Life Is a Mix Tape

Sometimes several wonderful moments come together and — like a great mix tape — become something even better.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Let’s get the squeals out of the way first: I chalked up my first liter-hottie moment of ’08. And this may be the best one yet: Rob Sheffield, author of Love Is a Mix Tape, inspiration for Mix Tape Fridays, grooviest man on the East Coast, high on my list of fantasy BFFs. Rob’s a writer for Rolling Stone — and, I found out tonight, he’s on a lot of those VH1 best-of list shows (I may start watching them now that I know that).

Rob did a reading at my friendly neighborhood Wordsmiths Books — the first event in the Baby Got Books Reading Series.

That lucky Baby Got Bookster Tim posted an interview he did with Rob Sheffield. Be sure to read it.

It was the biggest crowd I’ve seen at a Wordsmiths’ gathering. Granted, Rob has family here — but there were lots of fans lining the walls and snaking the shelves.

Rob read two chapters — “Sheena Was a Man” and “Roller Boogie” — adding asides and quips. He was cool, he was funny, he was entertaining. His comments about music made me giggle and swoon — in a music-geek way, of course. To hear Rob Sheffield wax poetic about the J. Geils Band, explain the brilliance of "Funky Cold Medina," sing the Pips' part in "Midnight Train to Georgia" was worth the price of the free ticket.

We loving lemmings then lined up to get our copies signed.

I stand in the presence of greatness.

Rob Sheffield was very cool as he signed our books. He took the time to chat, seemed genuinely flattered as we gushed over him — and actually seemed interested as I wildly explained how he had inspired the weekly mix tape posts. He even thanked me. How cute is that?

Why can’t I act my age and leave my hair alone?

But the thrills didn’t stop with the autograph, kids. I notched another blogger on the meet-up post: Paul from The Yellow Stereo (great music blog, if you haven’t clicked my link), who drove over from Auburn for the reading. We got to hang out, obsess, and share a beer post-reading. I never got around to our back-of-the-bloggerhead shot, so I’m running the photo I took of Paul with Rob Sheffield.


I nearly forgot! Look at the groovy USB stick I got tonight — it’s a stick with a mix-tape case! Rob Sheffield got one, too.



For more news coverage on the social event of the season, click over to BGB's post.

To summarize:
• Rob Sheffield: Cool
• Yellow Stereo's Paul: Cool
• Baby Got Books’ first event: Smashing success
• Cup: Geeky and ready to buy any unnecessary thing that looks groovy

* * * * * *

The Festival of Bookworms: The Cliff Notes Version

I hope you had a good holiday weekend. Chances are, unless you’re that wicca freak who won my lottery jackpot or you finally bedded that long-lusted love, my weekend was better than yours … because I spent my Saturday and Sunday at the second annual Decatur Book Festival.

The festival was better than I expected — and I had great expectations. Writers left and right. Shakespeare performed on the rotunda, poetry slams just steps away. Booths of books and small publishers and writers groups (and beer). Who wants to stay outside on a lovely day when you can go inside darkened halls and listen to authors talk and read their works? Not this wormish woman.

At any given afternoon moment, there were five readings or panels. Not quite a Sophie’s choice, but decisions such as whether to see Hollis Gillespie or Peter Case were tough — which was, in a way, rather thrilling because it meant there were a lot of great writers hanging in my ‘hood this weekend.

Here are the weekend highlights.

Wesley Stace

Maybe you’re unfamiliar with the name, but you may know of his alter-ego’ed John Wesley Harding, a helluva great musician. Stace’s second novel, By George, was just published. His grandfather was a ventriloquist in England during the middle twentieth century, and half the book is narrated by George, his grandfather’s dummy. Yes, Stace tracked it down, and George is touring with him.

Wesley Stace, on stage with George

I got tweener giggles as I walked into the room — Wesley Stace was chatting with Sherman Alexie as I walked by. They both smiled — probably because I had that “golly!” look on my face and kept sneaking peeks at them. I’m such a dork.

This was the first proper long reading of the book, and Stace did a great job with the reading. He was adorable — very British, very charming and witty. Oh, and he’s cute as hell — and he pronounces “papier-mâché” the British way (also the French way, I assume), which made my toes curl. He did a ventrilo-bit with George, which was fun since Stace has no skills in that area.

His John Wesley Harding self was scheduled to perform that evening, so I looked forward to a tale of two Wesleys.


