Friday Link Dump

This is terrible. I’m appalled…

Did you spot the blurb at the top? (Thanks, Dr J)

You can now play Angry Birds on your Nook e-reader.  Just in time.  All that reading was getting pretty dull.

Prose with Bros: the ”first ever multiplayer competitive poetry game”

A book about flies? No problem.  That’ll be $5 Million $8Million – uh, $23 Million.  Thanks for shopping Amazon.

As much as I hate to admit, not all of the reviews for Atlas Shrugged Part 1 have been terrible.  Concerned American at the Western Rifle Shooters Association gives it a “B”.

The Guardian focuses on some of Rand’s more inconvenient beliefs.

The “Gatsby house” comes down.

How your journalism sausage gets made: Part 1 of a series.

The “uncensored” Picture of Dorian Gray to be published.

New fiction from Sam Lipsyte in The New Yorker.

Wilde meets the Jersey Shore

Actors from the Broadway production of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest reinterpret dialog from the Jersey Shore. Brilliant!

Brought to you by Playbill. Did you know that they had a sense of humor?

Check out the rest of the series, Fred Flintstone Toe:

The Saint

Last week I linked to a long form article by Jon Krakauer that is available as a pay-per-PDF. That article completely worked in electronic format. It was a long article, but short enough to be reasonable as computer/phone reading material.   However, before I read that Krakauer article, I dove into a similar  length article on the Kindle for Android/PC apps (I read it on both) that was brilliant.   It reminded me, somewhat ironically, of the long form articles that I used to read in Outside Magazine – like the Krakauer articles that eventually became Into Thin Air. I’ve been meaning to gush about Oliver Broudy’s The Saint ever since. So let’s get to it.

The Saint is “the true story of how one man’s search for virtue lead to the brink of madness.”  Broudy is a successful writer and seemed to have the dream job as an editor of the prestigious Paris Review.  Success is always in the eye of the beholder, however, and Broudy finds himself increasingly at odds with the status consciousness endemic to New York City:

…there comes a point when the gnawing insecurity in which big cities specialize ceases to be a useful goad and thenceforth merely serves as soil for a host of other noxious phenomena–insiderism, narcicism, phoniness, sniping–all of which degrade and obstruct the relationships that give life meaning.  This is particularly the case among my crowd–the literary types…

In this mindset, Broudy stumbles across a charismatic modern shaman named James Otis in a meeting with film maker Spike Jonze.  Otis is in the midst of a hunger strike to both show his remorse for a recent conflict with the Indian government and to center himself as he plans his next move.  Otis seems completely different from the cutthroat city around him – selfless and above the rat race.    Broudy quickly falls into Otis’s orbit and begins to see him as a visionary and saint-like person.  Otis’s spat with the Indian government arose from his sale of Gandhi relics at a Manhattan auction house.  He is determined to sort things out with India, and, hey, while he’s there, why not head into Tibet and work some magic up there, too:

And so when James announced that he was flying to India to finalize the Mallya deal and engage in potentially hazardous work, there was really no question of remaining in New York.  This was the chance that I’d been waiting for,  Clearly I had to go with him.

Broudy quickly loses any journalistic distance from Otis and becomes a chaperone/handler for the increasingly scatter-brained mystic. Otis, it turns out, is an heir to the elevator fortune and the ex-husband of the heir to the Muppets fortune.  He mentions this frequently to impress upon the Tibetans that he is a player.   It takes Broudy longer than one might think to come to the realization that Otis has, as my grandfather liked to say, more dollars than sense.  Armed with an over-sized ego and staggering naivety, Otis is well on his way to becoming a one-man international incident.

The Saint is an engaging look at Broudy’s search for meaning and truth and the disappointment that naturally follows from the realization that he has chosen the wrong path.  It’s an excellent read and definitely worth checking out.  The Saint is available as a “Kindle Single” from Amazon.  Like Krakauer, Oliver Broudy is a writer with a pedigree whose long form articles may be tailor made for consumption without the patronage of a magazine or newspaper.  It will be interesting to see if this is the wave of the future for long form journalism.

The Picture of Dorian Gray

What can I say that I haven’t said before?  As an engineering major who never had to take an English class in college, who then went straight to law school where all of my reading time was spent on cases and legal treatises (I’m doing you a favor by not posting reviews of any of those), I missed out on a lot of stuff that everyone else read.  And so it is that I just read Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray.

