Thursday, April 24, 2014

Where is my head?

Yikes. Obviously, I meant, book lover.

Oops!

Clearly this book (not bopk) didn't proofread the post below. Sorry 'bout that.

A bopk lover's treat


Booksellers love this book—for good reason. You will, too. That’s assuming that you love books and revere independent bookstores.

The Storied Life of AJ Fikry is set on an island (think:Nantucket or Martha’s Vinyard), where the sole independent bookstore is struggling. Maybe it’s because so many indys are struggling in our Amazon era. Or maybe it’s struggling because its owner, AJ Fikry, is often indifferent to customers and often drunk or hung over. A recent personal tragedy accounts for both. But Fikry is, in any case, by nature, cantankerous. He doesn’t take kindly to fools or customers who come looking for mass-market potboilers. And don’t get him started on e-readers or Amazon.

However, the arrival of an abandoned toddler begins to thaw this man’s frozen emotions. A note stuck in the baby’s basket says: "I want her to grow up to be a reader. I want her to grow up in a place with books and among people who care about those kinds of things."

Improbably, Fikry becomes a caring, if inexpert, parent, whose sense of responsibility for his daughter pushes him toward a more enthusiastic and successful role as bookseller to the island. No sentimental, goopy stuff here, though: Fikry remains mildly cranky. And, just as he begins to admit optimism, new obstacles rattle his happiness.

Musings on favorite books—in the style of the typical “staff notes”—preface each chapter. Each is intriguing in its own right, although the composite meaning of these notes isn’t revealed until the book’s end.

The author Gabrielle Zevin is better known for her young adult novels and screenwriting. This novel feels like a breakthrough for her, and the response in the industry and from reviewers has been uniformly enthusiastic. The Storied Life of AJ Fikry is a modest tale and wholly engaging. Especially if you love books. (And you wouldn’t be reading this blog if you didn’t!)


Friday, April 4, 2014

working in a bookstore--the fantasy and the reality


I’m taking a wild guess here—but I imagine that 90% of all writers have, at one time, fantasized about working in a bookstore.

You know the dream: getting to read all those ARCs and discovering the next great book, chatting up like-minded literary customers, leisurely wandering among all the stacks, deciding which book to take home to review. Ah, and if your dream store includes a café, sipping afternoon coffee or tea with a visiting author.

I hate to burst the bubble. But, as I found out during my one dip into retail bookselling, it is hard work. Hard physical work—hefting cartons of books up from the basement, breaking down cardboard boxes and carting them to the dumpster. Hard mental work—learning a new computer system for checkout and looking up obscure titles. And hard emotional work (at least for the introverts among us)—remaining unfailingly polite and helpful even when your feet ache from hours of standing and you’d really rather catch up on unpacking cartons than make small talk with yet one more customer who just wants to chat, not necessarily buy. (And let’s not even talk about the rats who snap photos of book covers with their smartphones so they can order on Amazon later.)

But those lessons were all ahead of me when I got the invitation to work part-time for a couple of months at my local bookstore, McIntyre’s Books in Fearrington Village near Chapel Hill. A valued employee was taking some family leave, and they needed someone to fill in over the Christmas holidays. Would I (a fan of the bookstore and frequent customer) be interested? Would I? You bet!

I started with enthusiasm, and appreciated the staff’s support and training, from the incredibly hard-working owner Keebe Fitch (she hoped to turn me into a bookselling Ninja—alas, I never lived up to that expectation); manager Pete Mock, mystery guru extraordinaire and, behind his grumpy persona, one of the kindest guys ever; and Katherine Pinard, who, with great patience and a sense of humor, showed me the ropes before she left for her brief Sabbatical.

To be fair to myself, I was pretty good at “hand selling”—encouraging customers to consider this or that favored book. And I had a good attitude, taking to heart the store’s mantra of positive customer service. But the computer system sometimes baffled me, and a couple of sales disappeared into cyberspace forever. The hard physical work, even for a part-timer, surprised me.