Sherman Alexie

Alexie has been on my top-thirty shelf since I first read The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven in 1993, right after I started working at the bookstore. If you haven’t read him, you should. Maybe you saw the movie Smoke Signals, which was based on those stories.

The worst photo of Sherman Alexie … ever

Catching his appearance was at the top of my festival must list. And Sherman didn’t disappoint. He was personable and funny, alive when he read from his soon-to-be-released young adult novel, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian. This was his first public reading of the book (we got a lot of those this weekend), so he called his editor so we could all yell hello and took a photo of us.

I picked up a copy of his new book, Flight, earlier Saturday, and read it Sunday morning. Great book.

He took a lot of questions from the audience, sharing parts of himself such as he writes in his head 24/7 (just like I do!) and telling us how he found his poet’s soul in college. I walked out of the sanctuary smitten; two for two for the day.

I almost forgot*: As he was signing my copy of Flight, Sherman sang Kiss’ “Beth” to me. I’ve hated that song since it came out in 1976 … that is, I hated it until 6:12 p.m. Saturday.

*Do you really believe I almost forgot that tidbit?


Wordsmiths Books Panel: Blogging

I got to Wordsmiths a bit late, thanks to enjoying a burger and beer with Scrivener and Mike, but I saw the last fifteen minutes. Wish I’d made it in time; they were paneling about blogging.

I stole this from Baby Got Books; that’s Tim with the microphone.

Later that same evening …

I was excited about Wesley Stace as John Wesley Harding wowing me with his live music … but I ran into a former someone an hour before the show … who charmed me into a beer … which led to another beer … which, well, I had a lot of beer. And no John Wesley Harding ringing in my ears.

Sunday arrives. The simple plan was to hit the festival around noon, in time to see Edmund White, then Robert Olan Butler or Karen Abbott, but Alexie’s book kept me in the bed until I finished it around noon. Still had plenty of time to hit Klosterman. Hit the square an hour before he hit the stage, so I picked up an overpriced gyro and wandered the stalls, watched a bit of Shakespeare, bought even more books. And then I headed to the library, with ten minutes to spare.


Chuck Klosterman

Ten minutes, though, is too late for a Chuck Klosterman appearance. The room hit capacity, so we were led to an overflow room for a simulcast of the interview. Klosterman was thrilled — it was his first time being simulcast. Klosterman was interviewed by Paste magazine founder Josh Jackson (Paste’s HQ is a mile or so off the square).

Paste’s Josh Jackson interviewing Chuck Klosterman

I expected Klosterman to have a snarky, surly edge to him — but he wasn’t. He was funny and entertaining and excited to be talking. He talked about some of his better-known columns, including a good discussion on the Advanced Theory (that day’s example: R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet” — Klosterman said the video of him urinating on that young girl is the least weird of the bunch).

I saw Josh Jackson after Hollis Gillespie’s appearance, so I stopped to tell him he did a great job with the interview; he thanked me and said it was a lot of fun. What I really wanted to do was grab him by the knees and beg for a job at Paste, even as a proofreader. And yet I behaved, shy Cup that I am.

Klosterman had so much fun, he said he wouldn’t mind going over the allotted time to take more questions — but, alas, there was a schedule to follow.

Oh: He has yet to watch an episode of Real World: Sydney.


Hollis Gillespie

Do I even need to write it? Hollis Gillespie was funny and loopy — and inspiring. She appeared with some other blonde writer from Atlanta for a Q&A, and she kept the room laughing. She’s as disorganized a writer as I am — but she puts forth a bit more effort than I do outside my cubicle.

Hollis Gillespie signs my book.

Hollis wants to be my best friend — she just doesn’t know it yet:



She gave us the scoop on her first two books being optioned for television: Mitch Hurwitz, who wrote for "Arrested Development," is heading the project, with Laura Dern in the lead role. They're now shopping it around.

And ... Ms. Gillespie's third book will be published next year.

As I said, Hollis inspired me. She offers a series of writing classes here in town, and I told her I planned to sign up for one this fall. Keep me to that promise, okay? And you can one day say “I read her when” after I’ve become the next NPR star.


Aaron Petrovich

I first heard Aaron Petrovich read at Brooklyn Comes to Decatur, part of a writer’s conference held here in February. His novella is pure dialog — two men talking — and he performed a part of it then and on Sunday. And “performed” is meant here more than anywhere else on this page. It was more theater than reading. He’s captivating, and I’m now a fan. I didn’t take a photo of Aaron Petrovich because I didn’t want to distract him from his reading/performance. Too bad, because he’s damn cute. And that voice — *swoon*.