First published in the 1890′s, The Picture of Dorian Gray was the only novel published by Wilde, who was quite a dandy (as that word is often used today) Irish playwright and poet.  Wilde’s wild life has been the subject of much historical and literary commentary over the years, and so I won’t get into that, focusing instead on the story itself.

The title character of the story is a handsome young man that we are introduced to as the subject of a portrait being painted by Basil Hallward.  When  Hallward’s friend Lord Henry Wotton joins the mix and the three of them engage in conversation, the reader immediately recognizes three drastically different worldviews emerging.  Gray appears to be an innocent, naive, and impressionable youngster, Hallward a cautious, introverted conservative, and Lord Henry a flamboyant, opinionated soapbox philosopher.  Their discussion makes an immediate impact on Dorian Gray, who is deeply influenced by Lord Henry’s take on life, and the reader can instantly see the beginning of Gray’s transformation into a superficial, self-centered egotist (is that redundant?) who is focused solely on beauty, aesthetics, and art for art’s sake.  As part of this transformation, Gray realizes that his beauty will not last forever and begins to lament his fate, making a wish that he could retain his looks.

For those of you who don’t know (and I don’t even think I can call this a spoiler), when the portrait is finished Gray takes it home and begins to notice that the painting is changing and evolving while he himself is not.  Gray locks the painting away in an unused room in his estate so that his secret will be safe, and things seem to be set for him, right?  Well, not so fast.  As the story progresses, Gray begins to see the impact that his wish and his new worldview are having on those around him (including the woman he falls in love with), and his confidence and strength begin to wither.  One can guess where things will end up, and I’ll leave it to you to do so (or to read the story).

My critical commentary on the story really focuses on two specific elements:  Wilde’s use of dialogue to make social and philosophical commentary, and Wilde’s transgression into nowhere in the middle of the book.  As to the first, while I was completely enthralled with the conversation taking place in the beginning of the book — just completely floored by the depth of the statements made primarily by Lord Henry, dozens of which could each serve as the subject for a Master’s Thesis — it was also difficult to suspend disbelief while I read.  Did people really talk like that in the 1890′s?  Could someone seriously say that stuff extemporaneously?  Wow.

With regard to the second, there is literally (using that term literally) a huge chunk in the middle of the book that the reader could skip without losing anything; in this section Gray becomes a “collector” of beautiful things, and Wilde spends page after page describing the various objects and artifacts that Gray collects.  While I can understand the point of bolstering the character’s positioning as a lover of beauty, the rambling descriptions became tiresome.  If the story were made into a sitcom and the viewer didn’t have a DVR, that part is where I’d tell you to go ahead and use the bathroom or head to the kitchen to grab a snack — you won’t miss anything.

All in all though, I can see why this book has earned its position as an icon in the literary world.  Wilde is an incredible writer, and even though my understanding is that many of the theories espoused by Lord Henry in the book aren’t original to Wilde, the author’s ability to place them into dialogue/context is superb.  And Dorian Gray’s character is symbolic in so many ways that the reader cannot help but reflect on his meaning.

Friday Links

Just to taunt me, Jennifer Egan’s A  Visit from the Goon Squad appears to be headed to HBO.  It’ll probably be awesome, too.  Dammit.

Kerouac’s Big Sur is headed to the big screen.  It’ll probably be terrible.  Dammit.

Remarkably, Cobb County, Georgia finally does something right.  I’m as stunned as anyone.

There is a book called The Man Who Loved Books Too Much.  Check out the best reaction to the book.  Ever.

A collection of excerpts from Bossypants.  I need to read this.

In case you missed it:  pro-capitalism, anti-gay campaigning former Senator chooses slogan from a Langston Hughes (gay, communist) poem for his future presidential campaign.

Interesting:  If you own a Kindle (or Kindle app), you’ll soon be able to borrow e-books from your local library on your own device.

10 Worst Book-to-Movie Adaptations

Heaven knows he’s miserable now:  Morrissey finishes the first draft of his “Mozography.”

One More: Book Passage

Ask anyone in the San Francisco Bay area which bookstore is the “must stop” for all authors they will reply  “Book Passage” in Corte Madera.  When I learned that  Book Passage was five minutes from my friend’s house, I couldn’t pass it up.

