Book Review: The Angel’s Game By Carlos Ruiz Zafon

I picked up The Angel’s Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon last week after a colleague recommended it, and settled in, somewhat skeptically, to give a new writer (by new, I mean one I had not read previously) a fair shot.  It had been described to me as a dark mystery by a writer who Stephen King recently raved about.  And as one of King’s Constant Readers, I trust his word more than I’d trust that of any clergyman.

I was not disappointed.

Zafon brought me down the familiar road of writers writing about writing, and into early 1900’s Barcelona and the life of David Martin.  Martin is a young boy working at a local paper, The Voice of Industry.  His early writing career is bestowed upon him by a young, charismatic benefactor who has a soft spot for the budding storyteller.

Later in his career, Martin enjoys enormous success writing trashy horror stories for an even trashier publication, run by sleazy publishers.  Writing under a pseudonym, Martin begins to dream about writing under his own name, and thus enjoying his success in his own right, a dream that his already successful (although a horrible writer) benefactor shares.  Thus begins Martin’s descent into darkness as a mysterious French publisher makes him an offer worth his soul.

On the surface, this is a typical story based on the competing notions of good and evil, light and dark, God and The Devil.  Zafon constructs the story in such a way that, beyond the title, there is little mention of God, and yet, one feels that there is an omnipotent force pulling the strings in the lives of David and those who are acquainted with him.  Yet, it is much more than that.  It steps further, leaving the reader questioning who is “good” and who is “evil”, and if in fact, they aren’t one and the same.

Underneath, if you look closely through the eyes of a young, struggling writer, you see a play on the insecurities of a writer who can gain thousands of readers under a ghost name (more than one, in fact), and yet cannot sell a single copy under his own.  It plays directly into the notion of literary publication being tantamount to immortality, shows exactly how desperate a writer can get, and delves into both the magic and consequence of a writer’s craft.  Much the same way that King attributes a power of their own to his characters, Zafon brings Martin, and what he writes to life.

When I closed the cover and replaced the sleeve I was left with two resounding thoughts; 1) Would I sell my soul to be published? and 2) I must visit Barcelona, and remember to bring a pen.

Enough with this Eat, Pray, Love Crap

Does anyone else cringe when they hear the term “chick lit”?  I always thought it was a term that was thrown around in book reviews to define material written by and for women, but behold, “chick lit” is an entire genre, like horror, that agents and publishers recognize. And, it just won’t go away.  Take Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert for example. Despite the book being published in 2006, it seems to still be lurking in the media, and setting the standard by which all women writers are being compared.

Now, I can’t say I have read the book anymore than I can say I read Confessions of a Shopaholic, beyond of course what Amazon was kind enough to provide me as a preview, and the few minutes I spent leafing through the pages in a book store before moving on to The God Delusion.  Needless to say, a woman’s memoirs about finding herself that starts with the line “I wish Giovanni would kiss me” is unlikely to captivate me the same way that Orwell captured me with his construction of a futuristic society in which the bourgeoisie worship an organization called The Party.

This brings me to another point.  When reading an article about gendered choices in literature, I was shocked to learn that men are actually impressed by women who read Orwell and the like. You know, because wrapping our vaginas brains around a complex political movement marked by submission and rebellion, is like, totally out of our reach…unless someone is going to bring up chocolate.  Which Orwell does, so I guess that’s why I read it.  Not because it is an iconic piece of literature and remarkably timeless in its representation of political fundamentalism (oh, shit I forgot, I am supposed to be talking about shoes).

So this brings me back to chick lit and Elizabeth Gilbert’s quest to get over her failed marriage, and her sense of being lost in life.  Here is my official position; if your life and your travels were that interesting, they wouldn’t be marketed as the bible of chick lit, they would be marketed as a memoir of an interesting life.  Show of hands, how many men have read Eat, Pray, Love?

*insert sound of crickets chirping*

So why is it that the industry finds this type of writing so appealing?  Obviously there is a market for it, or else agents and editors would be tearing the Gilberts of the world down to their heels and hashing it all out on #queryfail.  I can see it now “OMG, another query about her divorce and how she got over it, shut up already! #queryfail”.  Or maybe that is just wishful thinking on my part.

Of course it is no secret that many a woman have written under a nom de plume, or pseudonym (ahem, J.K. Rowling) to draw attention away from the fact that they are women and gain respect in the literary world before anyone looks up their skirts and realizes that they have an inkwell instead of a pen hidden up there.  Unless, of course, they are writing about “women stuff” like pining over 20 something Italian guys as a means to finding oneself.  Then girly names like Elizabeth can be plastered all over the cover like a rogue noodle that broke free from the covers font.

