Roy Miller's Blog, page 220

April 11, 2017

Writing, Compiling, and Arranging Short Stories in a Collection

This content was originally published by Brian A. Klems on 11 April 2017 | 8:30 pm.
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Putting together a book of short stories is like creating an issue of a literary magazine: The writer has to consider each story and the composition of the book as a whole. The difference between writing a single story and compiling them into a collection is significant.



NineFactsCover Short storiesThis guest post is by Ronna Wineberg. Wineberg is the author of the new story collection, NINE FACTS THAT CAN CHANGE YOUR LIFE, as well as ON BITTERSWEET PLACE, her first novel, and a debut collection, SECOND LANGUAGE, which won the New Rivers Press Many Voices Project Literary Competition and was the runner-up for the 2006 Reform Judaism Prize for Jewish Fiction. Her stories have appeared in American Way, Colorado Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, South Dakota Review, and elsewhere, and been broadcast on National Public Radio. She is the founding fiction editor of the Bellevue Literary Review.



I’ve been fortunate to have two collections published. For each book, I pulled together disparate pieces of my work and put them in a logical order that made it seem as if the stories were inextricably connected.


My first collection came together more quickly than the second book. Compiling the second collection involved finding the right word, the right combination of stories and arrangement. I learned as I went along.


Gather Your Work

I piled my inventory of stories, published and unpublished, on my desk and read them. I experimented with different selections. By the time I was working on Nine Facts That Can Change Your Life, I had written many stories and had lots of choices. I added pieces to the book and removed stories. I realized some pieces, even published ones, needed more work. Some were stronger than others.


I chose stories that seemed to fit together, give variety, and reflected the book’s themes. The themes emerged as I worked on the book. I saw how my fiction had changed over time, saw the obsessions that haunted me as a writer. I had written again and again about relationships, bonds to partners, spouses, parents, children, and friends, as if I were trying to find a solution to a puzzle, to understand those things that strengthen or weaken relationships.


I didn’t include a few of my favorite stories in the collection. They didn’t touch on the book’s themes or dealt with ideas explored in other pieces. Still, it was hard to part with them.


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Really Consider Each Piece

When I started to write fiction, my goal was to create a story that worked. This can take years. It did for me. Each story idea was a journey into the unknown. I labor over a story, examining descriptions, words, images, and character development, trying to make a piece work, even sing if I’m lucky.


A writer is never really done with a project, even though he or she moves on to the next one. I had considered many of my stories finished, especially the published ones. I ended up revising the stories that were part of the collection.


Be Flexible

Then I set the story collection manuscript aside. Each time I wrote a new story I considered strong, I removed a weaker one and inserted the stronger piece.


The collection was elastic, in flux.


[4 Short Lessons on the Subject of Short Stories]


Consider the Arrangement

Next, I turned to the order of stories. In a sense, a reader participates in the order; he or she can choose to read the stories in any order. Still, I felt the arrangement was important and created a flow for the book.


When I was working on my first collection, I read David Leavitt’s introduction to his Collected Stories. He quoted Gordon Lish’s advice: “…start with a pisser, end with a pisser.” This could apply to a story, too.


Leavitt wrote that record albums helped him decide how to order stories for his collections “particularly Joni Mitchell’s that I turned to find a model for how to arrange nine or ten seemingly unrelated pieces of prose into a coherent and meaningful whole.” The arrangement of musical pieces created a momentum, a rhythm, the building of something, I realized, and so I turned to CDs and albums as a guide, too.


I experimented and settled on an order for the stories. I thought of it as a “provisional order.”



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Prepare for the Long Haul

My first collection was published in 2005. It had been rejected by publishers and contests, but it finally won a contest, which was thrilling. The editor asked me to change the order of stories, which I’d meticulously labored over. But he was right—I found a better arrangement. I also decided to remove one story from the collection.


I was so happy to be the author of a collection—a dream—that I started to compile a second collection.


In 2007, I sent the new collection, with the working title of “Foreign Lands” to contests and a few agents. I knew mainstream publishers weren’t interested in collections, and most agents weren’t either. I was realistic, I was used to rejections—I had file folders filled with them.


However, I unexpectedly received two encouraging rejections. In October, the director of a contest noted that my work was in the top 20 percent of submissions.


