Writing Life

I’ve spent the past week conked out in bed and sprawled across the couch with The Mother of All Head Colds. Flus. Flues. Influenzas. Even though I know better now, I can’t quite shake my childhood belief that if you have a runny nose/sore throat/cough, you have a cold and if you’re barfing, you have the flu. Whatever. I was sick. Unfortunately, I was so sick I didn’t get as much reading done as one might expect considering I was horizontal for 23.5 hours out of every 24.

But I did read this:

Writing Life: Celebrated Canadian and International Authors on Writing and Life. From the back cover: “Provocative, candid, often very funny, personal, and passionately engaged, this inspired collection will take readers deep into the heart of the writing life.”

I love anthologies for the exposure to new voices and always come away with a list of authors to seek out. Seek out their work, I mean, not the authors themselves. Ugh, it’s nice to realize my brain fog hasn’t lifted much. Anyway, this anthology is no different: my love for Lisa Moore and Lynn Coady was re-affirmed and my hopelessly long reading list now includes Eden Robinson, Shyam Selvadurai, Susan Swan and Michael Winter. Of course, anthologies are also helpful in pointing out authors to avoid; if they can annoy, bore or ostracize me within ten short pages or so, I don’t need to suffer through a whole book, thanks.

The other great thing about this particular collection is the topic: writing.  Ooooh. I love a good book about writing. I love hearing about the experiences of published authors, love collecting tidbits of information here and there as if it will somehow help me. I’m a kid again, sitting on the stairs eavesdropping on my older sister and her friends and being impatient to be a teenager too since they obviously had everything cool and exciting and all I had was stupid used roller skates with ugly silver stars on the sides and an eight o’clock bedtime.

I am a voyeur when it comes to writers and want to know it all – the writing schedules, the struggles with confidence, the thrill of success, the reality of making ends meet, the challenge of raising children, the attitudes toward readers and critics. This collection didn’t have a lot of that nitty gritty detail, but I still enjoyed it. Most of it. But that’s the pleasure of a collection, right? It’s like a box of chocolates. Eat the ones you like and pass the rest off on your co-workers.

on having diverse tastes in literature

My reading list has been somewhat eclectic lately, reflecting my scattered frame of mind. My nightly flossing routine provides a valuable five minutes of reading time, which I spend on magazines: Inc. to learn how to build Wingspan into a corporate giant, Shambhala Sun to try to discover some inner peace and Rug Hooking to fantasize about a day when I’ll have to time to be creative again.

Then, in those few, drowsy minutes before lapsing into unconsciousness, I read a book like this one:

This Book is Overdue! by Marilyn Johnson. I found this book about the constantly evolving face of libraries and librarians interesting, even though it’s very different from my own experience as a lowly little part-timer working for a predominantly rural network of libraries. Johnson explores the multitude of ways in which librarians use technology to do what librarians do best – connect people with the information they need – and introduces the reader to blogging librarians, online librarians, Second Life librarians, anarchist librarians, reference librarians and lots of good ol’ public librarians who are seriously intent on keeping their libraries vibrant and vital to the communities they serve. Definitely worth a read for anyone interested in libraries and/or information technology.

Then I swing to the opposite pole and read a book like this:

Sh*t My Dad Says by Justin Halpern. Because I’m always ridiculously late to anything hip or hot, I just discovered this book when it came in as a hold for a co-worker. The book is an offshoot of Halpern’s Twitter account of the same name, which, as you might have deduced, is about funny things sh*t Halpern’s dad says. And his dad can be funny. Really funny, sometimes. But since a book of one-liners would be tedious, I suppose, Halpern has written a short autobiography (he’s only 27) around his father’s quotes and it’s…okay. It isn’t terrible or deadly boring or anything like that, it’s just…okay. He seems like a nice enough guy, just one who, aside from the astounding popularity of his Twitter account, hasn’t done much that makes gripping reading. Public school. Moving out to attend university. Moving back home as an adult. Crummy jobs. Breaking up with girlfriends.

I also need to say that Halpern Sr’s profanity and scathing criticisms didn’t seem as funny to me when he was barking them at Halpern as a child. At times, it seemed downright abusive. He makes sure to emphasize his father loved and loves him very much, but I couldn’t help feeling bad for the kid. It must have been hard to live with such a prickly personality.

Would I recommend it? Sure, for a few laughs, but only if you aren’t bothered by cursing. There is scarcely a clean sentence.

And then I was on to:

Sloth by Wendy Wasserstein. Sloth is one of a series on the seven deadly sins, commissioned by The New York Public Library and Oxford University Press and I’m intrigued enough to want to read the others. Wasserstein’s approach to her sin was to create a self-help book, Sloth: And How to Get It. It’s a nice parody of the self-help genre – wry, not silly – as well as a biting commentary on those who coast through life with as little engagement as possible, but I have to admit I found all the talk about giving up hope, creativity, ambition, passion and drive depressing enough that, at times, it seemed like a how-to manual for depression. Giving up doing is one thing (and something that us over-achievers could stand to practice once in a while), but giving up caring pushed it into bummer territory, I thought. Still, the plan’s induction phase, maintenance phase and activity gram counter (limit of fifty per day) made me smile.

And what have you read lately?