Girl in a Cage

Life-Changing Followup

Well, as my five minutes of internet fame draw to a close, I have to say I'm a little disappointed that Karen Kingsbury has not weighed in on the trademark controversy after the flames were fanned here. (Thanks, by the way, to Gawker for driving hundreds upon hundreds of readers here. Stick around for a while, folks! Read some snarky pop culture commentary! Buy a book or six!)

Really, this seems like a win-win. If you look at how the Gawker commenters are lambasting Ms. Kingsbury, they're giving her a perfect opportunity to claim victimization by a bunch of...New Yorkers. That ought to drive up her sales! Look, she's such an effective messenger of one rather narrow interpretation of Christianity that the forces of evil (I don't really have to spell out all the different flavors of evil represented by New York City, do I?) are rallying against her! Buy a book or six and show your support!

But I suppose she would only do that if she were a cynical self-promoter like myself.

In any case, I've enjoyed the little tempest in a teapot, and it's led me to think about what fiction has changed my life.

Tales of a Fourth-Grade Nothing, by Judy Blume. I suppose there were others, but this was the first book I remember reading where I felt like the narrator was someone I could really identify with. He doesn't go on a life-changing quest or anything; he just has a really annoying little brother. (I didn't have a little brother of any kind, but for some reason, the narrative voice felt really familiar to me at the time.)

Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger. Not sure if this one changed my life in a good way. When you give a narcissistic, sullen teen a book that validates his narcissism and sullenness, well, what results, at least in my case, is a sullenness spiral that proves hard to pull out of. "Girls don't like me because I'm not a goddamn phony," you tell yourself, when you really should be telling yourself, "Girls don't like me because I'm a sarcastic little shit who pays no attention to how he looks!" Or maybe that's just me.

How To Save Your Own Life, by Erica Jong. Okay, okay, I only read the dirty parts when I was a kid. But still--said dirty parts had a pretty profound effect on me. See also Judy Blume's Wifey and Attachments by Judith Rossner.

The Prince of Central Park, by Evan Rhodes. I have no idea why, but I read this book like three times the summer when I was 8 years old. Not sure exactly what it spoke to in me, since it was a library book and I haven't read it since, and only saw the kind of crappy movie version with Kathleen Turner, Danny Aiello, and Harvey Keitel as a merry elf of a homeless guy.

The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, by C.S. Lewis. I re-read this as an adult and was sort of mystified as to why this captivated me so much, but I absolutely adored this book as a lad. It was kinda ruined for me when somebody told me it was a Christian allegory. And then had to explain what allegory was.

In 7th and 8th grade, I read pretty much every book Stephen King and Peter Straub had written up to that point. I suppose what I got from this was an expectation that fiction should be so involving that you can't put it down (and how often have I been disappointed by that expectation ever since) as well as reinforcement of what I already knew from real life: life is unfair, occasionally brutal, and horrifying as well as thrilling and fun.

Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkein. Read as an adult and hated Tom Bombadil and all the singing, but the idea of short people being caught up in something beyond their control, and the heroism of going down fighting in a hopeless situation really resonated with me as I went through some horrible times. The part about the power of mercy, vis-a-vis Gollum, is still, for me, a really powerful parable.

Time Out of Joint, by Philip K. Dick--I suppose it's one of his lesser novels, but it still blew my mind. One of Dick's major preoccupations is the subjective nature of reality, and in most cases, these deep philosophical things are wrapped up in page-turning science fiction plots.

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby--there's a section where the narrator describes the clientele of the used record store that I really remember as the a-ha moment when I realized that writers weren't necessarily different kinds of people from me.

That's all I got for now. But there are probably more. What about you? Got any Fiction That Has Altered Your Life But Not Necessarily Brought You To Jesus?

Believe The Hype

There are few pleasures greater than that of being a naysayer. It's just a delight to be able to point to that new thing that everybody thinks is so great and say how it's really not that great.

Today, the Clover denied me this pleasure. The Clover is the celebrated one-cup-at-a-time coffee maker that costs eleven thousand dollars and is supposed to, through some kind of mechanical magic, extract all kinds of funky flavors from the bean and give you a coffee experience unlike any you've ever had before.

Right.

But, I figure, anything that promised better coffee is worth a try.

Now, they have this machine at a coffee shop just a mile from my house, but I'm never up there in the morning. But I read on the internets that they are test-marketing this machine at a Starbucks just a block and a half from my office downtown, so I went over there today to try it.