I picked up their most recent newsletter and couldn’t believe my eyes – they host an author ‘event’ almost every day in April and sometimes two in one day!   Caroline Kennedy, Isabel Allende, Michael Pollan, Harlan Coben and Sarah Vowell are just a few names that I recognized.

While browsing all the signed copies, I chatted with a woman who is a cover designer for Harper Collins.  Although she prefers good ‘ole paper books, she admitted that her kindle is pretty nice and comes in handy while riding the bus.  She casually remarked that she was surprised to learn that 20% of the sales of a recent Harper Collins release were sold electronically.

If you are planning a trip to the San Francisco area, check out  Book Passage’s events and you may be able to time it just right to see your favorite author.

Elliot Allagash

Elliot Allagash by Simon Rich is an enjoyable, lighthearted read.  Rich has written for the Harvard Lampoon and more recently for Saturday Night Live, so I think that’s what you would expect.

The book is narrated by Seymour Herson, an unpopular kid at a not-so-illustrious private school in Manhattan.  The title character is an obscenely rich sociopath that Seymour befriends in Eighth Grade; Elliot has been kicked out of more schools than anyone can count, and this school appears to be a last resort for him.  They become friends solely because Elliot wants to test his own skills (and money) to see if he can make Seymour popular.

Hijincks and shenanigans ensue as Elliot concocts scheme after scheme, rarely revealing details to Seymour, instead just commanding Seymour to go along with whatever Elliot says.  Elliot uses his father’s wealth and connections, as well as his limo driver/jack of all trades “James” to lie, cheat, and buy Seymour’s way into the popular kids’ circle.

As Seymour’s star rises, though, he begins to question some of the collateral damage caused by Elliot’s plans, and tension mounts between them.  Suffice it to say that you don’t want to get on the bad side of anyone who can trick an entire school into liking the unpopular kid.

There aren’t any deep life lessons to be garnered from these pages, but the story is an easy and entertaining read.  I would rank How I Paid for College by Marc Acito as my favorite of these schoolyard coming-of-age comedies that I’ve read as an adult, but this one is no slouch either.

Three Cups

The news that Greg Mortenson’s bestselling book Three Cups of Tea may include fabrications and Mortenson, in turn, may be a fraud is very sad affair.  The report first aired Sunday on 60 Minutes (watch it here.)

Mortenson responsed to the allegations shortly thereafter in a lengthy interview with Outside Magazine and an interview with his hometown Bozeman Daily Chronicle.

Jon Krakauer, author of Into Thin Air and a disenchanted hefty contributor to Mortenson’s charity, has published a lengthy journalistic piece that seems to present a fairly airtight case against Mortenson.  You can download the article for free (until April 20) at Byliner.com.  After the 20th purchase of the article will benefit a non-Mortenson charity.

If you want to impress Krakauer, don’t make up phony Himalayan climbs:

According to Three Cups of Tea (pages 10 and 44), Mortenson was an accomplished mountaineer who, before attempting K2, had made “half a dozen successful Himalayan ascents,” including climbs of 24,688-foot Annapurna IV and 23,389-foot Baruntse, both of which are in Nepal. But there is no record in the American Alpine Journal (which meticulously documents all ascents of Annapurna IV, Baruntse, and other major Himalayan peaks) of Mortenson reaching the summit of, or even attempting, any Himalayan mountain prior to 1993. Scott Darsney, Greg’s climbing partner on K2, confirms that Mortenson had never been to the Himalaya or Karakoram before going to K2.

Pulitzer

Weird.  The 2011 Pulitzer Prizes have been handed out.  In a frist, I have read all three books nominated for the fiction prize:

I was lukewarm on Goon Squad and was depressed for weeks after Surrendered.  I would have had to go with Priviledges on this list, but they didn’t ask me.

Check out all of the finalists here.

 

Who is John G***?

If our site stats are to be believed, that question (rhymes with salt) has lead several folks to our blog via their favorite search engine over the last few weeks or so.   I guess the question has been creeping up in frequency to coincide with the new movie, Atlas Shrugged Part 1.  (In Atlas Shrugged Part 2: Electric Boogaloo, John Galt denies strips the funding for the local community center, and local children must resort to a break dancing competition to defeat him.)  I’m not sure why searching for John G*** leads readers here.  Maybe it’s because we mock Ayn Rand and her poorly written, morally bankrupt world view at every opportunity.  Even then, BGB doesn’t show up in the first 20 pages of Google results for that term, so I have no idea how long you have to click through to find us.  Persistence.  Whatever the reason, here’s a spoiler alert: John G*** is a douche.  And a fictional one at that.

