reeling and writhing

just call your life in

I promised James Bradley I would post this when he twittered in disbelief earlier this week that there are Twitter novels.  I'm quoting from the first chapter of Alexandra Johnson's Leaving A Trace: On Keeping A Journal, the first chapter of which can be found here.

This is the excerpt I've printed out and stuck in a commonplace book - James, N.B. the bolded section, which for some reason made me think of your raised eyebrows. I also like Mansfield's quoted remark at the end.

Ten million blank journals are sold annually in stationery stores alone. Two million in specialty stores. Thanks to secret passwords and specialized software, an estimated four million scribblers keep some form of journal on a computer. If the information age has spawned a hunger for connection (and privacy), so, too, a need for the quickest way to access interior life. Web sites pop up daily. Our accelerated global age has left little time to slow down and reflect. In Japan, for example, those too busy to keep journals phone in their entries. At the end of the month, a company sends a bound transcript.

Familiar with the statistics, I also know how hard it is for many to keep journals. Yet when I ask people, as I often do, who they wish had kept a diary, a torrent of names is unleashed — my mother, my husband, my sister, the uncle whom I'm named after, the father I never knew. Why then the resistance to keeping them ourselves? Virginia Woolf put her finger on it best perhaps, when she asked her own diary: "Whom do I tell when I tell a blank page?"; Whom does one write for? Oneself, of course. "True to oneself — which self" asked Woolf's friend and archrival, Katherine Mansfield. (In her journal, she confessed that a single day's "thousands of selves" made her feel like a hotel clerk busy handing keys to the psyche's "willful guests.")

you can love the life you're living

This meme requires me to attempt to describe my life, by title, in the books I've read so far in 2009. (Via Gwenda Bond.)

Strikes me as something best attempted in the last quarter of the year. For sure.

Describe yourself:
The Night Parrot
How do you feel?
Will It Be Funny Tomorrow, Billy?
Describe where you currently live:
The World Beneath
If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Brooklyn
Your favorite form of transport:
The Pages
Your best friend is . . . ?
The TV President
You and your friends are . . .?
The Ghost Poetry Project (or The Content Makers, depending on who you talk to).
What’s the weather like?
(A) Disgrace

Favourite time of day?
The Time We Have Taken
What is life to you?
A House Of Air

Your fear?
The Hunter ( in another year this would be Oblomov)
What is the best advice you have to give?
An Imaginary Life
Thought for the Day?
Indignation
How I would like to die:
Things We Didn't See Coming
My soul’s present condition?
Look Who's Morphing

telling a terrible story and it doesn't diminish his glory

'Bill always said examine the writer, not the man. But I am emotional and I can’t help examining both.'

Bukowski, unplugged. Oh, man, it's good. Hurray for Maud Newton and her mighty blog. There are a couple more excerpts from the source, here.

visualise this

Times Online business correspondent Leo Lewis is looking forward to the upcoming publication of Das Kapital in a manga version in Japan in early December:

Japanese publishers have historically used cartoons to explain thorny diplomatic relations with China, advanced wine-tasting and even the spread of bird flu: the manga version of Das Kapital takes on even the toughest concepts thrown up in the original, from “commodity fetishism” to the precise process by which “the expropriators are expropriated”.

The comic is expected to sell tens of thousands of copies in its first weeks on sale, but is up against stiff competition: anti-capitalist books are the hottest sellers in capitalist Japan at the moment, and it will take something extraordinary to beat the sales of Hideki Mitani’s Greedy Capitalism and the Self Destructiveness of Wall Street.

Link via The Literary Saloon at the Complete Review.

do my dreaming and my scheming

This has to be one of the nicest posts in this series that I have read so far, along with Philip Hensher's, who may have sympathised with Kipling on the uses and abuses of a designated writing space.

"We've been in this house over 40 years and I'm 79 years old, so this room is full of my past. ". Alvarez issues a warning about helpful cleaners, and admits to playing poker online if his work is not going well.

Those of you who have been keeping up with the series will of course have seen this, and this (which you will no doubt remember next time you see a crowded desk.)

meme-a-rama

They are coming out my ears. This one, from Mark, is the 'open the book nearest to you at page 123 and write down the fifth sentence' meme.

"Verstehe nicht, she said."

Now if I was a really tough individual, I'd say, 'guess what it's from, HAHA, HAHA!'