I came away from my experience with a renewed appreciation for what it takes to run a successful independent bookstore. The old clichĂ© comes to mind: ducks appearing to sail serenely on a pond, while paddling madly under the surface of the water. Considerable work and nonstop attention to books and customers are critical to an indy’s success. Basically, you have to love what you do to make it worthwhile.

And the McIntyre’s team does. And it shows. This month, they celebrate 25 years of being in business—an impressive achievement for any small bookstore. Hats off to you, McIntyre’s, for working hard to make it look easy!

http://www.fearrington.com/village-shops/mcintyres-books/

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Two love stories


Wait—don’t hit the delete button!

These are not what you might think from the title. No mo ros, no heaving bosoms and intense, brooding heroes.

Rather, these are love stories that seem vibrant and real.

The first is The Wind Is Not a River by Brian Payton. It’s the kind of novel that stirred tension: I wanted to read it fast, compulsively, because it was so gripping—and I wanted to slow down to savor the language and to delay reaching the end.

The basic story revolves around the determined efforts of a journalist to learn more about World War II activity on the Aleutian Islands. Military efforts to black out any news of the conflict between Americans and Japanese on American soil—perceived as the possible first step in an invasion of the United States—stymie but do not deter John Easley. Taking on the identity of a Canadian airman, he hops a USAF reconnaissance flight to learn more about action in the Aleutians.

The plane crashes, he parachutes to safety on the beach—although safety is only an illusion. Japanese soldiers are camped nearby, but the greater danger is starvation, bitter cold, and mind-alerting isolation.

Determination also describes John’s wife, Helen, who sloughs off her passive mode waiting for John to return. Despite having no background in song and dance, she manages to join a USO group heading to Alaska to entertain American troops. Her real intention is to find her husband, who is missing and may be a prisoner of war or dead.

The ways in which these two people fight their own battles, physical and emotional, testify to their impressive strength of character and devotion to each other. It’s hard not to root for these two decent people to overcome obstacles and reunite.

The second book is Still Life with Crumbs, Anna Quindlen’s latest novel. She gives us a heroine who is too rarely depicted in fiction: a late middle-aged, long-divorced woman, strong and creative, yet dogged by worries of plummeting income and, even more worrisome, possibly disappearing artistic skills.

There’s an unlikely love interest, a man who draws Rebecca Winter into a welcome friendship after she moves to a small town to reduce her living costs. She begins as an outsider, isolating herself by choice and circumstance, but she discovers, over time, that the bonds of community enrich rather than constrain her life. And although the slow-evolving romance is central to this story, the more gripping tale is Rebecca’s rediscovery of her well of creativity.

The novel’s tone is wry and honest—no treacly feel-good stuff here. Instead, Still Life depicts an honest, winning portrayal of a woman plagued with money worries and self-doubt, full of flaws. As readers, we worry about her and cheer her success in love and art.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

E-books--a grudging appreciation


Usually, I’m the curmudgeon who grumps about e-books, but I’m coming around to the view that they do have their advantages—especially for writers.

One example: Jim Conaway, a fine writer who excels in both fiction and nonfiction, recently released most of his work online. He explains: “E-books are satisfying for a writer because they open up a past thought dead and, well, published. In fact, these stories were just waiting to be re-discovered, also the inspiration, the places, the characters, even the paper trails leading to their creation.”

Jim is a friend from my college days. After studying a year at Stanford as a Wallace Stegner Writing Fellow in the early 1960s, he took up journalism, first, as a newspaper reporter in New Orleans, later as a freelance writer based in Europe, and then as wine critic for The Washington Post. In recent years, he’s concentrated on long-form journalism, writing for The National Geographic, The New York Times, Harpers, and Gourmet. In addition to three novels, he’s published nine books of nonfiction and a memoir about growing up in his hometown of Memphis in the 1950s.

My favorite of his nonfiction work is Vanishing American: In Search of Our Elusive Landscape, essays he describes as being about “lost culture and landscape.”  But perhaps Jim’s best-known book is Napa:  The Story of an American Eden, which stirred both controversy and admiration. It, and its sequel, The Far Side of Eden: Old Land, New Money, and the Battle for Napa Valley, are required reading for anyone interested in the real story of American viticulture. Jim’s latest foray into this country is Nose, a satiric novel that punctures the pretentiousness of Napa culture and celebrates the innovators who make fine wine and also protect the environment.

