Alex Kudera's Blog, page 153

pelicans rearrange

I got some good feedback on the unpublished, "My Old Man," and that got me back into the general area of "remembering Dad"--something I'm sure that many of us are prone to engage in--and so, I ordered a new copy of Joe Kudera's two minutes of VHS fame. I should say I purchased a "like new" copy, for under five dollars total, which when it came, did play in my old VCR just fine.

So the poet Joseph Robert Kudera is depicted as a very calm and happy person, and although the poetry is in no danger of ever finding itself confined within the walls of an anthology or textbook edition, his words sound somewhat spiritual, somewhat philosophical, and well, just encouraging if you are trying to find a way to flee your own office environment or find your peace by the shore. You can hear him briefly in the beginning and briefly at the end, and then also, for a couple minutes, just after the St. Augustine segment.

It looks like dozens of small libraries around the country have the VHS tape available for lending, and I just stumbled upon Tower's offer of a brand new copy at $18.98. In these hard times, I'd advise against purchasing new unless you recognize that the wisdom of Jay Roberts (or the aged beauty of A1A's coastal region?) is worth that much.

Yiyi has enjoyed watching "Grandpa" although as soon as the first man in the program appeared, she smiled and said, "It's Grandpa!" But I've since informed her that not every filmed male Floridian in the 60 minute PBS show would be her grandfather.

She particularly likes the pelicans that are filmed as Joe reads his poems off the screen and then walks with Maria Conchita Alonso onto the deck.

Please pardon me while I frag: the green and brown shoes from our meeting in England, 1989; blue sweater; some blonde and white hair fighting it out for last follicle standing; a laid off, downsized, or otherwise unemployed guy who looks rested and at peace, at least for the two-minute segment.

It's almost amazing how affordable studio apartments by the ocean were in 1996--not many places, perhaps, but Joseph still found one for under $500 in northern Florida. And then he found a job at the Gate Station where the public-television people found him.

submitting to mixed media

Here's a nifty new location for all of your mixed-media needs as well as an invitation to submit your own work:

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/notes/matt-mullins/call-for-submissions-of-electronic-literature/2011294479678

Note: to the best of my knowledge, i do not mix media when i write, and i certainly don't film it or call my films "writing" or film myself writing, and i only daydream about the movies a little bit during the course of my normal daydreams during fits of writing; furthermore, i do not necessarily condone the people or the work associated with this whole "mixed media" business, but that should not be understood to mean that i fail to castigate them either.

But as the "blind guy" in Carver's "Cathedral"  put it, "When I drink whiskey . . . "

2nd note: And don't expect anything that shows up at Atticus Review to possess even half the genius of Fight for Your Long Day !

Hah!

Whoa!

Ouch!

I've been hit. I'm down.

(No, it's not too bad. It'll be okay. I'll be alright, folks.)

Have a good friday and an even better saturday, but please take it easy on the you-know-what on sunday.

peace.

and july in philly

I'll be back in Philly for the steamiest month of them all and ready and willing to rock, read, or collapse at any venue in your jurisdiction. The Chestnut Hill Book Festival and Faber Books in 30th Street Station are stuck with me on July 9 and 8, but other dates around then are open if you need me. The Fees, Monsieur Finder and his lovely wife Madam Appearance have in fact strayed from my social circle, so I'm sure it won't be difficult for you and I to agree on a lovely moment together should such an opportunity present itself.

Here's the fully updated schedule for May through July:

April 30, Saturday, 1 to 3 p.m. (signing only), Books-A-Million, Anderson Shopping Mall, Anderson, SC

May 6, Friday, 7 p.m., City Lights Bookstore, Sylva, NC

May 7, Saturday, 3 p.m., Blue Ridge Books, Waynesville, NC

May 14, Saturday, 1 to 3 p.m. (signing only), Fiction Addiction, Greenville, SC

July 8, Friday, 4 to 6 p.m. (signing only), Faber Books, 30th Street Station

(Faber has sold 29 copies of Fight for Your Long Day , emphatically crushing the competition and supporting John McNally's point that books are often best sold in locales where they take place. Alas, I can only dream that one day they'll have a book-trading annex in the men's room on the opposite side of the station.)