Petrovich is associate editor at Akashic Books, and I stopped by their booth earlier in the day. He recommended another book from the imprint … and I got to hear him speak. Nothing better than a handsome man with a sexy voice.


Later that same evening …

I was excited about finally seeing Peter Case perform — and meeting Intravenus de Milo’s Tony Alva — but the tug of the books was too strong. I opted for bed and a book; specifically, Wesley Stace’s By George.



Yep. I picked books over music.

* * * * * *

A Groupie’s Dream Weekend

For most of you, this Labor Day weekend will revolve around barbecues and boats and benders.

Not for me.

I’m spending the weekend hanging out in my neighborhood.



Writers both brilliant and banal will be at the Decatur Book Festival for readings, panel discussions, book signings — and to thrill my little bookwormed heart. Baby Got Books also has info on the weekend’s events.

If you love to read, why haven’t you visited Baby Got Books? The Tim formerly known as DJ Cayenne and the rest of his gang keep me up to date on the latest literary news — and their book reviews are quite good.

Here’s the schedule, with the wheres and whens. Map out your must-stops, and let’s plan a meet-up. I’ll have my cell for tracking purposes, if you have my digits.

Where can you find me?

Friday
8:00 p.m.: Kinky Friedman


Saturday
4:15 p.m.: Wesley Stace
5:30 p.m.: Sherman Alexie
7:00 p.m.: Wordsmiths Books panel* — with Baby Got Books’ Tim
8:00 p.m.: John Wesley Harding

*Not affiliated with the Decatur Book Festival, but it's happening in Decatur just around the corner from the bookish festivities.


Sunday
12:00 p.m.: Edmund White
1:00 p.m.: Hollis Gillespie and Roy Blount Jr. signings
1:15 p.m.: Karen Abbott or Robert Olen Butler
2:30 p.m.: Chuck Klosterman
3:45 p.m.: Hollis Gillespie or Peter Case
5:00 p.m.: Chuck Rosenthal + Aaron Petrovich
8:00 p.m.: Peter Case

* * * * * *

All the Cool Kids Are Doing It

This month’s book meme, that is. Bubs and Johnny Yen and Lulu have played, and I want to get invited to sit at their lunch table.

Here’s what you do:
• Grab the nearest book.
• Open to page 161.
• Find the fifth full sentence.
• Post the sentence.

From Tim Sandlin’s Skipped Parts:

The fantasy worked me up enough to do the tongue deal and even to touch Chuckette’s one shoulder.

Don't stop at that sentence. Read Sandlin’s GroVont series; you’ll thank me for it. Tim Sandlin is on my author top-ten list for many good reasons.

* * * * * *

She Meets a Hero (2007 version)

My deep love and obsession for arty types isn’t reserved for R.E.M. and musicians. I also nurture crushes on writers and books. I love to curl up with a novel and read it cover to cover in a day. And, well, a man who has a way with words makes me swoon.

Last summer I saw T. Coraghessan Boyle, and I floated on a T.C. bubble for days. (He liked my necklace.)

This year: Pulitzer Prize winner (and liter-hottie) Michael Chabon.

There were many discussions among friends on how to properly pronounce Chabon’s name. He says: “Cha as in Shea Stadium, bon as in Jovi.”

I became Chabon fan after reading The Mysteries of Pittsburgh in 1988. Wonder Boys, his second novel (later a great film by Curtis Hanson, starring Michael Douglas), cemented my devotion.



Still not sure who Michael Chabon is? He was on a memorable “Simpsons” this season (and he addressed his star-making turn during last night’s Q&A):



Michael Chabon was here to promote his new book, The Yiddish Policemen's Union. It was the social event of the book season — blog faves Scrivener and DJ Cayenne from Baby Got Books were spotted among the literati.

Chabon read from the new book, then opened the floor for questions. And there were decent questions this time. He was smart, he was charming, he impressed me. My only disappointment is it's too early in the a.m. to remember and share some of his interesting comments.

Yesterday was Chabon’s birthday (a cool day for birthing, huh, Randy?), and we Southeners can’t let a birthday slip by without a cake. The B&N kids were on the ball. But I didn’t get a piece of birthday cake … dammit.


