Karla Huebner's Blog, page 24

Novel: Deer Season

It's been awhile since I've given a shout-out to anybody else's book... it seemed like there was perhaps a bit of a lull in book announcements among my friends. However, I've now got some new ones to mention, so that's all to the good. First, my colleague Erin Flanagan from over in the English department has a novel out! Erin has previously published two story collections, but this is her debut novel, available from University of Nebraska Press in September (you can order it now). Deer Season is set in Nebraska, is something of a mystery story, and it's getting some rave reviews already over on Goodreads!

Oliver's Travels

I've been meaning to mention Clifford Garstang's new novel Oliver's Travels , which came out recently from our mutual publisher Regal House and is getting some very good reviews!

Ollie Tucker, a recent college graduate and philosophy devotee, obsesses about truth and the source of knowledge, questioning everything he hears from those close to him. He entangles himself in a ridiculous yet sad relationship with a young woman named Mary, who is suited to him only in that she's equally eager to pursue a life with someone with whom she has so few common interests. Meanwhile, hoping to become a writer, Ollie invents an alter ego named Oliver, who lives an adventurous and cosmopolitan life. But in addition to Ollie's problems with Mary and his dysfunctional family, he's gnawed by a possible repressed memory of his mysterious uncle Scotty (who may or may not be dead) that threatens his relationships and his sexuality. He can't quite remember, and he knows his memory is unreliable. What is the truth? What should he do?

Juliana Converse has written an excellent review at Lit Pub if you'd like to know more before getting your own copy (paperback, e-book or special edition hardcover) from Regal House or your local independent bookstore. It's a funny and sad book with lots of heart.

Yes, There's a Big Toyen Retrospective

Those who follow matters surreal or Czech or artistic closely might be aware that there is a major Toyen retrospective currently on view in Prague. It's called, bilingually, Toyen: Snící rebelka / Toyen: The Dreaming Rebel, and it is curated by Anna Pravdová, Annie Le Brun, and Annabelle Görgen-Lammers.

Naturally, back when the show was in the planning stages, there was no reason to imagine that a global pandemic would hit a year before the opening and still be afflicting world health and world travel in 2021. I hate to think how the curators and their colleagues must have agonized during the past year, wondering whether the show would indeed open on time in April or what. Publishing a book during a pandemic is stressful enough, but the uncertainties of book launching and promotion certainly pale in comparison to the anxieties surrounding putting together a large multi-venue exhibition.

Fortunately, the show did open, but with very limited attendance allowed due to health restrictions. I spent most of my summer break waiting to see if the Czech Republic would let in American tourists, and as soon as I got the good word, I was booking my flight. I was afraid that if I didn't book right away and leave as soon as possible, the pandemic might go wild again (which it already pretty much has, although I think it is still possible to fly from the US and be allowed into the Czech Republic).

My stay in Prague was extremely short and coincided with some insanely humid weather (cool temperatures that were nonetheless scarcely bearable due to the humidity) which I'm sure connected to the terrible rains and flooding in western Germany. However, I did get to see the exhibition twice, as well as going to a few other things and meeting up with a very small number of people. I can also report that although the Czech Republic has its anti-vaxxers, the population of Prague was very diligent about masking in indoor spaces, which was a relief after so much neglect of masking back in the US.

In any case, the exhibition was absolutely gorgeous, beautifully displayed. Totally worth seeing more than once! Of course, as a Toyen scholar I did have some criticisms, which you can learn about in my review of the show for the CRAACE website's blog (CONTINUITY/RUPTURE: ART AND ARCHITECTURE IN CENTRAL EUROPE 1918-1939), but for the most part they don't relate to the experience of viewing the art.

So if you can see this show when it moves on to Hamburg or Paris, by all means do so. I also heard (long ago) that it would come to Chicago, but I haven't been able to verify that that is still going to happen. Let's hope so.