Chesnut Hill Book Festival
July 9, Saturday, 4:30 to 5:30 p.m., The Stagecrafters, 8130 Germantown Avenue

All of these, of course, are free and open to the public.

Thanks so much if one of them finds its way into your schedule.

spoken words

This is the first audio book review of Fight for Your Long Day, courtesy of  Author Exposure; the reviewer used CinchCast to deliver the spoken goods. Meanwhile, the first European reviewer, with my encouragement, posted on amazon.fr and amazon.de and responded quite favorably.

Last night, the novel got trashed on American amazon by someone who reduced the whole effort to "Bush bashing"; I found this "review" particularly questionable because there is so much satire in the novel of people and ideas that one would associate with opposing our last Bush and his views and actions (such as unions, academics, "guilty liberals," urban mayors, universities, therapists, Afrocentrists, etc.). An irony here is that at least a couple favorable reviews suggested there should have been more directed and consistent "Bush bashing," which I suppose, is just another reason it's all hopeless.
But right after finding that negative review, no doubt lurking late at night to make me feel the full misery of an exhausted sleeplessness, I then chanced upon John McNally's "advice from an unrepentant novelist" on how to treat negative reviews on amazon. Perfect timing, John; thanks! In a nutshell, he advises not to reply to reviews at all, but to encourage more friends who enjoyed the book to post positive reviews so that casual amazon browsers will see many more positive than negative reviews. His idea seems based upon the good sense that, alas, many of us, even when we are looking for something that will take some time to read, will quickly move on if we don't like the very first thing we see.

OK, following McNally's advice, friends (and why not throw in a "and fellow countrymen"), if you're reading, and I haven't recently bugged you about some sales shit you could do to support my novel, not yours, please do take a moment to give Fight for Your Long Day that extra star on amazon. Or goodreads. Or shelfari. Or that groovy library thing you do. Or.

Good. Accomplished, John. Thanks for the tip. Me enjoying your self-help for novelists, as impossible as you know that sounds, and in particular the section where I read that you were at one time an adjunct even more unfavorably employed and poorly paid than Cyrus Duffleman. Well, "enjoy" isn't the right word.

But back to spoken news, word on the street is that an audio book of Fight for Your Long Day is at least agreed to in principle by all who might agree to such.

So I guess that's it. We won't make you read ever again.

southern leg

The Southern leg of the Fight for Your Long Day tour kicks off in sunny Anderson, South Carolina at the most fashionable Books-A-Million in the Anderson Shopping Center. On Saturday, April 30 I'll sign copies there from 1 to 3 p.m. and then sprint to the discount sneaker store to sign autographed pairs of aged Jordans and preowned Answers, all in support of my tired, old man sneaker charity, a specialty program designed to support fallen arches and sore ankles from sea to shining sea. Get your bucket of saltwater ready!

After Anderson, we're taking the show a bit further up the road to scenic southwestern North Carolina, where our version of the home-and-home series means readings Friday May 6 at 7 p.m. at City Lights in the beautiful downtown of Sylva, North Carolina and then on Saturday a trip up the winding highway to a May 7 3 p.m. reading at Blue Ridge Books in Waynesville, North Carolina. These two Indy stores both have a spectacular selection, particularly relative to their square footage, and the Blue Ridge even has a full service coffee shop where you can get caffeinated, sandwiched up, and ready to rock and be read to all afternoon.

But that's not all!

(I imagine some of you are now expecting a stainless-steel fridge offer; alas, it is not to be.)

The following weekend, Fiction Addiction in Greenville, South Carolina plays host to Cyrus Duffleman with a Saturday, May 14 signing event from 1 to 3 p.m. Word on the street is that the Duffler plans to shake it old school and the authorities are closely monitoring the scene!

