that gets choked up by this preview!
Do you ever have one of those moments when someone in your family says or does something and you are like "OhmyGod, we are SO related!" (of course the opposite happens too, when someone you are related to does something like lock you out of the house in your socks in the devil's playground hours between school getting out and mom getting home).
Anyway!
My wicked awesome cousins Dani and Nikki and I are all apparently on the same quest: to find at-home versions of the clear book jacket protectors that make library books sooooo crinkly and shiny and delicious.
I am taking a shot in the dark here, that someone in my LJ world is either a big ol' dork like us, or a librarian. And no, dorky librarian is not redundant. Have you MET a librarian lately?! They put the sass in "ssshhhhh"!
So, does anyone have a suggestion of which library book covers we should use?
I *should* remember this, because I did a brief stint as a library assistant in high school. The librarians I assisted did not put the sass in sssshhh. They put the ssshhhh back in "sssshhhouldn't you be shelving books instead of reading Christopher Paul Curtis and eating lemonheads in the YA section?" Covering the new books was the best part of the job. It felt like magic. Alchemy, to be specific.
Oh!
And can someone please explain why I was not notified that Tim Riggins and Jason Street were going to filming scenes for Friday Night Lights right here in NYC?! I would really have liked to stalked to them. I mean talked to them. Or at least been in the background for one of those slow-motion scenes they showed in the previews where Tim Riggins in crossing the street in his Texas jeans and wind-blown hair, looking down the crowded the street with an expression of sultry awe.
All I'm saying, is give me a heads up next time so I can find the craft services table and be all "Oh, what's up Tim Riggins? You want a Red Vine? Can I make you an omelet or maybe brush your hair or something? Want to see my at-home collection of books with crinkly clear library covers? Just the Red Vines? Okay, then. Here, take two."
That wouldn't be creepy at all!
xoxo
AMV
