We are headed north for the day. The husband has made CDs for the trip (Camper van Beethoven, Robyn Hitchcock, Luna, and Elvis…apparently he wants us to sing while we drive). He’s also made a rather intriguing DVD gift for the sister — it’s entitled “Music”. We can only guess what that means. We hope you all have a wonderful holiday and manage to delegate dishwashing to others. One of the things we are especially thankful for this year if the fact that so many of you read the blog (and keep coming back). And those who play in the […]

Apparently, it’s okay to publish breathless exposes celebrity cellulite (which we would sincerely appreciate not having to see, thank you), but not okay to write about what it’s like to work in a fictionalized place that may or may not be Star magazine. Oh sure, there’s something about a confidentiality agreement, but that seems awfully inconvenient when one is merely attempting to write what they know. Yes, yes, it’s the little moments of hypocrisy in life that keep us amused. Memo Pad: Stop the Presses … The Vagina Dialogues … Hands Off Our Stuff

We encountered Larry Brown via a particularly enthusiastic writing teacher, and are saddened to learn of his death. In the manner of Flannery O’Connor, Brown explored ordinary people in his world, uncovering the unexpected way they lived what the casual observer would call a normal life. Brown’s humor and direct voice made his characters come alive on the page, and made us want to keep reading even when we were finished. November 24, 2004 AUTHOR LARRY BROWN DIES AT AGE 53 Larry Brown, author of JOE and eight other classics of southern literature, died of a heart attack at his

Yes, that headline is indeed the reason why we abandoned poetry in the 12th grade. However, in this case, it is half true. Last year on Thanksgiving, we hosted dinner in our backyard. This year, we wouldn’t be so cruel. The snow level in Southern California is at (what is surely) an all-time low. It is the kind of event that confuses the locals. Surely it’s too early in the year for weather? We believe we should be hibernating. But no, we remain resolute. We will finish this darn NaNo thing if it kills the rest of you. This is

Our readers are quite familiar with our dismay about the ratio of men to women being reviewed by (and reviewing for) the The New York Times. The numbers, quite simply, do not make sense, given our general understanding of the overall number of one gender versus the other. Thus, the demise of the Women’s Review of Books is especially difficult. While it certainly made up for the NYT lack, it simply did’t have the fiscal base necessary to survive. Perhaps this could have changed, but very likely not. Another journal will emerge in another way, of that we’re sure. On

It was inevitable that someone would invent a program that, for better or worse (and we like to err on the side of worse), writes fiction. Oh, not that plotting software you purchase to waste more time…actual software that generates prose. It completely changes the relationship between writer and computer. Occasionally you hear of a Luddite novelist who shuns computers, but the truth is that most of us would be lost without them. If I rail and curse at mine, it is partly out of resentment at our miserable co-dependence. Imagine, then, the blow to my scribbler’s vanity when I