To recap:

April 30, Saturday, 1 to 3 p.m. (signing only), Books-A-Million, Anderson Shopping Mall, Anderson, SC
May 6, Friday, 7 p.m., City Lights Bookstore, Sylva, NC

May 7, Saturday, 3 p.m., Blue Ridge Books, Waynesville, NC

May 14, Saturday, 1 to 3 p.m. (signing only), Fiction Addiction, Greenville, SC

But for now, back to April 11.

fast food fiction

It was good to see the immortal Kentucky Fried Chicken making an appearance by Dave Newman's "She Throws Herself Forward to Stop the Fall," published on the Atticus Books website. This was on the same week that I made my at least annual pilgrimmage through Ha Jin's "After Cowboy Chicken Came to Town," my favorite fast food tale of all. It's a story I've taught for at least the past ten years.

I wouldn't want to minimize the brilliance of either Mr. Soul (as in De La) or Mr. Jin (as in Ha) when I fondly also recall my favorite fast food rap, De La Soul's "Bitties in the BK Lounge" and its deconstructive approach to gender and counter service. But of course, all of us in on the true know of all knows realize that a paltry hymn about whoppers and fries could never compare to Jin's ample paragraphs about fleshy fried white and dark meat and the transcontinental, globalized angst such grease could generate.

Years ago, inspired by my days of bussing of dishes, I wrote a meager tale called, "Waiters of the World Unite," but alas, it's either trapped in the lowest, least favorable spot in my storage space or else, sadly, it is gone for good.

Well, the world will go on, and that wasn't a true tale of fast food anyway. In fact, I was working at a middling but decidedly table-service restaurant.

Dinner?

idealism

If you're looking for some long, lost idealism to add to your working week, here's a healthy dollop served up by Queensborough Community College Professor Charles Neuman. Because he teaches physics and astronomy it is indeed tempting to suggest that this young man has his head stuck in the clouds.

But it's good to know he can at least temper his positive vibrations with a little departmental conflict, or at least tension:

"I am starting to see that idealism is a threat. My colleagues' simple expressions of idealism invoke disproportionate responses of vitriol. There's something primal about this hatred. I posit that idealism represents youth, and those who feel they have lost it, or never had it, are so pained they can only respond with fury. It's sad, really."

To continue Charles's thought, I've noticed that sometimes my collegues' simple expressions of vitriol invoke disproportionate responses of idealism. It's probably just all the headache and disagreement associated with any kind of faculty, and yet another reason to avoid extensive communication with teachers--they always have a minor quibble, ancillary thought, competing notion, neurotic twist, or other intriguing consideration that can make discourse among them positively exhausting. I've heard that lecturers can be the worst.

Educators of the World Disagree!

But may you stay forever young, Charles, Clark Hall, and teaching, that most noble and paradoxical of all the professions.

Charles and I shared an old building during our "frosh" year of college, and reading his words and being reminded of Clark Hall have successfully "youthened" my own working day.

And now, alas, it's back to grading.

rare books

Over spring break in sunny Philadelphia, I did have opportunity to drive over the glorious Ben Franklin Bridge to scenic South Jersey for a tour of the school house where Between the Covers now stashes thousands and thousands of rare books along with a dozen plus employees, functional urinals in the Boys bathroom, and memories of the second grade.

Over lunch at Five Guys, a first for me and where I winced at the fact that burgers, fries, and cokes can run over $20 for two, I learned of a letter from Melville retailing for $35,000 as well as an original copy of Walker's Appeal that sold to the University of Virginia for close to three times that amount. The history behind David Walker's early nineteenth century publishing is amazing, something we were never taught in American history as best I remember it, and yet it was the Melville letter five inches from my face that kept my attention. In it, he is writing to his publisher later in life when commercial houses have become much more reluctant to publish his writing. And yes, this would be the writing after Moby Dick, "the good stuff," at least from the perspective of how Melville is taught today--Pierre to Benito Cereno to Billy Budd left for dead in a desk drawer.

Well, I suppose as e-books continue to gain market share and paper quality continues to decline and physical books and stores continue to disappear, books currently considered "rare" will become increasingly so by some definitions of the word.

Here's some history of how Between the Covers has evolved as a successful book business over the past twenty-five years. Enjoy.

yes, lawrence, i know i shoot myself in the foot. . .