Now, before anyone jumps on me and says women publish literature other than chick lit, just look at Stephanie Meyer and Twilight, I ask you to pause for a moment.  ‘Cause there’s nothing darker than vegetarian vampires that blow sparkles out of their asses.  Stephen King look out, you have some competition (*snorts*).

Words are words, and the last time I checked the area between my belly button and my knees had very little to do with my choices of reading material or writing topics (excluding feminist literature of course, which is much different than wanting Giovanni to kiss you).  Women frequently write from the perspectives of men, and vice versa, with astonishing insight.  This begs the question; do we really need an entire genre of “Oh my god, I found myself in Jimmy Choo?” or are we creating it by filing it under the vagina niche and calling it a day.  You know, so men won’t have to make the mistake of picking up a book written by a woman for a woman while perusing the aisles of their local book store…because there is an entire section segregated off where women can confide in each other about yoga, having babies, being married, getting divorced, and shopping; all of the important life lessons a girl must learn.

This is my call to women writers; stop publishing this Eat, Pray, Love crap, and find a voice based on your writing talents, not on the chance that you got an X instead of a Y in your chromosome make up.

Update: Apparently my writing is worth plagiarizing without credit.  Check it out here, and feel free to let them know how us bloggers love link backs.

Why Lost is the Best Television Ever

When the first episode of Lost aired, and we met John Locke, I phoned my mother and told her that I was already on to something.  The name, John Locke, was significant because in the year before, I had taken a course on political philosophy and had read John Locke.  And, for the next couple of seasons I was left wondering if that was a coincidence or not (I highly suspected not).  Then we meet Jeremy Bentham, and my suspicions were confirmed; John Locke’s character is based on early policitical philosophers who discussed such issues as the social contract and utilitarianism (the greatest good for the greatest number and so forth…).  It made perfect sense.

This little revelation is only the beginning.  Literature is regularly mentioned throughout the show; from Stephen Hawking to Stephen King, from Of Mice and Men to Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.  I can’t help but wonder if the Lost book club could provide us with additional insight into the story line (which for those of you who think it’s a bunch of 20-somethings smoking pot, has been established since the beginning). Add to this, the revelation that J.J. Abrams has bought the film rights to King’s The Dark Tower (for nineteen dollars, no less), and the obvious influence those books have had on the show itself (see time travel, paradox, reluctant leaders).

I don’t watch much T.V.  In fact, I purposefully avoid it, selecting my viewing pleasures carefully and patronizing the Internet for access, but Lost had me from hello.  Some may complain that the story line itself is lost, but I would argue that this is one of the most intelligent shows in our history, and draws heavily on classic literature, theory, and science to bring us 44 minutes of entertainment.  If you can’t follow it, perhaps you need to hit the books.

Weekend Reading: Writer’s Block and My Overflowing Bookshelf

Writer’s Block.  That terrible, ever-lurking antithesis to “the flow” of which writers speak is a very real thing.  To someone who does not write extensively, it may seem easy to cast the notion off as silly, and inextricably linked to ego, but in reality, it can interupt a writer’s work and frustrate the bejesus out of them.  Flow, on the other hand, is that glorious pace a writer can find where the words seem to come from the fingers (or pen) first and the mind later.  It’s a constant race to keep up with yourself before the next moment flutters out of your mind like a butterfly and is lost forever.  This can last four hours before the writer is broken from the trance and brought back to the reality of dinner that must be made, day jobs that must be worked, and bills that must be paid.

I don’t know what other writer’s do when they experience Writer’s Block.  I’ve found sites for writing prompts and ideas, but ultimately a prompt that says “write about a red ball” is unlikely to shake me out of reality, and back into that dream world that writers create for themselves.  Someone once told me to keep my head above the clouds.  My immediate reaction was that it was mis-phrased; it should have read keep your head out of the clouds.  I didn’t understand properly then what was meant by that, but I do now.  Above the clouds is where creativity flows, and sometimes it is impossible not to come down, into the clouds,  and subsequently back into reality where there is traffic, phones ringing, appointments, and all of the mundane practices that make up this thing we call life.

When I have Writer’s Block, I read.  I’m always reading something, and in fact, I can hardly remember a period of time where I wasn’t completely absorbed in one book or another.  For the year I wrote literally nothing, I was completely wrapped up in Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series, a seven book monolith that makes The Stand look like a Sunday paper.