But no. It's from Tim Parks' Cleaver, which I am ashamed to say I picked up for a song from the Melbourne University professional bookshop's sinbin on Monday, along with a copy of Gail Jones' Sixty Lights, A.L. Kennedy's Day and a book by David Malouf which I was going to use for this meme before dinner, but which my son has decided belongs elsewhere.

I can't remember the name of it, and now I can't even see it. I loved The Great World so much when I read it earlier this year that the Malouf came easily into my hand - and has gone walkies, but the point of this activity being that the book must be close to you has to be maintained. So, Cleaver, from the new bargain books pile, it is. (He tried to swipe Cleaver while I was typing this, too, but I said "OI." )

Tim Parks is someone I became interested in after reading a profile that described him as a writer who has managed to build a reputation without appearing at festivals or being interviewed for (ahem) profiles.

He eschews giving bits of himself away, arguing that they distract from the books, which include 'narrative' and other essays, a study of Italian translations of the English modernists, many English translations from Italian and three other books of non-fiction.

There is some information on his website about five of his eleven novels (where are the others? one wonders), including this from the Irish Times about Cleaver:

' Never has the need to empty one's mind been as convincingly, or as brilliantly, illustrated as in Tim Parks's full-blooded Cleaver. In a career spanning more than 20 years, and 13 novels, this most deliberate and underrated of English writers has consistently entered the more unattractive corners of human consciousness, with increasingly sophisticated and mature results.

Never overly concerned with style, he is instead a no-nonsense writer who invariably has something to say and tends to say it with robust candour, few apologies and a mastery of controlled indignation.'

There's also news that he is preparing a new translation of Machiavelli's Prince for Penguin, due for publication in 2009. What an intriguing fellow. I am excited, it's almost as good as Brian Moore coming back to life. I can hope so, anyway. The mise-en-scene of Cleaver has more than a sniff of the peerless Moore about it.

I have only read 35 pages of Cleaver, as I am still finishing Hanif Kureishi's Something To Tell You. So I have not read the rest of page 123.

But if the next 87 88 pages are as terse and compelling as the first 35, I will get there very speedily indeed.

(The Malouf is Child's Play. I've just found it in a completely different spot - maybe it was me?) Do consider yourself tagged, if this is your fancy.

i do love a good book deal

I went and commented on this post when I first saw it in my reader, then revisited after Maud linked to it. There are now 350-odd comments, and they make for good reading for anyone who was interested in the State Library's Text Appeal literary speed-dating events in early 2007.

I have managed to find Marieke Hardy's fabulous article about this too - no surprise that our royal Ms Fits has cracked an International Bloggie, either. About bloody time. And what a funny blog awards page, no permalinks??? that freaking page goes on forever.

Anyway. Rachel Donadio's NY Times article, which she refers to in her post, is also quite funny:

For most people, love conquers literary taste. “Most of my friends are indeed quite shallow, but not so shallow as to break up with someone over a literary difference,” said Ben Karlin, a former executive producer of “The Daily Show” and the editor of the new anthology “Things I’ve Learned From Women Who’ve Dumped Me.” “If that person slept with the novelist in question, that would probably be a deal breaker — more than, ‘I don’t like Don DeLillo, therefore we’re not dating anymore.’”

All important material to consider, if you feel a row over The Corrections is brewing between you and a loved one sometime soon. (And I'm not suggesting that's the subject of the last link, either - it's just a damn good post on that book, and other matters.)

september I remember

World's longest INSTALLED novel. (Link via Ben Dooley at The Millions.)

I saw Lee Miller's photos at the Monash Gallery of Art recently. Among several that were astounding, the shot of Miller in Hitler's bath, with the dust of Dachau rubbed firmly into the bathmat, was the one I returned to more than twice. Ali Smith discusses Lee Miller's photography and writing in The Guardian this week.

Speaking of light and shade - Grand Text Auto comes recommended by Christy Dena of Cross Media Entertainment, and I am really enjoying this addition to my RSS reader, especially when catching up on things like this.

The State Library of Victoria gets a mention in here, just after a shot of the Sorbonne's library.
Way to go. And yes, the crowd at Curious Expeditions do credit Candida Höfer's magnificent tome for some of these pictures (which is where I've seen them before.) As well as offering a link to a Flickr account. (Link from the ALIA New graduates mailing list.)