We were then awarded with an audience with The Man. Chabon signed three of my books, chatted a few seconds (I gushed appropriately), and shook my hand. Here he is signing my books:

I left giddy and swooning.

Thrilled thanks go out to DJ Cayenne, who let me know about the Chabon appearance.

* * * * * *

Brooklyn Comes to Decatur

The Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference hits Atlanta this weekend, and there are some cool events happening all over town. Probably the coolest is Wordsmith Books’ Brooklyn in Decatur author event on Thursday, beginning at 7 p.m., at the Decatur Library (just around the corner from my lovely new abode). The event is featuring four hot Brooklyn-based authors. Cool, huh?

I’m going to be there. I even won books from my favorite Baby Got Books. You should be there.

And there’s beer!

For more information, check out Wordsmith Books’ blog.

* * * * * *

Pinch Me!

I’m going to hear Margaret Atwood tonight night at Emory University. In case you’re unfamiliar with her [and please don't tell me if you've never heard of her], she wrote Alias Grace, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Blind Assassin, Surfacing, Cat’s Eye, Lady Oracle, Life Before Man, The Robber Bride, and many more. I’ve loved her books for more than twenty-five years. Tonight she’s going to talk about her latest novel, The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus.

From Publishers Weekly:
Drawing on a range of sources, in addition to The Odyssey, Atwood scripts the narrative of Penelope, the faithful and devoted wife of Odysseus and her 12 maids, who were killed upon the master's return. Atwood proposes striking interpretations of her characters that challenge the patriarchal nature of Greek mythology. The chapters transition between the firsthand account of Penelope and the chorus of maids as listeners are taken from Penelope's early life to her afterlife. Laural Merlington charmingly delivers the witty and perceptive Penelope with realistic inflection and emphasis. Some of her vocal caricatures seem over the top, but most voices maintain a resemblance to our perceptions of these mythic people. The maids are presented as a saddened chorus by a cloning of Merlington's voice. These dark figures speak straightforwardly in their accusations of Penelope and Odysseus, while, at other times, they make use of rhyming. This format works well, though sometimes the cadence and rhyming scheme are off beat. This benefits the production by creating an eerie resonance and haunting demeanor that enhances this engaging tale.

I can’t wait to be in the same room with Margaret Atwood. I need to bask in her brilliance right now. I’ve been working on several short stories this summer, and last week I came down with a nasty case of the I’m-a-talentless-hackitis. I hope that hearing Ms. Atwood talk will inoculate me from my inner demons. I need inspiration and some ass-kicking; too much is riding on these stories.

Margaret Atwood. Isn’t she lovely?

Another night in the presence of literary greatness. T. Coraghessan Boyle in July, Richard Ford this fall. See, folks, we ain’t illiterate and culture-free down here in the South, even during college football season.

The purchase link used for The Penelopiad is for a local bookstore chain. Support the independents and buy a copy — or seven — from Chapter 11 Books. Powell's Books isn't the only independent selling online, kids.

* * * * * *

A Day in the Life, Part 2: She Meets a Hero

I saw T. Coraghessan Boyle last night. Heard him. Touched him. I didn’t go all five senses on him, though, (barely) restraining myself from sniffing or licking him.

T. Coraghessan was darling. Brilliant. Much more personable and charming (and taller) than I imagined. He started out talking about writing and his background and his process. He read the first chapter of Talk Talk (and did a great job reading it; not every writer can read his words well), then answered questions (keep reading for the answers to many of those questions).

I also learned how to pronounce his name: cor-RĂG-uh-son. (Mary, practice it in front of a mirror before the next visit, okay?)

He mentioned (as Rita Mae Brown once told me) that he finds it strange that his publisher rarely includes Atlanta on his book tours. This is a short tour — originally just seven cities, now expanded to thirteen — and he requested that Atlanta be among the seven.

Invisible Lizard: He wore red Chuck Taylors with his black pants, cool black T-shirt with silk-screened fish, and light blue sports coat. And the necklace he’s wearing on the Talk Talk cover.

We then queued up on the front porch of The Dump (the apartment house in which Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone with the Wind). He signed my book, warmly shook my hand and chatted me up a bit (he chatted with every person; very cool). He loved my necklace.

The book and the necklace:


I can’t quite make out what he wrote between my name and his; I think it reads “You’re a hot little minx, aren’t you?”