Visually, the experience is kind of underwhelming. First of all, I just feel that any machine that costs about the same as a used minivan should be a little closer to the size of a minivan than an 8-slice toaster.

Here's a video of the Clover in action.

As you can see, it's not really very exciting to watch, except for the end, and I only like that because it allows me to say "squeegee", which is one of my favorite words.

But the coffee. Dear God, I didn't know the divine bean held such varieties of flavor! Seriously, this machine is everything it's cracked up to be. Believe the hype. If you are a coffee lover, go find one of these as soon as possible and enjoy a dare I say it, life-changing coffee experience.

I mean, I can tell a good cup of coffee from a bad cup of coffee, and I can tell a light roast from a dark roast, but all that stuff about the flavor notes they put on the different varieties--well, let's just say I never got it. Until today! Today I had a cup of coffee that was recognizably a cup of coffee, but that kept offering up flavor notes and nuances that I've never had in a cup of coffee before.

Thus do I conclude that the Clover is everything it is cracked up to be. Will it save Starbucks? I have no idea--I kind of think fair trade would save Starbucks, and that their current financial woes can be traced at least in part to their refusal to fully embrace fair trade coffee, but that's probably a different post. All I know is I had an amazing cup of coffee today.

Score One For The Forces of Darknesss

My thanks to the talented New York Times Bestselling Author Lauren Groff, who has thrown caution to the wind and is, willy-nilly, using the phrase "life-changing fiction" with no thought to the legal and/or theological consequences.

God Satan bless her!

(BTW, her novel The Monsters of Templeton rocks, and you should totally read it if you haven't already.)

We Regret The Error

I recently received an email from a certain New York Times Bestselling Author who referred to herself as New York Times Bestselling Author and informed me that I had used a trademarked phrase in a blog entry of July 23 entitled "September 2." Apparently the phrase "Life-Changing Fiction" can only be applied to the work of a certain inspirational Christian authoress and not my work or anyone else's work. So if you feel that a novel by anyone who is not a certain Christian Authoress has in any way altered your existence, please remember that there is only one person on earth whose fiction can be referred to in that fashion. Please call fiction that has altered your existence in some way "Fiction Which Has Altered My Existence But Is In No Way To Be Confused With The Work of a Certain Christian Inspirational Authoress, May Her Name Be Praised."

I deeply regret having used the verboten phrase, especially because this entire thing arose from a typo. I meant to refer to my work as "Wife-Changing Fiction"--fiction that, if you read it, will transform your female spouse.

Also, as we all know, my fiction is decidedly Satanic in content, and should not be confused with Christian fiction of any kind.

Again, we regret the error and appreciate the opportunity to clear the air. Hail Satan!

Representin' YA

Well, I've been reading the New York Times a lot more lately because I really dig the app they made for the iphone. (I know, I know, again I ignore the sage advice of KRS-One ("Material Love") and declare my love for an object. But it's just really really cool.)

So a couple of things have caught my eye recently. For this entry, I'm going to focus on this this, an essay about how it's really not all that bad to be a YA author after all. I have one YA novel out and three more in the pipeline, so I'm all over being a YA author, so you'd think I'd really like this essay, but I found it strangely annoying. I guess because the point of view of the article is kind of like, well, there are consolations to being a YA author, even if you don't get to sit at the big kids' table with all the Iowa Writers Workshop people.

I guess my perspective is different because I've never had any desire to sit at the big kids' table. I want to sit next to my Scrooge McDuck style swimming pool full of money, but failing that, I just want to write books that people want to read. And when you write a YA book, you have an opportunity to touch someone when they are at an incredibly important point in their development; and even if your book meets the fate of the songs described in the Smiths' Rubber Ring (not linking to lyrics because all the ones I could find say "oh oh smother me mother" when it's clearly "oh don't smother me mother." Geez, it doesn't make any sense otherwise!), you've still written something that's touched someone at an incredibly important time in their life. You can do this with adult fiction too, but it's rare.

There are additional benefits to being a YA author, namely that the business model is different--in short, less money up front but more patience with building authors and less reliance on breakout bestsellers to carry the list, and you get to feel cool because incredibly annoying people are looking down on you.

September 2

September 2, 2008.

