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.

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.

Rebecca Skloot Swings through Baltimore

Rebecca Skloot, author of The Immortal Cells of Henrietta Lacks, discussed here, will be reading and speaking in Baltimore February 19-23. Here's her schedule; check the details before you head out:

Friday, February 19, 6pm: Johns Hopkins University Writing Seminars; Gilman Hall, Johns Hopkins University, Homewood Campus

Saturday, February 20, 1pm: Howard County Library, East Columbia Branch; registration required.

Monday, February 22, 6pm: Johns Hopkins Urban Health Institute

Tuesday, February 23, 1pm: Howard County Community College (no link or details that I could find; if you have them, please comment)

Tuesday, February 23, 6:30pm: The Ivy Bookshop, 6080 Falls Road, Baltimore, MD 21209; (410) 377-2966

Making Toast: Simple Gestures for Moving On, by Roger Rosenblatt

Life goes on. Writer Roger Rosenblatt's new book, Making Toast, is receiving wide acclaim for the sad yet forward-looking account of his daughter Amy's sudden death at age 38. She left three very young children, a hand surgeon husband, and a career as a pediatrician. Rosenblatt and his wife, Ginny, immediately moved to Bethesda to be with their son-in-law and grandchildren. Making Toast is an account of the year or so that followed and the expectation that more years will follow. NPR has a written and spoken review here. If the subject sounds familiar, it's because Rosenblatt wrote this for The New Yorker in December 2008.

Bethesda is closer to DC than Baltimore, but sometimes we need to expand our horizons. Which brings me to the question, how far afield should The Baltimore Bibliophile range? Annapolis, sure. Westminster, of course. Columbia, probably. But once we start to really get into the orbit of another city, it seems out of my sphere. I'm not going to review every Washingtonian's big book. Range is an issue I'll be considering, but for now, this one seemed right for a blog focused on Baltimore.

Spaghetti Disco, February 27

Get your tickets for the Spaghetti Disco, benefiting the Village Learning Place in Charles Village, here. Saturday, February 27, dinner 5:30-8, dance 8-11. Fun!

Lucille Clifton, Godspeed

Lucille Clifton, poet laureate of Maryland and National Book Award winner, passed on Saturday, February 13, of cancer and other causes.

From Good Woman:

in the inner city
or
like we call it
home
we think a lot about uptown
and the silent nights
and the houses straight as
dead men
and the pastel lights
and we hang on to our no place
happy to be alive
and in the inner city
or
like we call it
home

Hear her read "Homage to My Hips" here.

A brief biography from the Academy of American Poets here.

Baltimore Sun obituary here.

Purchase her books, including children's titles, here.

The Kindness of Baltimoreans

Read Street posted the final four contenders for the One Maryland, One Book statewide reading program.

The Baltimore Bibliophile was also at the meeting to winnow the final ten down to just a few, as a volunteer for the Maryland Humanities Council helping out with the One Book Program. The committee includes movers and shakers from libraries around the state, journalists, professors, university administrators, bookstore owners and managers, and others. Everybody I met was genuinely friendly, happy to meet me, and interested in what I'm doing here. No one at the OMOB meeting looked over my shoulder to find someone more important in the room. I didn't get any phony smiles. I wasn’t brushed off.

I'm astonished by the friendliness of Baltimoreans, and in this case, Marylanders in general, all the more so in the literary world, sad to say. My ability to read a situation is compromised because what do I make of a gathering where everyone is pleasant? How do I know who to like if everyone is nice? How do I discuss books and publishing without one-up-manship? My goodness, are we always actually going to listen to each other's opinions and suggestions so pleasantly? How refreshing!

People here are open and happy and interested and interesting and by far the very best part of moving to Baltimore.