Benjamin Whitmer's Blog, page 22

Quote

From Franz Kafka's Diaries, 1910-1923. Spotted on The Rumpus.

Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs one hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate—he has little success in this—but with the other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins, for he sees different (and more) things than do the others; after all, dead as he is in his own lifetime, he is the real survivor. This assumes that he does not need both hands, or more hands than he has, in his struggle against despair.

Still life of shit found while cleaning out underneath my carseat that makes me dubious about my abilities as a parent, human

Obviously, this doesn't include lighters. Otherwise the title would be "Still life of mound of lighters with some other shit."

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Book nook podcast

My conversation with my favorite interviewer, Vick Mickunas, is online here.

Hard hitting songs for hard-hit people

Pilfered from Slowboat Films' tumblr.

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You can read more about the book here. And, of course, there's also the Hazel Dickens album by the same name, which is one of my favorites. This song ain't actually on the album — there's a paucity of Hazel Dickens on YouTube — but it counts.

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Quote

From an interview with James Lee Burke. The whole thing'll just make you like him the more, I promise.

What's key to a successful life?

You do it a day at a time, I think. If I've learned anything it's that maybe you don't learn a lot. I feel as young as I was when I was 21. I'm probably a little more patient than I was then, probably less impetuous, but otherwise I think it's one of the great myths that age brings you great wisdom. What we learn ultimately, I think, is probably that the things that are valuable really are not purchased with money. It's like one of those admonitions that's true: Money keeps a mess of grief off your porch, but the things that really count are the things that you never can buy – family and friends, the good life.

My two cents

For as long as I've known my wife she's wanted a muscle car. Now both of our vehicles have been just about driven into the ground, and I'm pushing her to get one. America's got no debtor's prison, run it until gets repoed, that's my motto. Besides which, if you've got a fast car and a couple of good guns, you've got no excuse not to be making money. In fact, tough economic times kind of demand it.

But the thing is, she can't make up her mind between a Camaro, Challenger, or Mustang.

I submit this as evidence that the only, and I mean only, choice is the Challenger.

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My requirements are different. I don't really give a shit about performance as long as the radio works and I can mount a pistol holster under the steering wheel. Meaning, my considerations run more like this:

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And, of course, this:

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A. Tom Collins — "Pants Off Dance Off"

Great song from Denver's own A. Tom Collins.

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Getting out

This is mainly another book news wrap, so I apologize. But it looks like Satan Is Real is in the New York Times Sunday Book Review again this week, this time as an Editors' Choice. Also, I was very, very excited to see that singer-songwriter Marshall Chapman has recommended it. There's a review from Chapter 16 here, too. And one from Journey with Jesus. It also seems that Noir at the Bar was a hit, in that we made St. Louis' bestseller list in anticipation of the event. (That's what I'm chalking it up to, anyways.)

In the meantime, Pike has gotten a couple of mentions as well. Nik Korpon said really nice things about it in this Booked podcast, and there's a review over at the exquisitely named Dangerous Dan's Book Blog.

I actually feel kind of bad, posting these clusters of press stuff. But I figure it won't be long until they taper out, and then it'll be back to random rants.

One thing I really meant to post about earlier this week was an event I attended featuring Jesse Bullington, Jason Heller, and Stephen Graham Jones. It was a panel discussion moderated by Mario Acavedo, and much of it focused on boundaries of violence in literature, a subject very near to my heart. As an example of a story that uses violence well, Stephen Graham Jones pointed to "The Night They Missed the Horror Show" by Joe Lansdale. You can read it online here, and, yeah, he's right, it's amazing. The event was at the Broadway Book Mall, which I, embarrassingly, hadn't been to yet — something that I have the feeling I'll be compensating for in the near future. It's a great place for new and used books.

I read everything Stephen Graham Jones puts out, of course, but I wasn't familiar with Jason Heller or Jesse Bullington, save some general name recognition and social media interaction. But that'll change, in that I picked up their latest:

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I don't really do life goals very often. Not because I can't be improved, but because most of mine are so simple as to be stupid, running to shit like "be cranky with my kids less." Or "shoot my gun more." Or, most likely, "write more." (Be kind, and don't point out "drink less.") But the one thing I really want to start doing more of is attending book stuff. Readings, panels, etc.

Thing is, I've been very insular for a very long time. Most of that has to do with the nature of writing, of course. I write slow, I tend to over-research — whether or not it shows — and coming by free time is hard to do. But I really need to start carving some out. Denver has a vibrant community of readers and writers, and I want to see more of it.

Book nook

Kind of late notice here, but Vick Mickunas of WYSO's Book Nook interviewed me a couple of weeks back, and it looks like it aired today at 1:30 EST. I hear it will air again on Sunday at 11:00 EST, and you can listen to it streaming live over the computer by hitting the Listen Now button on WYSO's website. Also, there should be a podcast up in about a week.

This interview was a lot of fun. Especially because it was with Vick, who, besides being a really nice guy and a hell of an interviewer, runs the show out of Yellow Springs, Ohio, and writes reviews for the Dayton Daily News. There's a special satisfaction in getting to talk where your family and friends can tune in and listen to you.

Also, I was remiss in my Noir at the Bar wrap, in that I forgot to include Jedidiah Ayres' far superior wrap. So here it is.

Lastly, Thanks to this book from Stephen Graham Jones, I spent most of last night kicking the covers, not really sleeping. And I didn't even get past the first story.

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I don't want to give anything away, but there's a reason why I load the backpack with Clif bars, jerky, panchos, etc., pretty much every time I go hiking with the kids.

Noir at the Bar roundup

I finally made Noir at the Bar last night. Finally. I got to see Rod Wiethop, who drove two goddamn hours to make it to the event, meet some new people, including Sonia Coney, Jason Makansi, and the great Robert Randisi, and, of course, do a little reading.

Maybe it's just because I don't actually live there, but the sense of community among writers and readers seems palpable in St. Louis. The best example I can think of is in the relationship between the Noir at the Bar folks and Subterranean Books, one of the great independent bookstores. Not too long ago, Subterranean Books were in some financial trouble, and to help out, Scott Phillips and Jedidiah Ayres published a collection of short stories by Noir at the Bar alumni, and sold it exclusively through them, with all the profits going back into the bookstore. As I learned this morning, it was their #2 bestseller last year.

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I had a hell of a time. Huge thanks to Jed and Scott for having me, for not letting me pay for a damn thing while I was down there, and, best of all, for hanging out after the event, shooting the shit. I've been wanting to do it bad for a long time. There's nobody more generous or thoughtful than Jedidiah Ayres, and it was every bit as great as I'd hoped.

The only downside was that I got stuck in the airport for a couple of hours, thanks to high winds in Denver. But even that turned into a blessing. See, I'd had the foresight to pick up Scott Phillips' The Adjustment the night before. It's the funniest, darkest, most brilliant noir novel I've read since Jim Thompson, I think. Don't believe me? Here's just one snippet of dialogue:

"Fern was a mean woman, and her daughters all three mean and crabbed as she was. I'll tell you something on the QT. I was married to that woman thirty-seven miserable years, and she only let me make a woman out of her eight times, and the last three of those was by force. I didn't care no more about it, I was done with her. When she hanged herself, you know what I said? Good."

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Needless to say, I finished it before landing this afternoon. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Of course, I didn't sleep at all, so that's where I'm headed now. Again, I can't say how much fun I had.