In December, I received a letter from the editor of a second contest: “…Your manuscript kept getting short listed and was on the table long into our deliberations. We’re sorry not to be taking it for we admired the voice, the attention to detail, and both the precision and variety of these stories. (A few of our favorites are: ‘Foreign Lands,’ ‘Terminal,’ ‘The Shiva,’ & ‘Fluid Liaisons.’) It is a wonderful collection and we expect that it will soon find a home elsewhere if it hasn’t done so.”


I was both disappointed and excited. A writing teacher told me once: If you’re a writer, you are in it for the long haul. I told myself I had to be prepared for the long haul with this book. On the other hand, the manuscript had been short listed. Though it was a rejection, it felt like a gift. I knew from my work as the fiction editor of the Bellevue Literary Review that editors only write to an author if they’ve been touched by the work or see potential.


I had to make the manuscript stronger, I decided. In the meantime, I worked on a novel. I continued to write, revise, and publish new stories, too. The novel was published in 2014.


The story collection still pulled at me, and I went back to it after my novel was published. I added some of the new stories, changed the order and title, and submitted the collection to contests and small presses.


[9 Ways Writing Short Stories Can Pay Off for Writers]


Accept Change

In July 2016, Serving House Books accepted the collection of sixteen short stories. I was thrilled. The publisher felt there was some repetition. He was willing to read other stories I had considered for the collection. I sent him five. He’s a writer himself and has a great eye and ear.


I ended up including two of the additional stories and removed three others from the manuscript.


There were two linked stories in the collection. I combined them into one. The fusion worked.


I had never been satisfied with the order of the stories. Something seemed off. The editor suggested I divide the book into three parts, chronologically.


I knew which stories I wanted to place at the beginning and end of the book. They both explored intermarriage, secrets, and love. They would frame the collection.


The three-part division worked. The stories are now arranged in a kind of chronological order of relationships: early stages, middle, later stages. The first part of the book focuses on youth. The later stories look at long term partnerships, affairs, divorce, death of a parent, death of illusions.


Revise, Revise, Revise

Then I sat down to read the manuscript as if it were a finished book to see how the stories fit together now. I was surprised to see I’d unconsciously repeated images, names, words, and even descriptions in different stories. I hadn’t noticed that before. Too many buildings were described as “red brick.” Characters with the name “Thomas” appeared in unrelated stories. I’d used “terrible” too many times. A few characters had the names of people I knew—a relative, a friend of my daughter’s. I’d chosen the names without making the connection. The unconscious has a will of its own, I realized. I had to find replacements.


Labor, and Repeat

The submitted manuscript for Nine Facts That Can Change Your Life was not the final manuscript. I appreciated the input of the publisher and editor. I’d worked on the book for so long and knew everything by heart; I needed a reader, a fresh perspective.


Holding the published book in my hands, I forgot the labor of it, the choices, decisions, the revisions, and rejection. The selection of stories and order seemed just as they were meant to be. I felt a rush of joy; I had accomplished what I set out to do, moved forward and mastered the technique for creating a second story collection.


I was reminded once again that writing, like any art, is fueled by labor and repetition, and not just inspiration alone.


Screen Shot 2016-08-08 at 2.57.50 PM


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Published on April 11, 2017 22:24

Dear Reader, Meet Your Match: An Advice Column for Book Lovers

This content was originally published by NICOLE LAMY on 11 April 2017 | 9:50 am.
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When I peruse bookstore shelves, I find few books that target this particular transition period in reading. And too often the protagonist in the books recommended for young readers is a boy. Please don’t suggest the Magic Tree House series , which holds no power for them. I recently made two good discoveries: the debut novel of picture book author and illustrator Peter Brown — “ The Wild Robot” — and Annie Barrows’s “Ivy & Bean” series . In addition, the twins and their 11 -year-old brother have traveled to distant places. Are there books with windows to young lives elsewhere in our world?


MADONNA KREKEL
SEATTLE, WASH.


Dear Madonna ,


The early years of independent reading are marked by sudden turns. At first children’s grasp of stories outpaces their ability to decipher the text. Then fluency fast-forwards and children start picking up long chapter books even though they might not yet be ready for wizards, menstruation or the humiliations of middle school.


The good news is that there are plenty of books — classics and contemporary stories, series and stand-alone chapter books — in which reading levels and interest levels click. And many of them star strong-willed, outspoken girls.