National Gallery Prague, Waldstein Riding School, 9 April to 22 August 2021 (sold out)
Hamburger Kunsthalle, 24 September 2021 to 13 February 2022
Musée d’Art Moderne de Paris, 25 March to 24 July 2022

Two Zoom Talks on Toyen in One Week!

Two organizations--the San Francisco Public Library and the Czech Center in New York--kindly invited me to do full-length Zoom talks for them on Toyen. By chance, they ended up being just three days apart, so it was important to make sure they were different from one another, especially as the talks are now available long-term on YouTube. Both talks were well attended live and there were many excellent audience questions at each one.

The talk hosted by the Czech Center took place August 5th, and focused on the major Toyen retrospective that is currently on view in Prague (closing August 22nd but sold out). The show will move on to Hamburg, Germany, and to Paris, so additional viewers will get to see it in those cities.



The talk hosted by the San Francisco Public Library took place August 8th, and addressed more of the topics covered in Magnetic Woman. I'm thrilled to report that the Library has purchased no fewer than ten copies of Magnetic Woman, which must surely rank them as the best place in the world to find a library copy!



The Czech Center video is about one hour long and the SFPL video is closer to an hour and a half.

Get Hooked on Magnetic Woman

Lots and lots has been happening, particularly regarding publicity for Magnetic Woman! More details soon, but let's see if I can successfully add the San Francisco Public Library's one-minute YouTube "Get Hooked on" video for the book.

50 Classic Short Novels I've Read (or Not)

This morning, waking up early to cough a week or so after I thought I'd shaken a minor unidentified ear-nose-throat virus (it began in my ear), I chanced to see what sort of news my smartphone had to offer. I try to avoid doing this, but like many things in life, it's an addictive practice and admittedly provides me with a fine array of news not just about covid-19 and the ex-president, but about Stonehenge, ancient hominins, camping, fungus-infected ants preserved in amber, and advice columns by at least three different people.

Of late it's been offering up a lot of literary and writer-oriented stuff, and so this morning I found myself devouring a list on Lithub of short novels (under 200 pages) written before 1970.

Now, although I am trying very hard to read fiction by current authors, I'm more the kind of reader who goes for underappreciated gems that have nonetheless passed the test of time. It's no surprise that I'm a historian of modern rather than contemporary art. Anyway, while as the list-maker (Emily Temple) admits, it's sort of a white-male-dominated list, it's still an exciting list and I was thrilled to see so many familiar and new titles.

I'm going to break up the list into what I've read, what I've meant to read (or at least knew of), and what I've never heard of.

Read
Adolfo Bioy Casares, The Invention of Morel: The list began with this! I'm stunned. I read this just after graduating from college, when I was interning at an experimental theater and checking out books from the Mill Valley public library. I read a lot that summer, most of it pretty famous (from Joyce's Ulysses to all of Raymond Chandler).
Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles: Not sure how old I was when I read this. High school? Junior high? Grade school?I read all of the Sherlock Holmes stories at least once. Probably ought to read them again.
Italo Calvino, The Cloven Viscount: Ah, what a delight. I discovered Italo Calvino just before starting college, thanks to (of all things) a book review in Time. I really need to reread this. It's been too long. I love Italo Calvino.
Richard Brautigan, In Watermelon Sugar: Did I read this in high school or in college? I read a fair amount of Brautigan and Kurt Vonnegut all around the same time. It's what we did in the 1970s.
Thomas Mann, Death in Venice: First read this in 1980, for a class. I read it while sunbathing nude in a meadow, which I put into the pandemic novella I wrote last year because such things belong in fiction. Of course, it could be argued that I should have read it at the beach instead. It's the kind of thing I would read at the beach if I hung out at beaches. Grim, diseased, with long sentences.
Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle: Probably read this in high school. The Haunting of Hill House was the Shirley Jackson I read many times as a child, but I read other Shirley Jackson books in high school.
Françoise Sagan, Bonjour Tristesse: I read this in junior high or high school, probably the latter. My recollection of it is not all that clear; time to reread.
Franz Kafka, The Trial: First read this in high school, when I devoured Kafka.
Djuna Barnes, Nightwood: I believe I picked this up in or just after college. Another of those curiously influential books twisting my mind.
Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea: I love Jean Rhys, but this is my least favorite of her books. I've only read it once. I did give my mother a copy since she loved Jane Eyre, but I have no idea what my mother thought of this take on the characters.
Muriel Spark, The Girls of Slender Means: Guessing that I first read this is my twenties, when I read practically every Muriel Spark novel that then existed (and which all, in the library copies, showed Spark in what seemed a bizarrely outdated and extravagant style of hair and makeup). These days I read this and several other Spark novels frequently and do not read certain of the others at all.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby: I suppose I must have first read this in high school, back when I was somewhat baffled by the idea of someone's voice sounding like money. Like coins? Like paper money? I wasn't sure.
Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin: Curiously, this is one I only read quite recently, and enjoyed it. I haven't read all that much Nabokov. I always enjoy The Real Life of Sebastian Knight; I liked Lolita well enough back in my teens or twenties but found it rather horrifying more recently; I was not that wild about Ada.
Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange: Read this in college, or possibly high school. I know I saw the movie in college. The invented slang intrigued me.