This may explain the current state of my bookshelf.  I’ve rationalized my Writer’s Block down to a few things, including the fact that I have my first short story making its rounds in literary magazines and contests, and somewhere deep inside me I am waiting for judgement/affirmation.  The second cause is related to research.  My book-in-progress is deeply rooted in religion, mythology,  psychology, and to some extent, sociology.  At 20,000 words I simply hit a point where the idea was no longer enough, I needed background knowledge to keep the train chugging along.

So, for a little change, I am offering my weekend reading list.

1984 by George Orwell

Until now, I hadn’t read this book.  Not only did I know that I must read it because it is a classic, but the subject matter interests me greatly.  I can hardly put it down and it has been dominating my reading for the last week. I plan to finish the last 30 or so pages today.  While reading it I have to constantly remind myself that it was written in 1949, and renew my admiration for Orwell’s construction of a future society.  As a sociologist at heart, this book is fascinating.

The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold

I found Sebold during a seminar course on Ethnography in my undergraduate degree.  Our professor assigned Lucky, a biographical account of her rape while attending college.  The Lovely Bones was her next book, which also took me in.  I expect The Almost Moon to live up to my expectations of Sebold’s ability to capture me.

2009 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market

Otherwise known as the bible.  I am going through this volume painstakingly, absorbing all of the information about the publishing industry I can cram into my 26 year old brain.  What are agents, publishers, and editors telling me?  How can I use it in the future?  I know that I can break down countless boundaries if I am prepared, and I intend to be.

The Lilith Monographs Vol. I: Immaculata by Joshua Seraphim

This is directly related to my book, in which the main character is Lilith, or rather my version of her.

Lilith: The First Eve by Siegmund Hurwitz

See above.

Glimmer Train Spring 2009 Issue 70

Glimmer Train is the first literary magazine I have subscribed to.  The first issue arrived in my mailbox on Friday and since then it has been waiting patiently underneath 1984, waiting to be picked up next.  I’m reading it partly to learn what other writer’s are selling, to compare as objectively as I can, the quality of the work therein versus my own, and to absorb great literature from the future authors of classics that will come about in my life time.  As my writing income grows, so too will my collection of literary magazines.  For those who do not subscribe, I highly recommend it.

The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama

This is a slow read for me.  I can only keep my attention focused on congressional history and legislative process for so long.  I also feel this is a necessary read.  Obama is an eloquent and moving writer, and knowing full well that he will become known as one of the great thinkers of our time, I am compelled to read through the political jargon to hear the message behind it.

Defending the Damned by Kevin Davis

This was recommended to me by a friend who works in the legal system in the United Kingdom.  It focuses on a public defender in Chicago, named Marijane Placek, a “snakeskin boot-wearing, Shakespeare quoting nonconformist.”  Needless to say, she knows my taste.

What’s on yours?

Writers Love Films About Writers

Some may argue that writing is an indulgent enterprise at the least, and a narcissistic one at the most, so it should come as no surprise that writers (myself included) love films about writers.  No, it’s not that writer’s block is all that interesting to watch on the silver screen (unless you are Hunter S. Thompson), rather, it’s like looking into a mirror that is facing another mirror.  Films about writers offer a double shot of creativity; that which is offered by the writer them self, and that which is offered by the (presumably) fictional writer.  Some have gone further still, at least in literature.  Stephen King, of whom I am so fond, wrote himself into his epic Dark Tower series, as a character interacting with the story’s leading man, Roland, and his cohorts.  You have to have a brass set, and the credentials to back them up to go that far.

So, that being said, here are my top ten favorite films about writers.

10 ) In the Mouth of Madness (1994).  When famous horror writer, Sutter Cane goes missing, it is up to insurance investigator, John Trent, to locate him on behalf of his publisher.  Trent soon discovers that Cane’s writing is more powerful than he could have imagined, and is caught up in a plot that goes from marketing strategy to supernatural rather quickly.  Writer has boogey man issues, writer tackles issues through writing, writer makes boogey man come alive with writing.

9 ) Misery (1990).  Stephen King has a knack for writing books that translate easily to the screen.  Of course, King fans like myself are waiting with bated breath to see the results of The Dark Tower series on which King has collaborated with J.J. Abrams of Lost and Cloverfield (2008).  Anyway, Misery is the story of a writer, Paul, who is struggling to complete his latest book.  On his way to a winter hideaway, he has a little accident and is rescued by Annie, his “number one fan”.  Of course, no good can come of a neurotic fan who lives in seclusion and is especially apt with an axe, now can there?

8 ) Almost Famous (2000). Guilty pleasure alert! What writer wouldn’t want to waste an hour or two watching the adventures of a teenage boy, William, who is hired as a freelance journalist for Rolling Stone?  Add famous 1970’s rock band, (in)famous female groupies of the blonde variety, and narcotics, and you’ve got yourself a rockin’ movie.