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“Ramona Quimby, Age 8,” by Beverly Cleary, was first published in 1981, but the spirited Ramona has aged well. Cleary, who turned 100 last year, wrote eight Ramona books; I have a soft spot for “Ramona and Her Father” (the fourth in the series, published in 1977), in which Ramona matures a little after her father loses his job. Readers can also catch glimpses of Ramona in other Cleary books, including the Henry Huggins series. Seeing a beloved main character from one book pop up in a supporting role in another is magic. It feels like an invitation from the author into a secret club.


Sara Pennypacker’s Clementine — the observant narrator of a seven-book series illustrated by Marla Frazee— is a more carefree version of Ramona. Though she is indecisive and impatient, Clementine’s troubles are more swiftly resolved than Ramona’s. Clementine’s powerful imagination shines through in her quirky naming habits; she calls her brother after vegetables, and she has a pet kitten named Moisturizer.



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If the twins’ love for animals extends to the anthropomorphized variety, they will enjoy two gentle woodland mysteries written by Ulf Nilsson and illustrated by Gitte Spee: “Detective Gordon: The First Case” and “A Complicated Case.” Both star a mouse named Buffy who finds her calling as a detective.


I’ll leave you with three recommendations for your globetrotting granddaughters to inspire trips both real and imagined. Originally published in 1937, “Elsie Piddock Skips in Her Sleep,” written by Eleanor Farjeon with pictures by Charlotte Voake, features an ordinary girl whose talent for jumping rope is so extraordinary that it impresses the fairies who live on Mount Caburn, which rises above Elsie’s family’s home in England.



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Next there is “Anna Hibiscus,” by the Nigerian-born writer and storyteller Atinuke with illustrations by Lauren Tobia. The first in a series, the book introduces readers to the curious protagonist, who lives in Africa with her extended family and longs to see snow.


Finally, check out “Book Uncle and Me,” written by Uma Krishnaswami with pictures by Julianna Swaney. The charming book is set in India and narrated by a voracious reader named Yasmin, age 9, whose love of books spurs her to community activism. Yasmin’s endearing voice captured the attention of the young readers in my house from the first page.


Yours truly,
Match Book


Do you need book recommendations? Write to matchbook@nytimes.com.


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Published on April 11, 2017 19:19

Knopf Announces Fifth Book In Larsson's Millennium Series

This content was originally published by on 1 January 1970 | 12:00 am.
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Knopf will publish ‘The Girl Who Takes An Eye for An Eye,’ the fifth installment in the late Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Series, on September 12.


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Published on April 11, 2017 18:17

A Heroine Comes of Age With Her Pistol-Packing Father

This content was originally published by PETE HAMILL on 11 April 2017 | 11:00 am.
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“The first time,” he says. “Now slide the bolt.”


Loo’s mother, Lily, died accidentally in a lake in distant Wisconsin before the young Loo could truly remember her. That loss provides an emotional anchor for Tinti’s story — and also for Loo herself, who still disappears at least once a day into the bathroom where Hawley has created an improvised shrine to his dead wife. As father and daughter moved around the unfamiliar American countryside, often abruptly, he always took the elements of the shrine with him to the next place. Photographs, a grocery list, the scrawled remnants of a dream. Like visible fragments of memory. The shrine and the guns establish a sense of home, a sense of continuity as Loo grows up. She may not recover her mother, but eventually she will master the holy art of shooting.


Photo



The story is bound together by memory as a kind of highlight film. Which is to say, by memory as it actually is and not as a neat, banal narrative or a huge baroque melodrama. Loo’s memories, and her father’s, are often triggered by subtle moments: a snatch of song, the rumble of fireworks, the aroma of food, sudden ripples of offstage laughter. And yes, pictures in a cramped bathroom. Sometimes the sun gleams in those images. But more often they are streaked by deep, threatening shadows. In this portrait, those shadows also obscure the true nature of Samuel Hawley.


The reason: Hawley is an outlaw. Not a gangster, because he retains no membership in a gang. Hawley is a freelancer, using his skill with guns to enforce criminal assignments: picking up certain very valuable cargo, usually in states where he does not live, and delivering it for a fee to the master planners. He steals cars to get around. He does what is necessary to survive his assignment. Hurting strangers. Killing, if that is necessary. He has a few freelance criminal friends, loners shaped by jails and violence. They often work together. In civilian life, Hawley poses as a fisherman or a house painter. He carefully hides his true identity from his daughter.