This is all a roundabout excuse to link to this article by Maureen Dowd on Ayn Rand.

Friday Links

Tina Fey wears her Bossypants on Fresh Air.

The New York Times declares that the age of the picture book is drawing to a close.  Children beg to differ in the cutest letter to the editor ever.

Flavorwire:  What Your Favorite Kids Book Then Says About You Now

The OnionAuthor Promoting Book Gives It Her All Whether It’s Just 3 People Or A Crowd Of 9 People

A twist on the usual books that are bad for teens story – this article actually recommends a list of books for teens that are supposed to be “unsuitable” for their age group.   I love it.  Several of these were on my own teen reading list.

 

Pym

Mat Johnson’s novel Pym is impossible to describe without sounding like you’re making it up as you go along.  It’s a literary mystery/antarctic thriller/art scene satire that doubles as scathing social commentary.  With giant yeti-like creatures and Edgar Allen Poe.  And it’s really, really good.

 

 

The novel begins on the campus of a Eastern liberal arts college.  Chris Jaynes finds himself out of a job as the school’s professor of African-American Literature and only black professor.  Chafing in the role of “blackademic” and “Professional Negro”, Jaynes refuses to join the school’s Diversity Committee (thereby robbing it of its diversity).  When he begins to teach early American literature, with a focus on Edgar Allen Poe, he is denied tenure and shown the door.  Jaynes defends his work exploring the work of Poe:

You want to understand Whiteness, as a pathology and a mindset, you have to look at the source of its assumptions…To truly understand evolution, Darwin couldn’t just stare at dead finches. No, he studied animals in their embryonic form…That’s why Poe’s work mattered. It offered passage on a vessel bound for the primal American subconscious, the foundation on which all our visible systems and structures were built.

Jaynes is particularly obsessed with Poe’s only novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, a strange and not particularly good novel full of self-conflicting and dead-end elements.  The novel tells the story of a white whaler (Pym) and a black sailor, Dirk Peters, who alternately denies and embraces his race opportunistically over the course of the novel:

Dirk Peters was an Uncle Tom.  This was a particularly impressive achievement, considering Uncle Tom’s Cabin had not yet been written. But Peters managed it anyway.

They two men are the only survivors of an attack by a black tribe on an island off Antarctica.  They escape only to be greeted by a large white monster upon their arrival on the Continent itself.  Then Poe’s novel abruptly ends. Jaynes interest in the novel becomes a full blown obsession when his antiquarian book dealer shows up with a strange narrative or possible early novel by an unknown black author – Dirk Peters.

Jaynes becomes convinced that the Peters narrative corroborates the events in Poe’s novel, which he now believes is not a novel at all. Armed with a large cash settlement from his dismissal from the university, Jaynes assembles and finances an all-black crew for his own exploration of the Antarctic to see if he can find the mysterious black islanders of the deep southern latitudes and resolve the tale of the white monster. Then things get weird.

The crew encounters Poe’s huge humanoid beasts (or “giant snow honkies” according to one crew member) and a reclusive millionaire artist, a very thinly disguised Thomas Kincaid, “the artist of light.”  The crew’s adventures serve as a backdrop for Johnson to explore the themes of race and identity.  Johnson’s sharp wit, ironic distancing, and gripping story help to soften the blows of what is  a serious and deeply biting satire of racial conflict and self-identity in quote unquote post-racial America.

Post Script: Mat Johnson’s previous work was the critically well-regarded graphic novel Incognegro about a light-skinned black northern reporter who “passes” in the south to report on and expose lynchings.  The Best Damn Writing Blog recently named Johnson as one of the Top 25 Most Influential Black Fiction Writers on Twitter. Ironically, one Twitter user recently had this so say: “PYM by Mat Johnson. Um, a white guy wrote this? I feel uncomfortable.”

Also: If you’ve found your way here via the Decatur Book Festival newsletter, welcome!  Please, stay a while and look around.  If you’re not currently receiving the Decatur Book Festival’s e-mail newsletter, what are you waiting for! Sign up here, and select the AJC DBF newsletter.  That’s it!