I'd like to see Nabs try this.

In the last of the Melbourne Writers' Festival news, David Prater covers his session with John Tranter, and the Speakeasy at AWM Online is going to be a regular reporting spot for writers' festivals down the coast -they did Byron a few weeks back, and now they're doing Brisbane. So do watch that space.

all our elvises have come at once

Found 'in an unguarded moment...'
investigating NoveList, a database for selecting books based on readers' preferences which is syndicated to Victorian public libraries and has some intriguing subject headings,
I found that under "Elvis Presley impersonators" there are 21 books listed!!

So for all those fans of the Elvis masqueraders, wherever you may be, here's a taste of what's out there. (Abstracts from NoveList, except where reviews are acknowledged.)

Duff, Gerald      
That's all right, Mama: a novel (1995)
Publishers Weekly Review:

'Serious literary fiction about Elvis? You bet! Duff's (Graveyard Working) transcendent prose swings and sways, whoops and moans in pulsating cadences reminiscent of the King. The hilariously pedantic introduction is a setup for the "manuscript" that follows: the wry, gritty and profoundly moving autobiography of Elvis's identical twin brother, who allegedly died at birth. Jesse Garon Presley relates how, from his earliest childhood, half-crazy mother Gladys lavished all her attention and affection on Elvis. Brought up as Elvis's "cousin" (although Mama calls on Jesse to stand in for his twin from time to time), Jesse is left to his own devices-tinkering with cars and, later, hanging out in juke joints in Memphis and nearby Alabama. Jesse tells how it was he, not Elvis, who made the first recording at Sun Studio, and how, much the better dancer, he doubled for the burned-out "Bubba" on the Ed Sullivan Show and in the performance of the title song in Jailhouse Rock. Although he hides from Elvis for years at a time, Jesse can't keep from filling in for him-even as a husband to Priscilla-when asked. The ultimate irony is that, after his famous twin dies, Jesse is still not free to be himself: he ends up as an Elvis impersonator. A rich and well-realized tale, even for readers to whom August 16 (Elvis's death date) is just another day.'
 
George, Anne   
Murder boogies with Elvis (2001)
'Enjoying their golden years, amateur sleuths Mary Alice and Patricia Anne are delighted to be invited to a benefit, but their fun turns deadly when an Elvis impersonator takes a fatal dive into the band and the sisters must find a killer before it is too late.' New York: W. Morrow, 2001, 243 p.
 
Henderson, William McCranor   
Stark raving Elvis (1997)
Byron Bluford is a down-and-out factory worker with a dream--to somehow recapture that one shining moment of his life when he debuted his Elvis impersonation at the high-school talent show
 
Douglas, Carole Nelson   
Cat in a jeweled jumpsuit (1999)
(Sounds like a suitable sequel for "That Darn Cat" - GT).
'Midnight Louie, feline detective, and his human partner, Temple Barr, take on a mysterious case involving death threats, ghosts, and the King himself--Elvis Presley.'

Christie, Amanda (Children's book)    
Lucy's angel (2001)
In which one of the protagonists ends up riding around Vegas with an EI.   
   
Levy, Elizabeth, (Children's )   
Mystery of too many Elvises, The (2003)
'When they decide to hold an Elvis impersonation act starring Fletcher, Jill's hound dog, for the school pet talent show, Gwen and Jill are shocked when Fletcher goes missing, thus beginning the search to find the culprit.'

Koslowski, Rich   
The King (2005)
'A very enigmatic Elvis impersonator takes the Vegas strip--and the world--by storm, but when a former tabloid journalist makes it his personal mission to find out The King's true identity, he discovers much more than he bargained for. Mature.'

 
Macpherson, Suzanne
She woke up married (2005)
'In Las Vegas to "celebrate" her dreaded thirtieth birthday, Paris James wakes up after an evening of overindulgence to discover herself in bed with--and married to--a sexy Elvis impersonator. Original.'

And that's not all. There's a subject heading in NoveList for 'Barbeque cooking' (of course it's listed near 'Elvis impersonators'. Of course.) Not to mention 'Women restaurateur detectives'...

BTW it's really reeling and writhing

From the VP of library software company SirsiDynix, Stephen Abram,  comes this link to a study from the University of Toronto which has found that SMS may not be as destructive to the foundations of English as was previously thought.