My Missed Opportunity

I’m dogsitting for my sister this weekend. She was a little anxious about my getting to her place so late, so I promised her I’d be there by 9 p.m. Got in line at 8 p.m. to have my book signed, so timing was good. Or, it appears, wasn’t. Behind me was this cute farmer/artist, with long, wavy black hair and a cute personality. He chatted and flirted and blushed when he looked me in the eyes. He told me about his crops, his books, why it wasn’t raining in Marietta, his favorite breakfast spot (he’s going to keep an eye out for me, because I simply must try it), and how close his farm is to my mother’s house. I wanted (oh, God, did I want) to ask him out for a drink … but my love for my canine nephew won out, and so I left alone. And spent the rest of my evening watching that beloved dog sleep on the couch.

Because I am a writer and a student of great writing (and because I’m one huge nerd), Professor Bastard will be glad to know that I took notes during T.C.'s chat. Among the things I learned from my Authorian hero:

• He disagrees with the basic writing adage. His writing adage: Write what you don’t know, and find something out.
• He does not think deep thoughts all the time, only when he’s writing. If you see him walking down the street, he’s probably thinking “Kill. Screw. Eat.”
• He usually comes up with the title of the book first.
• He had the idea of a book about identity theft, but couldn't get started once he completed his research. Then, he had an appointment with his recently divorced dentist, who kept talking about the hot deaf woman who had been in earlier ... and Dana and the Talk Talk story were born (with a nod to the dentist in the first chapter).
• His favorite of his novels: Water Music, his first
• He completed East Is East in a cabin in the mountains ... wrote the last word ... went for a hike to relax ... couldn't ... and came back in to write a short story.
• His first two novels each took three years to write. His latest, Talk Talk, took eight months (excluding research).
• He turns in a manuscript and that's what published. A little copy editing, that's it. His editor and publisher — both of whom he's been with since college (since college!) — don't bother it. They did, however, cut Dana's novella from the end of Talk Talk; that's now running in the current McSweeney's.
• He hasn’t watch television since 1972.
• He was a history major until he read a Flannery O’Connor story in an English class. He then became a history/English major.
• While attending the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, he was taught by or became friends with Raymond Carver, John Cheever, and John Irving.
• He writes every day. After he finishes the day’s writing, he reads it aloud to his (he claims, long-suffering) wife. He loves to listen to the meter of the words as they’re spoken aloud.
• As a professor at UCLA, he teaches just 39 days out of the year.
• His favorite writers writing today include Louise Erdrich (who doesn’t love her?) and his friend Richard Ford (who will be at the Margaret Mitchell house this fall).
• He does not like genre fiction because it’s flatly written. There’s no dimension, no beauty of the language.

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, was the beautiful end to two crappy days.

UPDATE: Click here for an interesting post on T.C. Boyle.

* * * * * *

Mark, T.C., and Me

The bookworm part of my being is dancing and twirling with excitement right now. I have two literary events this week — one that will be fun, one that will be thrilling — both at the Margaret Mitchell House, through the Center for Southern Literature.

The Fun: Tonight I’m off to hear a talk by Mark Childress, whose latest novel, One Mississippi, was released last week. (Note to self: Pick up a copy at lunch.) I’ve been to a couple of Childress readings, so I know it will be entertaining. You might be familiar with him through Crazy in Alabama (movie sucked; book was good). My favorite is Tender, about an Elvis-type character; in fact, it was reading Tender that turned me into the Elvis fan I am today (well, that coupled with my fateful Memphis trip with Simeon during the 1991 Elvis International Tribute Week).

The Thrill: Thursday it's a reception for and talk by T. Coraghessan Boyle, who’s peddling his new book, Talk Talk.

I know he goes by T.C. these days, and I know it’s not his birth name, but I love saying "Coraghessan." I’ve often fantasized about being his girlfriend, just so I could coo "Coraghessan" in his ear. So, in my world, he’s still T. Coraghessan Boyle.

Boyle has been on my top 25 authors list since I read East Is East in 1990. He’s a publishing machine these days. Didn’t I just finish The Inner Circle? (OK, that was two years ago, but it’s still sharp in my mind; I liked it that much.) And I have yet to crack the spine on Tooth and Claw. I cannot wait to see The Man and hear The Man. I imagine him to be a witty, brilliant, eccentric smart-ass — my favorite kind of man. And I think he's kind of cute.


I hope you’re jealous.

* * * * * *