More History in a Bookstore

After my work had finished, I moved on to Mill Valley, a suburb just north of Sausalito.  Mill Valley was originally a resort town for people who lived in San Francisco, prior to the building of the Golden Gate Bridge.  Vacationers would come in by train around the turn of the 20th century.  In 1890, the first buyers ended their voyage at the train depot which became a Greyhound bus station in the 1940’s and since the 1960’s has been The Depot Bookstore and Café.

The Depot is a quaint family owned store with a thriving café.  I spoke with the woman working that day and asked her how they are handling all of this e-book business.  She said they have changed their focus to include mostly: local travel books, children’s books and books by local authors.  She said they also have begun selling more gift items than in the past.

Fortunately for The Depot’s café, Mill Valley is one of those rare towns that does not allow chain restaurants.  It was a very busy the weekday I was there.  The Depot is definitely a destination for locals and visitors – definitely check them out.

Bookstores we love: Moe’s – Berkeley

When I think of Berkeley, I usually only think of the university that resides there.  I’d never visited before a couple weeks ago and figured it would be like any urban college neighborhood.  I was right. And just like the rest of the Bay Area, they love their history.  This made Moe’s a must-see on my informal bookstore tour.

Located on Telegraph Avenue and a short walk from campus, Moe’s has been a staple in the neighborhood since 1959 and in its current location since the 1960′s.  Moe’s was founded by Moe and Barbara Moskowitz – both very colorful people that you can read about on their website.  I found it interesting to see an entire table dedicated to Vegan cooking – something I would never see in Atlanta.  I didn’t realize until almost too late that they had two floors overflowing with used books and in addition, an entire room dedicated to antique books!  I wanted to explore that room, but the door was locked!  (I did take pictures through the glass though.)

Judging by the looks of the people hanging out around Moe’s, this store has a colorful past. If only those stacks could talk!

A Fun Surprise in Oakland, California

I knew that I hit the jackpot when my boss told me I was going to the San Fran Bay area for business.  I assumed I would find plenty of cool bookstores to visit – which I’ll talk about later – but to my surprise, Oakland has a secret that I wasn’t aware of – a very strong connection to Jack London.

Jack London was born in San Francisco and ended up doing his homework in Heinold’s First and Last Chance (above) located along the Oakland waterfront which is now called Jack London Square.  He eventually attended the University of California at Berkely not far from this waterfront area.  I certainly never gave much thought to where Jack London was from, I only think -Alaska – when I hear his name.

Located a few blocks from Oakland’s Chinatown, this harbor area, like most of Oakland, is being revitalized.  I had lunch at one of the new restaurants at one end of the strip and down at the other end is Jack London’s cabin.  The logs were brought down from his site in Alaska and re-constructed to look just as they did in the wilderness.

Seeing this historic structure inspired me to conduct a little research on Mr. London’s interesting life.  And interesting it was –Google him yourself.

You can check out the square here.

Some of the most fun sites are the ones we happen to stumble upon.

Indie Booksellers Award Longlist

Melville House publishers have announced the longlist for the first Independent Booksellers Choice Award.  A quick read shows that this award, in a crowded field of book awards, will be different.  Most of the books are from small, independent presses.  Of the 30 books nominated, I have only heard of 10 of them.  I like to think that I keep up with this sort of thing, so it’s a humbling list.  The two that I’ve read, Orion You Came and Took All My Marbles (review) and The Windup Girl (review) definitely qualify as off-kilter titles.   I’m looking forward to seeing how this one plays out.  I’ll have to read the winner on principle.

The Bell Jar

Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Dorothy Parker.  Not only are they three women who’ve never been in my kitchen, they are also three notable female authors that I’ve never read.  As a chapter in my ongoing quest to try to read many of the classics that the cool kids probably read in high school or college, I figured I’d investigate these three.  First stop, Sylvia Plath.

Plath herself is regarded as a tragic heroine, having found herself in a failing marriage to another poet, with two children, in a foreign country, struggling with depression and (I think) borderline insanity at times, eventually taking her own life in 1963.