Jim began a blog in 2012, musing on wine, winemakers, and a few other things that catch his attention. Recognizing how powerful the Internet was in reaching readers, he recentely decided to harness its power by releasing some of his books, long out of print, online. Collectively, his books are an impressive body of work, and the online versions invite new readers to dip into his writing. Check out his blog and the site for his work:

In another example of the benefits of ebooks, my brother, Mike Cavender just self-published, at age 68, his first novel through the CreateSpace platform (a division of Amazon).  Although Mike also started out as a newspaper reporter, his career has been less linearly literary. He’s embraced the natural world as a fly fishing guide and as director of a land trust in the North Carolina mountains. But the urge to tell stories burbled up, and he’s been working on short stories and novels for a few years now.

Impatient to get his first novel out, after years of revising and polishing and learning, he decided to skip the time-consuming, and possibly fruitless, search for an agent. So, he self-published his novel, Revenge on the Fly, and has been working hard to build his audience—which is small, but growing, mostly through word-of-mouth and strong reviews on Amazon. He’s learned, to his chagrin, that many independent bookstores won’t take the book, because of its association with Amazon, indy bookstores’ natural enemy. A few—notably FlyLeaf Books in Chapel Hill and Park Road Books in Charlotte—have liked the book and taken a chance on it. But Mike’s main outlet is Amazon, where his sales are running about 1:3 ebooks and print books. For more, check Mike’s Amazon listing and his blog on politics and writing:




Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Real Ann Patchett


OK, I have to admit it: Ann Patchett intimidates me. She is a prolific writer (six novels, two nonfiction books), successful (PEN/Faulkner award, Orange award, glowing reviews), and she owns an independent bookstore (surely the fantasy of most readers and maybe a few writers).
Now, she’s gone and published a terrific collection of nonfiction pieces—essays that reveal her to be brave, vulnerable, funny, generous, compassionate, and hardworking.
The intriguingly declarative title, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, might lead you to expect a treacly memoir. Nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, she does tell you about her winding path to meeting Mr. Right (actually, Dr. Right) and resisting him for years before she finally agrees to marriage—an institution she’s always regarded as dangerous. (She explains her reluctance: “I figured that if I never got married, I’d never get divorced.”).
Most of the essays were previously published in magazines like Granta, Harper’s, Bark, Vogue, and the New York Times Magazine, which give you an idea of her professional stature. Patchett is perhaps best known for her novels, but this collection of nonfiction shows the range of her work and style.
She writes about topics that could veer toward the sentimental—her deep love for her dog, Rose, her compassionate caretaking of her grandmother who’s sinking into dementia—but her economy of style and open-heartedness pack an emotional wallop.
Patchett travels for magazine assignments and book tours, but her heart is in Nashville—the very place she longed to escape in her youth. Now, it’s home. So, it’s only natural that, when the remaining two bookstores in the city close their doors, she decides that Nashville needs an independent bookstore—and she’s the one to make it happen. “The Bookstore Strikes Back,” Patchett’ tale of opening Parnassus Books (with co-owner Karen Hayes), will gratify readers and indy bookstore fans everywhere.
Moreover, in promoting Parnassus, Patchett discovers that she has, inadvertently, assumed the role as spokesperson for independent book stores everywhere. Through interviews, appearances on television shows like The Colbert Report, talking to readers, she is adamant on the subject: bookstores are not dead. She writes: “Now that we could order any book at any hour without having to leave the screen in front of us, we realized what we had lost: the community center, the human interaction, the recommendations of a smart reader rather than a computer algorithm… I promised whomever was listening that from those very ashes, the small, independent bookstore would rise again.” And so it does. See http://www.parnassusbooks.net
So, actually, now that I think about it, Ann Patchett isn’t intimidating—she’s impressive, yes, and famous. But through this collection of articles, she reveals herself to be a warm, witty, and thoughtful person—and very real.
(And can she write! But that’s a topic for the next post.)