Meant to Read Someday, or Knew Of, or Read Others by the Author
John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men: Never got around to this; read The Red Pony and The Grapes of Wrath.
George Orwell, Animal Farm: Yeah, I know I should. And it almost seems like maybe I did.
James M. Cain, The Postman Always Rings Twice: I am pretty sure I somehow missed this.
Nella Larsen, Passing: Knew of this because I read Jessie Redmon Fauset's Plum Bun, which gets discussed in relation to Passing.
Albert Camus, The Stranger: Somehow never got around to it.
Kate Chopin, The Awakening: Started it in high school, apparently got distracted and didn't finish it.
Leo Tolstoy, The Death of Ivan Ilyich: I have no idea why I haven't read any Tolstoy yet. Wait, I did read something he wrote on art, thinking I might assign it to students.
Christopher Isherwood, A Single Man: I read an awful lot of Isherwood in high school, but not this one. Saw the movie.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground: Read a lot of Dostoevsky in junior high, but I don't think this was among them. Could be wrong.
Anna Kavan, Ice: I've read other works by Kavan, but never heard of this one.
Jean Toomer, Cane: I've known who Jean Toomer was for ages, but never looked for or run across his books.
Knut Hamsun, Hunger: Ought to read it, haven't yet.
James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room: Unsure why I haven't ended up reading any James Baldwin yet.
Willa Cather, O Pioneers! One of those books my mother read growing up that I haven't gotten to yet. I did read at least one Cather short story long ago.
Herman Melville, Billy Budd. Didn't realize this was short. Moby Dick has been on my to-read list.
Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49: Not sure why I didn't read any Pynchon back in my twenties.
George Eliot, Silas Marner: This always sounded like something that might bore me.
Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's: This might be a nice antidote to In Cold Blood, which I've read at least twice. Saw the movie on an airplane shortly before the pandemic, oddly enough.
Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart: Have heard this is good (I mean, before reading the LitHub list).
N. Scott Momaday, House Made of Dawn: Know of the author, haven't yet read him.
Philip K. Dick, Ubik: Read a few others by Dick and mostly enjoyed them; not this one yet.
Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart: Read one of her books in my twenties and have never run across any others. The one I read was destroyed by salt water and I'm baffled as to which one it was.
Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God: Keep meaning to read this...
Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome: One of those books that I suspected would be dull and so have not read.
Joan Lindsay, Picnic at Hanging Rock: Saw the movie, didn't know it was based on a book.
Angela Carter, The Magic Toyshop: OK, I know I should read Carter's fiction as well as her nonfiction...