The Bell Jar is her semiautobiographical novel about a young writer who battles depression and insanity while in college.  The term “the bell jar” is used by Plath in the book to describe the feeling of madness, as if a glass bell jar is constantly hovering over you, sometimes completely surrounding you and stifling you.  Critical note:  this reminded me of Jean-Dominique Bauby’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Bauby’s absolutely spellbinding and emotionally riveting story of his life after suffering a massive stroke that left him fully functional mentally, but physically unable to move anything except one eyelid, circumstances he likened to a butterfly in a diving bell, unable to interact with the outside world.  Second critical note:  everyone should read Bauby’s book; if it doesn’t move you, you aren’t human.

Now that I’ve started down the path, I suppose I’ll continue to draw parallels between The Bell Jar and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.  The most significant common thread to me is that both books are fundamentally legitimate.  Legitimate in the sense that the authors actually went through the circumstances described in their works, and so they both speak from a place that most of us have never been and will never be.  So, unlike fictionalized accounts of strange events, or fantastical tellings of difficult situations, as you read these works, you know that the authors aren’t making it up.  And that gives their writing so much more credibility and leads their stories to resonate with the reader so much more than they would if they were told from the third person by someone who hadn’t experienced these things.

With Bauby’s book, this is pretty easy to understand, as each of us can imagine — or more properly, can’t possibly imagine — what it would be like to be trapped in your body with no ability to move, but with full recognition of your surroundings, full use of your brain, full recall of your memories and experiences, etc.  Plath’s situation is more complicated to me, because plenty of writers have written stories told from the perspective of a “crazy person”.  But Plath is able to tell her story and describe the emotional rollercoaster, feelings of paranoia, and skewed perspectives of a person who is losing it from the perspective of a person who was truly losing it.  And so going in to the book, you can’t help but lend a much deeper sense of meaning to what she says.  It’s not a psychiatrist trying to discern what’s going on inside the mind of an unstable person — it’s an unstable person with a gift for prose describing it directly.

The story that takes place in The Bell Jar is not, in my opinion, in and of itself, a particularly ingenious tale.  While the story of a young woman from the Boston area interning in NYC for a summer and then finding herself up against writer’s block when she returns home and eventually being admitted to an asylum isn’t necessarily your everyday run-of-the-mill plotline, it’s also not as clever or unique as some other masterworks.  However, what you know about Plath, and the knowledge that she is really talking about herself and her own feelings pushes this to another level.  In other words, if you read this in a vacuum (i.e., without knowing anything about Plath’s backstory), you’d probably give it a B, if only based on her simple but engaging style of prose.  But when you know the whole story, you understand why this book has earned its place in history.

Feeling Minnesota

image

In Minneapolis this morning: I stumbled across this ink blot drawing of Dave Eggers advertising a reading series subtitled “The ink on the page only tells part of the story.”  Clever.

Reading’s ups and downs

On the one hand, I’m relishing a slow read of Téa Obreht’s wonderful The Tiger’s Wife.  On the other, I’m disappointed in how this year’s Tournament of Books turned out.

Friday Links

I was very excited about this article about new directions for education that stressed the importance of reading:

I want to take on the lowest-common-denominator ethos, the “let’s not be too demanding”, “all this smacks of targets”, “the poor dears can’t manage it”, “the idea of a canon is outmoded”, “it’s all on the internet anyway” culture which is anti-knowledge, anti-aspiration and antithetical to human flourishing.

Instead, I want a culture in which the more you read, the more you are celebrated.

…and then I realized that I was reading an article from a British newspaper.  Nuts.

On writing: authors reveal the secrets of their craft (Thanks, Dr J)

I’m totally stealing this idea and coming up with a BGB version: 10 Essential Food and Literature Pairings for Your Next Dinner Party (Thanks, Kathleen)

Dave Eggers-inspired writing centers for kids continue to go international.  First there was Nick Hornby’s Ministry of Stories in East London.  Now the Swedes are hopping on the bandwagon with  the Ministry of Storytelling.

The surprise in this article about the 2011 trends in college admissions: # 7 More Applicants Are Interested in Creative Writing

In case you missed this week’s episode of authors behaving badly.  And maybe not fully understanding how the internet works.

Rachel Ray:  Victim of poor punctuation or deeply disturbed? You decide.

Patti Smith is at work on her sequel to Just Kids.  Nice.

Wow, you can Twitter from inside the e-book?  Awesome!  It’s like you’re hardly reading at all.

When we get done with the remodel, I want my library to look just like this one.

Do the kids even know who Dick and Jane are anymore? No matter. This is good stuff:

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