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But he also pays a price. The 12 lives of the novel’s title are represented by 12 bullet wounds in his body, a kind of stations-of-the-cross marker for the scars Hawley has suffered in the living of his shadow life. His body has been punctured by too many bullets, along with the interior wound of losing his wife, and his great fear of harm coming to his daughter. Hawley’s love for Loo is tender and pure, a reprieve from an otherwise sinful existence. It makes Hawley an admirable father, and the novel more than a case for the humanity of gun nuts.


As his own story moves on, Hawley begins to self-medicate against physical pain or mental agony. He teaches his daughter to roll cigarettes for him. And he chooses alcohol as his own most useful medicine. The alcoholic blur pushes away the sharp edges in his mind. It doesn’t matter where father and daughter are. San Francisco. Oklahoma. Massachusetts. What matters is to sleep at night. And for Loo to go to a regular school and make friends. And so they do, in Olympus as in their other homes. But when Hawley digs for clams at the shore, he always has his back to the sea while he watches the people.



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The story has a few other important characters. One is Loo’s maternal grandmother, Mabel Ridge, who is severe and wintry, as if convinced that Hawley and Loo are responsible for Lily’s death. There’s an insecure boy named Marshall Hicks, who once got fresh with Loo. Her response: She broke one of his fingers. Later, they fall in love. When Hawley is away, Marshall comes to sleep with Loo. Now they are seeing each other more clearly, as evoked by Tinti’s keen eye:


“Marshall sat up and looked around Loo’s room, his eyes resting on each piece of furniture and item on her bureau. A bowl of shells, a strip of Skee-Ball tickets from the county fair, a pile of comic books, novels and astronomy guides, some half-melted candles from a power outage, a wad of balled-up tissues from her last cold, a small batch of cormorant feathers that she’d found and kept, because she liked their iridescent black color. Loo watched him puzzle over each object. It was as if he was measuring her life.”


There are surprises too. And diversions. And mysteries. There is an extended scene with Hawley’s long absent father, who vanishes again when it ends: A vision? A delusion? We don’t know, but we read on, carried by Tinti’s seductive prose. She has a deep feeling for the passage of time and its effect on character. And when it’s appropriate, she can use her vivid language to express the ripping depth of human pain.


As this strikingly symphonic novel enters its last movement, the final bars remind us that of all the painful wounds that humans can endure, the worst are self-inflicted. The evidence is there in the scar tissue that pebbles the body of Samuel Hawley, and there too in the less visible scars on his heart.


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Published on April 11, 2017 17:16

Veteran Bookseller Plans D.C. Bookstore Around Diverse Staff

This content was originally published by on 1 January 1970 | 12:00 am.
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Former Politics and Prose manager Angela Maria Spring plans to open a bookstore “owned, operated, and managed by a majority of people of color” in the nation’s capital.


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Published on April 11, 2017 16:16

2017 April PAD Challenge: Day 11

This content was originally published by Robert Lee Brewer on 11 April 2017 | 6:00 am.
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If you want to learn a little more about me, that’s easy to do. Dustin Brookshire is sharing poet profiles on his blog this month, and recently posted a profile of me.


Today is our second Tuesday of the month, which means it’s Two-for-Tuesday day.


Here are the two prompts for today:



Write a sonnet. (Click here if you need a refresher on sonnets.) I know some folks will say a writing a form is not a prompt, but I often use forms to prompt me into poems. And I know that some folks will say they hate traditional forms. Soooo, the other prompt is to…
Write an anti-form poem. Write about your dislike of poetic forms. Let it all out.

*****


Re-create Your Poetry!


Revision doesn’t have to be a chore–something that should be done after the excitement of composing the first draft. Rather, it’s an extension of the creation process!


In the 48-minute tutorial video Re-creating Poetry: How to Revise Poems, poets will be inspired with several ways to re-create their poems with the help of seven revision filters that they can turn to again and again.


Click to continue.


*****


Here’s my attempt at a Sonnet and/or Anti-Form Poem:

“no forms”


believe me when i say
with no shame or regret
that i’m anti-sonnet
& against triolet
because forms hide my voice
behind layered structures
blinding me with textures
forced without any choice
for instance i must rhyme
in elaborate ways
about evenings & days
that pass measured by time
which forces me to think
& thinking kind of stinks


*****


Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He actually does like to think and play around with poetic forms, including sonnets.


Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


*****


Find more poetic posts here:

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Published on April 11, 2017 15:15

Robin Hyman obituary | Books

This content was originally published by Peter Hyman on 11 April 2017 | 11:05 am.
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My father, Robin Hyman, who has died aged 85, was one of the leading independent book publishers of the 20th century. But he was so much more than that: family man, Jew, author, theatregoer, book-collector, sports fan, lover of all things Pepys and political junkie. He packed things in, believing that every second of life should be filled, every person he met would have an interesting tale to tell, and every cultural experience would make his life richer.


Son of an antiquarian bookseller, Robin spent a life surrounded by books. He had a particular way of handling a new book,looking at the cover, turning it over to read the blurb, examining the back and the spine before looking at the inside page for the , paper quality and font. He boasted proudly of being able to spot at least 10 errors in any published book – and when put to the challenge, always did.


He was born in London, to Helen (nee Mautner) and Leonard Hyman, educated at Christ’s College, Finchley, and studied English at Birmingham University. After national service in the RAF, in 1955 he joined the publishing firm Evans Brothers. In the early 60s he effectively did two jobs, getting up at five in the morning to compile a Dictionary of Famous Quotations (published in 1962) before beginning his day at Evans Brothers, where he worked his way up to be managing director. Robin went on to co-author many children’s books with his wife, Inge (nee Neufeld), a clinical psychologist, whom he married in 1966.


One of his proudest achievements, at Bell and Hyman, the company he led from 1977 until 1986, was to publish the complete Pepys diaries, with a separate volume just for the index which won the Wheatley medal. In 1986, after a merger with Allen & Unwin, the company became Unwin Hyman and there he published the work of JRR Tolkien.


He was a longtime member of the council of the Publishers’ Association and its president in 1989-91, at the time of the controversy over Salman Rushdie’s book The Satanic Verses and when the Net Book Agreement, which prevented books being discounted, was being threatened (it is now a thing of the past).


Robin was a mentor, adviser and supporter to many. He touched people deeply because he was a listener, with genuine empathy and understanding, a mischievous sense of humour and great humility about his achievements.


He is survived by Inge, their three children, James, Philippa and me, and eight grandchildren.



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Published on April 11, 2017 14:14

RBmedia Launches, Acquires Audiobooks.com

This content was originally published by on 1 January 1970 | 12:00 am.
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The just-launched RBmedia, which produces and distributes spoken audio and digital media, is now the “umbrella brand” over such U.S. audio imprints as Recorded Books, Tantor Media, HighBridge Audio, and Christianaudio.


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Published on April 11, 2017 13:12

Your Story #82 | WritersDigest.com

This content was originally published by Baihley Grandison on 11 April 2017 | 2:18 pm.
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Write a line (one sentence only, 25 words or fewer) that best describes what’s happening in the photo shown here. You can be funny, poignant, witty, etc.; it is, after all, your story.


Use the submission form below OR email your submission directly to yourstorycontest@fwmedia.com.


IMPORTANT: If you experience trouble with the submission form, please email your submission directly to yourstorycontest@fwmedia.com within the body of your email (no attachments, please).


Unfortunately, we cannot respond to every entry we receive, due to volume. No confirmation emails will be sent out to confirm receipt of submission. But be assured all submissions received before entry deadline are considered carefully. Official Rules


Entry Deadline: May 29, 2017


Your Story Entry Form



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Published on April 11, 2017 12:10

In ‘Nevertheless,’ Alec Baldwin Charts His Course From Long Island to Bumpy Fame

This content was originally published by SARAH LYALL on 10 April 2017 | 10:35 pm.
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It is in this spirit of trepidation mitigated by appreciation that you approach “Nevertheless,” Baldwin’s latest book. (He’s also the author of “A Promise to Ourselves,” about his custody battle over Ireland.)


Photo

Alec Baldwin with Barnard Hughes (left) and Mary-Louise Parker in the Off Broadway production of Craig Lucas’s play “Prelude to a Kiss” (1990).



Credit

via Alec Baldwin


“I’m not actually writing this book to discuss my work, my opinions or my life,” Baldwin declares right off the bat and soon adds, “I’m writing it because I was paid to write it.”


After that start, you feel the needle on your Baldwin-appreciation meter trending downward. But to his surprise (and ours) he pulls himself together and delivers a thorough and sophisticated effort to answer an interesting question: How did an indifferently raised, self-flagellating kid from a just-making-ends-meet, desultorily functioning Long Island family, in Massapequa, turn into Alec Baldwin, gifted actor, familiar public figure, impressively thoughtful person, notorious pugilist?