7 ) Barfly (1987).  I have to admit, I only came by this one recently.  You’ll have to excuse the delay, considering I was five when this movie was released.  But, I am climbing on the Mickey Rourke Comeback Train just like everybody else.  Henry doesn’t realize he’s a “writer” per se.  In fact, he doesn’t realize much, what with his raging alcoholism.  He gets drunk, and the delicate genius is revealed.  The best part was this; I know an artist or two who might very well have studied this film and then actually emulated Henry.  I am down with the whole troubled artist thing, but…yeah.

6  ) Where the Buffalo Roam (1980).  Oh, Hunter, what would we do without you?  Gonzo journalism and Hunter S. Thompson at their finest.  Football games, hustlers, militia and politics, all done in his signature style, as portrayed by Bill Murray.  Of course, Johnny Depp has also played the infamous Hunter S. Thompson, but everybody and their dog has heard of Fear and Loathing, so I play the underdog.

5 ) Capote (2005).  Another epic film about a “real-life” writer.  Truman Capote is arguably the father of the true crime genre, with the chilling book In Cold Blood being his child. Phillip Seymour Hoffman plays Capote with all of the nuances and neurosis I would have expected, and conveys Capote’s interesting tale well.  Two thumbs up and an Oscar to boot.

4 ) Secret Window (2004).  This Stephen King page-to-screen adaptation is focused on newly-divorced writer, Mort Rainey, as he encounters a strange man who accuses him of plagiarism.  Of course, story stealing is only the beginning of the bad behavior Mort has been up to.

3 ) The Hours (2002).  A chick flick for ladies with brains if there ever was one.  This riveting movie follows three female lead characters as they engage with Virigina Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, including Woolf herself as she writes it.  You’ll either be bored, or enthralled, but either way you’ll be in tears.

2 ) Stranger Than Fiction (2006). Harold Crick is your average, boring, middle-aged tax man, until he starts hearing a voice narrating his life.  Of course, in another striking example of writer writes, writer makes exist, the narrator is in fact a struggling novelist suffering from a case of writer’s block that can only be cured by killing off the story’s character, Harold. With this film, Will Ferrell proved that he can actually act, instead of just act funny. Plus, I am an absolute sucker for a dark comedy.

1 ) The Basketball Diaries (1995).  I have watched this film so many times, I can recite the script.  Leonardo DiCaprio portrays Jim Carroll, a kid growing up in New York, and scribbling in a composition book in between shooting hoops and shooting up.  Before James Frey there was Jim Carroll.

Book Review: Duma Key by Stephen King

I must admit up front that it is tremendously difficult for me to NOT like Stephen King’s writing. From the time I read Gerald’s Game at the age of thirteen (I highly doubt that 13 year olds were the target market for that particular book…), I was hooked.  Since then I could be considered what Mr. King refers to often as Constant Reader.

Duma Key is the story of Edgar Freemantle, a millionaire who loses his arm in a construction accident, and eventually moves to the Florida coast while he tries to rebuild his life.  During the course of his new self discovery, Edgar learns that he can paint.  However, those of you who know King know that there must be something supernatural behind his new found talent.

This is a good place to note that I read Duma Key directly off the heels of The Stand.  I’d always had The Stand on my bookshelf, but hadn’t gotten around to reading the 1000+ page behemoth.  Those of you familiar with the book know that a, if not the central protagonist is Abigail Freemantle, or Mother Abigail as she is more frequently referred to.  Coincidence?  The Dark Tower fans might not think so.

Back to Duma Key.  The first half of the book draws you in, as you witness Edgar advance from his hospital bed to a small art gallery where he is quickly becoming a local celebrity.  King describes the painting richly, and could convince the reader that he is a painter himself.

Edgar’s experience painting while living in “Big Pink”, an old beach house owned by Elizabeth Eastlake, the local eccentric and rich lady, inevitably evolves into something more sinister.  Without offering any spoilers, I say that when King discovered this aspect of the story, he could have gone in a completely different direction than the one Duma Key taken in the second half of the book .

That being said, the direction he does take is true Stephen King form; a mixture of personal and supernatural failures and triumphs, rooted as firmly in the human condition as it is in tales of ghosts and other menacing creatures.   There is, however, a moment in the book where you will find yourself scratching your head and saying “Where the hell is he going with this?”  If you can get through that part, you will be satisfied with the result, especially if you are fond of rainbow colored frogs with “teef”.