A two-year study of more than one million words of text messaging between 71 Toronto teens found their unique shorthand not only forms just 2.4 per cent of their online dialogue, it also shows a versatility and adaptability that may actually strengthen their command of the language.

So, while the groundbreaking research may not lead concerned parents to lol, University of Toronto sociolinguist Sali Tagliamonte insists, when it comes to angst about the English skills of the 80 per cent of Canadian teenagers who use instant messaging, they should, like, chill.

and rebecca thought she had ADD

Rebecca Blood provides a link to a fascinating report ín the New York Times on a study of office workers' patterns of interruption which puts much of the blame on computer hardware design. It seems that the more windows you have open on one monitor, the more stressed your short-term memory becomes. (And I thought that was middle age...)

According to researchers Gloria Mark and Mary Czerwinski, the monitor may in fact act as a bottleneck, causing us stress as we strive to remember what else we have open, and what we have to do next:

Some experts argue that the basic design of the computer needs to change: so long as computers deliver information primarily through a monitor, they have an inherent bottleneck - forcing us to squeeze the ocean of our lives through a thin straw. David Rose, the Cambridge designer, suspects that computers need to break away from the screen, delivering information through glanceable sources in the world around us, the way wall clocks tell us the time in an instant. For computers to become truly less interruptive, they might have to cease looking like computers. Until then, those Post-it notes on our monitors are probably here to stay.

Professionals who follow work management guru David Allen's advice about managing technology -induced stress are known as 'life hackers', and technology writer Danny O' Brien discusses his interest in them:

At the core of Allen's system is the very concept of memory that Mark and Czerwinski hit upon: unless the task you're doing is visible right in front of you, you will half-forget about it when you get distracted, and it will nag at you from your subconscious. Thus, as soon as you are interrupted, Allen says, you need either to quickly deal with the interruption or - if it's going to take longer than two minutes - to faithfully add the new task to your constantly updated to-do list. Once the interruption is over, you immediately check your to-do list and go back to whatever is at the top.

"David Allen essentially offers a program that you can run like software in your head and follow automatically," O'Brien explains. "If this happens, then do this. You behave like a robot, which of course really appeals to geeks."

O'Brien summed up his research in a speech called "Life Hacks," which he delivered in February 2004 at the O'Reilly Emerging Technology Conference. Five hundred conference-goers tried to cram into his session, desperate for tips on managing info chaos. When O'Brien repeated the talk the next year, it was mobbed again. By the summer of 2005, the "life hacks" meme had turned into a full-fledged grass-roots movement. Dozens of "life hacking" Web sites now exist, where followers of the movement trade suggestions on how to reduce chaos. The ideas are often quite clever: O'Brien wrote for himself a program that, whenever he's surfing the Web, pops up a message every 10 minutes demanding to know whether he's procrastinating. It turns out that a certain amount of life-hacking is simply cultivating a monklike ability to say no.

Strategies for managing short term memory loss induced by the computer's inflexibility here range from military aircraft-like dashboards and large plasma TV size monitors to Merlin Mann's low-tech PDA, manufactured from 3"X5" index cards, which he has christened the "Hipster PDA".

( Enjoy the leading life hacker's website, won't you. I've just finished reading Scott Andrews' excellent post there, on how I would have been living now if I'd kept singing at weddings. And here's one seriously obsessed fan of index cards' take on (gulp) customising them with a computer. I confess, I came THIS close to buying index cards plus box last week for writing ideas.)

A lot of this reminds me of some reading I came across very early in library school regarding a study done of doctors in a prominent US hospital, who were asked if they would use a computer laid out in the shape of a large desk, with documents displayed as virtual piles of paper...Of course I'll quote it in full when I remember where I've put the article!!

gulag feng shui should be a googlewhack ( surely)

Not really news any more, but still an amusing story courtesy of Mark Sarvas at TEV ( who has his own great news coming up, check in soon for his interview with John Banville).

I remember wondering how Bruce Chatwin got any work done at all when I read the Clapp biography and found out how particular he was about having interesting places to write in. Yep, I know I had a whinge on The Valve recently about this kind of fluff - so I'll wrap up by remarking that Beckett, who made a habit of confining his characters for all sorts of reasons, made a long walk a feature of every writing day...