Monday, March 1, 2010
Follow me...
on over to baltimore.readinglocal.com. Reading Local is a collection of blogs about books, authors, and literary events in cities around the United States: Portland (where it started), Seattle, Chicago, Atlanta, and now Baltimore. Since our goals were the same--promoting local literary and book-related life--The Baltimore Bibliophile decided to join them. I will now be posting all new entries at Baltimore.readinglocal.com. Come on over!
Drumroll, please...
This year's pick for the One Maryland One Book program will be Outcasts United by Warren St. John. Read the press release from the Maryland Humanities Council here. September and October events to be announced.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Some Events February 26-March 4
Friday, February 26, 7pm: The 6th Annual People's Poetry Awards; Eubie Blake Center, 847 N. Howard Street; $5 before 8pm, $10 after
Sunday, February 28, 2pm: Jerald Walker, author of Street Shadows, talks about his newest book at the Central Library
Sunday, February 28, 7pm: Last Rites Baltimore, Baltimore Youth Hostel, 17 W. Mulberry Street
Monday, March 1, 3:30-5pm: Celebrate National Pig Day! Listen to a pig tale. Learn fun facts about pigs. Make a piggy bank to take home. At the Hamilton Branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library. The Baltimore Bibliophile tries to pick only the most creative or popular events to share. This definitely qualifies.
Tuesday, March 2, 6:30pm: Ted Venetoulis talks about Hail to the Cheat at the Central Library.
Sunday, February 28, 2pm: Jerald Walker, author of Street Shadows, talks about his newest book at the Central Library
Sunday, February 28, 7pm: Last Rites Baltimore, Baltimore Youth Hostel, 17 W. Mulberry Street
Monday, March 1, 3:30-5pm: Celebrate National Pig Day! Listen to a pig tale. Learn fun facts about pigs. Make a piggy bank to take home. At the Hamilton Branch of the Enoch Pratt Free Library. The Baltimore Bibliophile tries to pick only the most creative or popular events to share. This definitely qualifies.
Tuesday, March 2, 6:30pm: Ted Venetoulis talks about Hail to the Cheat at the Central Library.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Baltimore, the City with Potential
Jessica Crispin (founder of Bookslut) writes at The Smart Set about how well-known creative eras of great cities come about. Where does the spark come from that gives rise to creative communities in certain places, such as bohemian New York or Paris between the wars? Can this creativity be fostered or does it just happen? Tension, chaos, and coffee shops all seem to be part of the mix. Based on that, I say Baltimore has big potential.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Poe's Funerals
How can I have written a blog on books in Baltimore for a month and not yet mentioned Edgar Allen Poe? Read "Nevermoreland" by Abigail Deutsch at the Poetry Foundation website. Now I've done my Poe duty for the month.
Tonight at the Central Library
If you're looking for a good author at the last minute, tonight Christopher Corbett talks about his new book, The Poker Bride: The First Chinese in the Wild West, , 6:30pm at the Central Library.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Reaching the Reader at 510 Readings
Saturday I went to the 510 Readings for the first time. Four writers--two fiction, two memoirists--read their work at an art gallery above a funky vintage store. In spite of my long book publishing background, it was the first reading I’ve been to in quite some time.
I was in publishing in New York for 17 years. I loved just about every minute of it. I considered myself incredibly lucky to be in the field, and I did whatever I could just to stay in and advance. When it became apparent that I wasn't going to move up the ranks at a large literary trade house quickly enough for my liking, I embraced my love of editing in general and went to a non-publisher to edit their company's books. When I came back from a year or two abroad, I went to a reference imprint at a big house. My career could in no way be considered a boon to literature, which didn’t bother me in the least. After a few years at the large literary house reading one coming-of-age novel after another (that was the fashion at that moment), I thought "literature" was pretty much overrated. After working at a bookstore part-time during a few holiday seasons, I saw that my suspicions were correct. There was plenty to read out there, and no one else needed to add to the glut. I rarely went to readings and was in no way part of the literary scene. I was a very business-oriented editor, concerned with acquisitions and sales, and I liked it just fine.