Yes, Lawrence, I wish I could book readings in all of the hip independent bookstores all over the country, and it does seem like the natural alliance could or should be between indy publishers and indy stores. And sure, why we're at it, I could or should also wish I were you, Mr. Ferlinghetti, and I guess the lone drawback here is that you're quite a bit older than me, and so perhaps destined to leave this life sooner. Of couse, one could easily twist that into a positive as well.

But my limited experience as a "published author," so far, has shown me that the Indy bookstores in cities don't have a lot of space for a small-press title like Fight for Your Long Day. The shops are small, and they have to stock a lot of mainstream, established stuff they know they can sell, and then they already have their allegiances in place and must help their loyal local author friends and customers, too. And of course, there are just too many millions of books to choose from, so I'm incredibly naive to think any store would put a big stack of my novel near the front door.

In one indy in Philly, I thought I was doing a favor by signing the single copy of my novel in the store, and then I thought I was having a great, engaging conversation with the clerk that would lead to an Ingram order of all Atticus titles in print, at least a single copy of each. But when I returned a few hours later, I was told that they would not be able to commit to such an order or to anything more for my Philly novel. I was disappointed, and even felt some regret that I had signed the copy they had (I know that sounds bad, but it's true). Of course, later in the visit, at another independent, the friendly store owner didn't want me to sign the single copy in case it had to be returned.

Meanwhile, one franchise in Philly that is part of a smaller chain has displayed and already sold 23 copies of Fight for Your Long Day, and in general, the chains are ordering multiple copies--from 5 to 36--and moving them. And they had space for me to sign and read and discuss, and, well, I felt welcome at Barnes and Noble, Books-A-Million, and Faber, and I'm very grateful for everything they did for me last week.

Also, how antichain could I possibly be when just after college I worked at a Borders as a seasonal temp. It was the only job I could get in a bad economy years ago, and I then even managed a seasonal remainders-only store a couple years after that. It was part of a smaller chain, National Book Warehouse I believe, and that $8.50 per hour manager's job existed temporarily due to recession (dollar books moved well that holiday season), and it's a sad week because the Borders I worked in is closing and a friend who stayed on there and helped sell books for 20 years could be out of work and of course, the focus there has been on reducing inventory so the store I worked in has never carried my book and never will. In fact, the store will become just another empty husk in another American downtown until another chain, with another kind of product, is crazy enough to try to operate at a profit despite the gigantic overhead, city taxes, etc.

Indy bookstores, and independent brick and mortar stores and restaurants in general, are wonderful, and I wish I could afford to patronize them regularly. Regardless, my saying or not saying this has not helped me gain much shelf space in these stores. I'd love for that to change.

Fight for Your Long Day, Lawrence Ferlinghetti!

a lost novel

Yes, I'm reading the "lost novel" of Roberto Bolano, or at least the first quarter of it, as published and translated in The Paris Review, Number 196. Because I purchased this single copy in a bookstore along with the latest issue of Boulevard, I'm somehow reminded of Bolano's "Vagabond in France and Belgium" from Last Evenings On Earth, a story in part about searching for the only author listed in an old issue of a literary journal whose name B does not immediately recognize. It nags at him and leads to something of a quest but also the classic sad Bolano story. What is it about that man's writing that is so intoxicating?

In the issue of Boulevard, there is scathing Anis Shivani piece abiout the MFA programs. He basically destroys them with ridiculous generalizations which are also at times rather clever. Although I'm hardly an insider at AWP (I have been a member for the past few years, but I don't have an MFA, and I teach business writing and contemporary literature, not fiction writing), it seems worth noting that his main argument about MFA program writing as mediocre and "standardized" (he uses the term "house style") is an unoriginal one, and also that there are some writers who teach and learn in these programs who are absolutely amazing.

But I like some of the international writers Shivani wants to recognize as superior although it seems superficial to want to bash the programs in one fell swoop. He creates a binarism, a false one, and that's far too easy. Silly. And yet Shivani's invective is fun to read. I suspect most of us who will read the essay in Boulevard are somehow attached to the programs. I've also read his attack on the "Kirby poet" in the South Carolina Review, and I must say he can draw you in and aggresively lead you to his conclusions.

Ecrasez l'infame, Shivani! I have a feeling that Shivani would enjoy Fight for Your Long Day.