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The passages about his childhood — his mother overwhelmed, depressed, lying in bed surrounded by laundry; his father working at a school; six siblings fighting for space and resources in a two-bedroom house, their parents unable to afford even a washing machine — are beautifully written and unexpectedly moving.



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“Six pieces of driftwood,” Baldwin writes of himself and his siblings, “just bobbing through our neighborhood, without a current to carry us in any particular direction, passing time, trying to pass our classes, avoiding trouble, courting trouble, scoring points, telling jokes, drinking, smoking, always mindful of how little we had.”


He never intended to be an actor but fell into the job when, as a student at George Washington University, he spontaneously decided to audition for the New York University theater program while visiting the city. He got a spot despite having no experience, transferred out of George Washington and then had an existential crisis.



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Why hadn’t he continued with his plans of going to law school? “Why was I spending hours at the Lee Strasberg Institute weeping or directing scenes wherein we staged our dreams or shouting into a corner at some unseen source of my anxieties?”


Photo

Mr. Baldwin with his daughter Ireland, who is now 21.



Credit

via Alec Baldwin


But then he spent two years on an actual soap opera, moved to Hollywood, moved back to New York, and saw his career rise and then fall and then rise again. His current film, “The Boss Baby,” in which he voices the character of a tyrannical infant, is currently No. 1 at the box office. People cannot get enough of his portrayal of Trump, with its perfectly pitched vapidity laced with self-regard.



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“Nevertheless,” whose title comes from a dirty joke that Baldwin heard from the British actor Michael Gambon, is full of unexpectedly sharp descriptions.


Of Mary-Louise Parker, his Off Broadway co-star in “Prelude to a Kiss,” he writes: “With her big eyes and lanky frame, you weren’t sure if she was a ballet dancer or a murderer.” Harrison Ford, who replaced him as Tom Clancy’s character Jack Ryan after “The Hunt for Red October,” is “a little man, short, scrawny and wiry, whose soft voice sounds as if it’s coming from behind a door.”


He is tough on himself. Writing about “The Cooler,” a small film he made in 2003, when his popularity was not at an all-time high, he says, “When I read the script and got to the page where my character kicks a pregnant woman in the stomach, I asked my agent, ‘Don’t I have enough troubles?’”



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Baldwin writes with great knowledge about old films, the art of acting, what he has learned from other actors, and about the differences among television, film and theater. He also takes the opportunity to settle old scores. It appears that the book itself has given rise to some new ones. “The editors at HarperCollins were, I imagine, too busy to do a proper and forensic edit of the material,” he wrote recently in a Facebook update devoted to postpublication corrections and amendments.



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He says that he had no ghostwriter or collaborator for this book. That is impressive, because he’s a highly literate and fluent writer, but it also means that his authorial discipline can abandon him. He has a bit of trouble with transitions.


Photo

Mr. Baldwin, far left, in an undated family photograph.



Credit

via Alec Baldwin



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In the worst example, he’s talking admiringly about the actor Christopher Reeve, who was president of the Creative Coalition, an organization for politically involved actors like Baldwin. One moment Baldwin is standing next to Reeve at the group’s 1995 retreat and all is well.


And then: “Two weeks later he broke his neck and was paralyzed,” Baldwin writes. “Soon after that, I was elected TCC president.”


Baldwin expresses love for his second wife, Hilaria, and his four children, and seems to have found a new peace after a lifetime of battling his demons. “I want to end this book contemplating happiness and renewal,” he says.


The most recent time he hosted “Saturday Night Live,” in February (it was his 17th time, a record), showed that he had weathered one of the hardest things anyone can face: how to square who you are now with who you used to be. During the opening monologue, the camera panned to a photograph of Baldwin in 1990, when he first hosted the show. The contrast was so breathtaking that the audience gasped.



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“I can’t believe that was you!” the young cast member Pete Davidson exclaimed. “You were so handsome!”


They traded personal-appearance insults for a bit, with Davidson marveling at the ravages of time. “At what point when you get older does your whole head, like, expand?” he asked. “Does that happen to everyone? Is it going to happen to me?”


“Yes, Pete,” Baldwin responded, “and along the way if you’re lucky you’ll have an entire career.”


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Published on April 11, 2017 02:54