Somehow Completely Off My Radar
Juan Rulfo, Pedro Páramo
James Weldon Johnson, The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man
J.G. Ballard, The Drowned World
Kenzaburo Oe, A Personal Matter
Yasunari Kawabata, Snow Country
Robert Walser, Jakob von Gunten
Leonard Gardner, Fat City
Chester Himes, If He Hollers Let Him Go
Charles Portis, Norwood
Barbara Comyns, Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead

Readers are invited to add to the list (not doubling up on authors). A quick look at my shelves didn't offer much. I was surprised that my copy of Heinrich Böll's The End of a Mission was slightly over 200 pages, and I forgot to check if it was pre-1970 (it is). Giorgio Bassani's The Garden of the Finzi-Continis is just under 200 pages. I lost a lot of books to salt water, long ago.

Myths and Rules About Writing

Aspiring writers, and even experienced writers, often look for advice on how to write better, more productively, more salably, and so on. This is natural and on the whole a good thing. It's a major way of learning to avoid pitfalls and not reinvent the wheel, for one thing.

At the same time, it's important to know to take a lot of this advice with a grain of salt. Just because something is often true, or works for many writers, doesn't mean it's always true or works for all writers.

On Sunday a group of us were on Zoom talking about a little of this. My friend Dirk van Nouhuys mentioned the Odyssey as something he had enjoyed in childhood, and observed that, in contrast to what we're told a protagonist should do, Odysseus doesn't change. He doesn't even look all that different after ten years fighting in Troy and ten years finding his way home--his dog recognizes him. Yet we always hear that the protagonist of a short story or novel must change. Well, this set us to thinking of other major works, or at least famous works, in which the protagonist doesn't change. Voltaire's Candide doesn't really change. It didn't seem like don Quixote did either. Nor Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair. In more recent fiction, people noted that Sam Spade, Hercule Poirot, and Miss Marple don't change, which suggests that in series mysteries, change is optional for the detective-protagonist and has become more common over time. Now, of course, externals do change in all of these works, so perhaps we can figure that in Western fiction, something has to change, even if not the protagonist. I'm not sure that change is necessary in some of the nonwestern traditions, but I don't know enough about, for instance, Ojibwe narrative tradition.

In addition to asserting that the protagonist must change, people also often exhort us to "show, not tell" and to make sure to throw plenty of obstacles and complications into a novel. While these prescriptions are not bad advice, and can be very useful to follow, they certainly aren't ironclad rules for creating good fiction.

In the realm of advice on process, again there are various prescriptions that sound good but aren't always as important as you might think. One of these is the notion that a writer must write every day. Sounds good, doesn't it? I've never paid a lot of attention to this advice since I do write most days, in some way or other, but Tim Grahl presents a good argument for a different way of approaching how often and how much to write. Basically, he suggests that writing to complete a project can make more sense than fretting that one didn't happen to write for a while. I'd add to this that the beginning writer does need to write a lot, and frequently, because that's how one learns one's craft, but--as one of the commenters on Grahl's post notes--some of our writing is in the form of emails, blog posts, tweets, journaling, and the like, which also counts to some extent. It may not move us along the path of finishing articles, stories, or books, but it's keeping us in the habit of putting words together for ourselves and others to read. I sometimes go for months (usually during the academic year) without getting much written on anything that has no deadline, but while this annoys me, it doesn't worry me, because I know I'll get back to my various writing projects and over time they'll get finished.

Which rules do you find over-emphasized about writing?

All the Stats About Middle-Grade Books

Now that I've begun, in my kooky way, a novel for kids rather than yet another book for adults, I wanted to see what kind of word count I ought to be aiming for. After all, while I read huge numbers of children's books growing up and occasionally still read some, this is not an area of publishing that I've really followed.

Well, I found that middle-grade books tend to be somewhere in the 40,000 to 69,000 word range, which sounds just right for what I'm expecting to end up with. But I also found out a whole lot more.