Now that I'm at a career crossroads, though, I thought I'd attend a reading. Maybe I missed something on my first pass-through. The authors at yesterday’s reading were all quite good. Kevin Sampsell was funny; Jane Satterfield was perceptive and self-aware; and Meghan Kenny gave an unforgettable description of a tornado on the day of a tragic funeral. Ron Tanner's work, though, particularly spoke to me. He wrote about a woman passing through northern California on the way to visit her ailing father. I'm from San Francisco, but I'm not in love with the City (note caps, because to a San Franciscan, it's the only City) and northern California the way practically everybody else is. Nevertheless, I appreciate adoring descriptions of my homeland because I like to hear what everybody else sees in it. The woman in Tanner's novel-in-progress drives over the Donner Pass in winter on her way to the very small town of Exeter, in central California. Few people know enough about Exeter, where my college roommate grew up, to write about the unusually wide streets in such a small town. Ron Tanner does, and he also wrote wonderfully about coming over the Donner Pass in a snowstorm, where a century ago an exploring party cannibalized its dead members during winter. The woman coming over the pass is attracted to the guy putting chains on her tires while heading home to her family during a tragic period. I love the hope inherent in people being attracted to each other no matter how bad the timing. It’s so human. “Yes, we might end up eating each other for dinner, but meanwhile, you're hot.”
It's similar to the hope that keeps people going to readings or writing books. Most of what's written isn't going to be that interesting to most other people, but when an author and reader find each other, that's magical, whether the connection is through a reference book (I worked on books about coins and comic books that tens of thousands of people waited for eagerly every year). It's also wonderful when it's more personal, when a writer captures an aspect of my home so well I feel like I’m right there. My New York publishing career was fabulous, but I missed some of those more personal writer-reader connections along the way. I appreciate 510 Readings for giving me a chance to find more of them now.
I was in publishing in New York for 17 years. I loved just about every minute of it. I considered myself incredibly lucky to be in the field, and I did whatever I could just to stay in and advance. When it became apparent that I wasn't going to move up the ranks at a large literary trade house quickly enough for my liking, I embraced my love of editing in general and went to a non-publisher to edit their company's books. When I came back from a year or two abroad, I went to a reference imprint at a big house. My career could in no way be considered a boon to literature, which didn’t bother me in the least. After a few years at the large literary house reading one coming-of-age novel after another (that was the fashion at that moment), I thought "literature" was pretty much overrated. After working at a bookstore part-time during a few holiday seasons, I saw that my suspicions were correct. There was plenty to read out there, and no one else needed to add to the glut. I rarely went to readings and was in no way part of the literary scene. I was a very business-oriented editor, concerned with acquisitions and sales, and I liked it just fine.
Now that I'm at a career crossroads, though, I thought I'd attend a reading. Maybe I missed something on my first pass-through. The authors at yesterday’s reading were all quite good. Kevin Sampsell was funny; Jane Satterfield was perceptive and self-aware; and Meghan Kenny gave an unforgettable description of a tornado on the day of a tragic funeral. Ron Tanner's work, though, particularly spoke to me. He wrote about a woman passing through northern California on the way to visit her ailing father. I'm from San Francisco, but I'm not in love with the City (note caps, because to a San Franciscan, it's the only City) and northern California the way practically everybody else is. Nevertheless, I appreciate adoring descriptions of my homeland because I like to hear what everybody else sees in it. The woman in Tanner's novel-in-progress drives over the Donner Pass in winter on her way to the very small town of Exeter, in central California. Few people know enough about Exeter, where my college roommate grew up, to write about the unusually wide streets in such a small town. Ron Tanner does, and he also wrote wonderfully about coming over the Donner Pass in a snowstorm, where a century ago an exploring party cannibalized its dead members during winter. The woman coming over the pass is attracted to the guy putting chains on her tires while heading home to her family during a tragic period. I love the hope inherent in people being attracted to each other no matter how bad the timing. It’s so human. “Yes, we might end up eating each other for dinner, but meanwhile, you're hot.”
It's similar to the hope that keeps people going to readings or writing books. Most of what's written isn't going to be that interesting to most other people, but when an author and reader find each other, that's magical, whether the connection is through a reference book (I worked on books about coins and comic books that tens of thousands of people waited for eagerly every year). It's also wonderful when it's more personal, when a writer captures an aspect of my home so well I feel like I’m right there. My New York publishing career was fabulous, but I missed some of those more personal writer-reader connections along the way. I appreciate 510 Readings for giving me a chance to find more of them now.
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