My new YA novel, Forever Changes, arrives. That's cool enough on its own, but in what I can only see as a good omen, the rebooted 90210 launches on the very same day! Me, Shannen, Tori, and Joe E. Tata together again! Well, I mean, okay, I'm not actually in the show or anything, but I'll be together with my old TV pals again, and all I can think is that my book for teens (and adults who think they can handle it) and the new/old show for teens launching on the same day indicates a fortuitous alignment of the planets, a sure sign that the universe is smiling upon my artistic endeavor.

So my advice is, on September 2nd, head out to the bookstore to claim your copy of Forever Changes, get some takeout from The Peach Pit, and settle in for a night of heartrending, life-changing fiction and deliciously trashy TV. (I'm hoping that Tori Spelling's character will be nursing an infant, so I can chant "Donna Martin lactates! Donna Martin lactates!")

The First One's Good

Got my first review for my upcoming YA novel Forever Changes (aka, the Best Book I've Ever Written). It's from Kirkus Reviews, and it's pretty positive. Here's the nice pull quote: "An excellent next read for teens who enjoyed Jenny Downham’s Before I Die (2007)." And everybody else, for that matter.

Dark Knight

So on Friday, me and the boyz (Carl, Andrew, David, Kyle, and Casey) decided at the last minute to go see The Dark Knight.

But we were in the wilds of Pennsylvania! How could we find a theater? Trusty Iphone to the rescue!

Off we went to this place, which was really cool--they've got Ye Olde Malte Shoppe in the front, like we're in Archie Comics or Happy Days or something, you can't buy tickets online, you have to walk up to the little window and pay cash only, and tickets were only 6 bucks! Bargain!

The movie was awesome. Yeah, Heath Ledger was good, but what I love is that Christopher Nolan really understands the darkness of the comics that have always made them my favorites. (Well, I did go through a Weird War kick for a while, but otherwise I've always been a Batman man. Man.) This movie is dark and strange and spectacular but ultimately grim, because fighting crime in Gotham City is grim. Heath Ledger will get all the attention because his role is the showiest and he's dead, but to my way of thinking, Gary Oldman and Michael Caine are the glue that holds these movies together. And I love to see the delicious Maggie Gyllenhaal in just about anything, though, to be honest, she's not given much to do here. (Okay, even Maggie Gyllenhaal couldn't get me to see Mona Lisa Smile, but otherwise, I like her work. Especially Secretary, if you know what I mean.) Batman himself is a pretty thankless role, so give Christian Bale credit for communicating the necessary level of grim determination.

Got home from vacation and was outraged by the New Yorker. It was the one with the Obama cover, but I did get the cover and did not find it offensive. No, what was offensive was assigning David Denby to review The Dark Knight, which of course he hated because, at least as I can figure it, a)it is a summer movie in which stuff blows up b)it is a summer movie that has the temerity to try to be serious and c)Tim Burton didn't direct it. I'm beginning to suspect that David Denby takes out all his rage at being known to most people as "Darn, No Anthony Lane This Week" on the movies he reviews. (Except Hancock, which he inexplicably loved, because apparently Will Smith and Charlize Theron are the new Tracy and Hepburn.) As Homer said to Marge, "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong all the time?"

Black Metal Update

Oh yeah, one more thing--here's what's gonna keep me from becoming a black metal fan like the character I created: it's just, as a genre, way too Christian for me.

I mean, you know, if that's your bag, that's cool--it's just not that interesting to me. It may at first glance seem odd to call these ostensibly Satanic bands Christian, but they're like that guy who insists he's over his ex and then can't talk about anything else. If you're really that dedicated to pissing off Christians, it means you've got Christianity deep in your bones in a way that I just don't. So listening to this music is entertaining in the way that watching an argument you've got no stake in is entertaining: fun for a while, but if you don't have a dog in the fight*, it gets boring pretty quickly.

*figure of speech. If you promote or spectate at actual dogfights, you suck.

Black. Like my metal.

I've created a character who's into black metal, so I fired up a Dimmu Borgir station on pandora so as to do some research. It is awful and horrifying how much I like it. I mean, I still don't like the cookie monster vocals, but the waves of synths over the guitars sound cool as hell. Also it's killer workout music. I suppose the lyrics are pretty grim, but you can't understand them anyway.
I hated most of the metal bands I saw at Ozzfest last summer, but maybe I was hasty to condemn. Or maybe it's just better when you can turn it off after five songs and switch to some nice, palate-cleansing Swedish power pop. (right now I favor the Caesars in that department.)