Children's author Hannah Holt has compiled an amazing and incredibly useful set of statistics about middle-grade authors and their books. While for some things it would be nice to have a larger author sample size (76 authors participated), for the most part she was able to offer a fascinating view into this particular subset of publishing, with lots of handy graphs (and I'm not even big on graphs, but these really worked for me).

Not only did she find the usual word count range (in the middle of a surprisingly wide total range) for books for this age group, but she got data on advance sizes for large and small publishers, how advances correlated to agented vs unagented authors (guess what, having an agent makes a big difference in the size of your advance--not a surprise but good to have confirmed), how much this set of authors tend to make per year from their writing, how many hours a week they tend to write, and a whole host of other interesting data.

Major kudos to Hannah Holt for surveying authors and putting together such a detailed and well organized account of what she found! She also surveyed YA authors, chapter book authors (chapter books are for the age group between picture books and middle-grade), and picture book authors (in three parts, starting with this page). It looks like Hannah Holt has lots of other great stuff on her site too, so if children's books and how they are written and published is of interest to you, definitely check her out!

I Suddenly Begin a Middle-Grade Novel

School's out and I've been busy! There's promotion work to do both for Magnetic Woman and, in advance, for In Search of the Magic Theater. I also put together the spring newsletter for the Czechoslovak Studies Association. But mostly, I've been writing.

What am I writing, you may ask?

Well, I always have quite a few projects underway--some scholarly and some fiction. Some are books I've been working on for years, on and off. Others are fairly new or even simply in the planning stages. It's hard to finish writing any book during the school year because my time (and mental energy) is so fragmented. I can get a lot done all the same, but not wrap up a book. Summer break is when I try, these days, to get at least one book done per year, because in the summer I have days and months to focus and I can read an entire manuscript through easily and see what's missing or not working.

For three summers now, I've picked one nearly done project to finish up. And guess what? It's been the same one each year. Yet, oddly enough, in 2019 I finished two novels (one old, one new) and in 2020 I wrote a novella. (I would probably have finished a novel too in 2020, but I had to spend a lot of time prepping my fall remote classes, one of which was one I'd never taught before, let alone remotely.) In other words, I simply ended up working on books other than the one I thought I'd finish.

So, this year is looking true to form. I said yes, I want to finish that nearly done book that I began many years ago and still love. But what happened? In mid-May I had an idea for a whole new book that felt like it would be fun and easy to write, so I set to work. It's been purring right along and I've got about 13,000 words written, not counting masses of additional notes and partial scenes that might go in slightly later. The unexpected thing is that this is not a book for adults, which all of my other books are. This is what's known as a middle-grade book, which is to say that the anticipated audience is aged about eight to twelve.

It's a lot of fun, and I'm guessing that I'll finish it and still have time to see if I can wrap up one of those nearly done books that have been inching toward completion for years. Maybe even the one that has waited the longest to be finished! We shall see.

Of course, with two novels, one novella, and a story collection all seeking publishers, it'd be nice if I had an agent again to handle shopping them around while I promote the published book and the soon-to-be published book and write my new books. Unfortunately, looking for agents is yet another of those time-consuming tasks in a writer's life.

Museums as Agents of Change

I'm so pleased to see that my friend Mike Murawski's book Museums as Agents of Change: A Guide to Becoming a Changemaker will be available Monday from Rowman & Littlefield / American Alliance Of Museums. In this book, Mike looks at how we, as individuals, can expand the work of museums to live up to their potential to serve as agents of change--how they can bring people together, contribute to local communities, and change people’s lives. He asks how can we better recognize the meaningful work that museums are doing to enact change and how can we work together to build a stronger culture of equity and care within museums. Such questions are increasingly vital for all museum professionals to consider, and are also important questions for all of us as community members.

Museums as Agents of Change is available in hardback and paperback, and soon also as an e-book.