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Author Updates

Monday, January 11, 2010

Reminded today by A from Atlanta that Author Updates approaching new record of 1-year sans updates. Hesitant to display lack of consistency by breaking silent streak, but have decided to attempt getting back on track.

2009 marked by assorted travails related to asthma, teaching job, and attempts at finishing new novel. Finally went to monastery in upstate NY and finished new book in late December. Will be published June 2010. In time for dreaded mid-50’s mid-life birthday.

Monastic experience complete success. Had been dreading it, but needed to retreat from depressingly uneventful life to finish book. Approached fearful of feeling like fraud and outsider. Turned out to be very much like every other B&B—a little chilly and run by gay guys. (Albeit gay guys in white robes.) Hadn’t realized it was silent retreat week until middle of dinner first night when lack of conversation indicated something was up Perfect atmosphere for those of us who have nothing interesting to say anyway. Much easier to appear intelligent and thoughtful and no chance of slipping up by mentioning “Dr. Drew’s Celebrity Rehab” in middle of conversation on spirituality.

Title of new novel: INSIGNIFICANT OTHERS. Subject is long-term relationships.

Must practice for ukulele lesson tomorrow. More imposed silence since teacher doesn’t let students talk or play during lesson. Complete waste of time and money, but then, what ukulele lesson wouldn’t be a complete waste of time and money?

Posted by Stephen @ 11:16 PM EST

Monday, January 12, 2009

Have been pissed off at success of beloved yoga studio, which somehow or other seems like bad karma. Classes that once topped off at 10 or 15 students now up 50. Considerable problems with humidity, given that room is heated to 98 degrees. Like being inside steamy, subtropical germ incubator while instructor extols health benefits of exercises. Raised issue of crowding with instructor who shrugged it off. “New Year’s resolutions. It happens every January.” Happy to hear this since most such resolutions have shelf life of about 2 to 3 weeks. Left studio feeling relieved that cigarettes and booze would probably reclaim bulks of the crowd before February. Then had to deal with guilt and bad karma about mean-spirited relief.

Kindle envy resolved in most satisfactory way. Trollope book arrived in the mail 24 hours after placing order. Started reading it and having trouble putting it down. Amusing, vivid, unaffected, and insightful. Best of all, love the way 900 pages feel in the hand and pleasing creasing of binding as reading progresses.

Economizing going well, but as this is New Year’s resolution, will undoubtedly meet fate of nonsmoking and stop-drinking resolutions of annoying yoga students. Which could mean will be unable to afford yoga classes at exact moment overcrowding finally subsides. Karma?

Posted by Stephen @ 03:55 PM EST

Monday, December 29, 2008

Buying books online this morning, had first moment of Kindle Envy. Had to consider this a bad sign. (Kindle being computerized contraption sold by Amazon.com into which one can load vast numbers of “e-books” in a matter of seconds for reduced price.) Have resisted reading about the thing or caring, largely due to repulsive name. Kindle. Like some hideous cross between a spinning child’s toy and one of those odious Japanese electronic “pets” one had to “feed” in order to prevent its “death”. Also because electronic books seem to be threatening or at least confusing already crumbling publishing industry and challenging whole notion of books as actual tangible items one can hold in one’s hands and pull off of shelves and snack on.

But wanted to buy Trollope’s He Knew He Was Right and there it was, electronically, for 99 cents. Could be downloaded onto Kindle (assuming one had one) in seconds. Felt physical craving for it. Fully suspect that sudden desire to read Trollope novel is fleeting urge. By the time book arrives in the mail—did order the paperback item—will have lost the urge or will be unable to sustain desire through entire 900 pages. 99-cent electronic version thus perfect for instant gratification and limited attention span.

Initially felt same way about iPod (end of civilization) and now am compulsive user, madly downloading African jazz, French pop, Italian anything, and—new favorite—strange electronic business that isn’t exactly music but reminds one of steaming power plants as seen across frozen rivers. (Are there any frozen rivers?) Electronic gadgets opened up whole new world of music, so perhaps shouldn’t be so resistant. Then again, imminent collapse of publishing industry and, therefore, so-called “income” makes purchase of Kindle highly unlikely. Must await economic rebound and gadget with less repulsive name.

Posted by Stephen @ 10:40 AM EST

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Obama inaugural invitation to Rick Warren cold water dumped on enthusiasm for new administration. Trying not to care so much or view with usual ironic detachment, but currently not working. Seems to legitimize homophobia (Warren won’t hire openly gay people and equates homosexuality with incest and pederasty) as just another valid “opinion” one can agree or disagree with. Like racism and anti-Semitism? And this guy destined to become —thanks to prominence of speech—voice of moral authority. As if that isn’t enough, Warren big blustery cheerleader for “purpose-driven life”. Enough to make one want to crawl back to bed. Had been making plans for big inauguration-viewing party, but feel kind of silly about it now. “You can come to the party, but we want you to know we don’t like you or approve of you and consider you illegitimate second-class citizen.” (Can go visit certain family members for that reaction.)

Something creepy and disturbing about the goatee--like big, grinning clown mouth drawn in hair around smaller, grinning mouth. One can only hope Warren has Ted Haggard style problem stashed somewhere in back of closet. So often turns out the ones with Jesus as invisible Best Friend think his magic powers confer immunity from exposure.

Howling wind purposefully driving snow against windows for third day in a row. Legitimizing another purposeless driven day of reading more about Oedipal Madoff financial scandal and finishing another Stefan Zweig novella.

Posted by Stephen @ 09:52 AM EST

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Still reeling with shame and self-loathing over major faux pas. Decided to go to funky massage place across from gym following workout to deal with neck and shoulder problems related to new 100$ (whatever) pillow. Basically, Swedish foam lump has turned uncomfortable and detrimental to health, but due to absurd price tag, cannot give it up.

Opted for the chair massage because of minimal price and because idea of getting naked in funky and no doubt germ infested massage place unappealing. Sat in chair, fully clothed, and glanced briefly at masseuse as she approached. Rambling conversation about decline in business due to economic collapse. During lull in conversation, felt the need to fill space to reduce guilt associated with being “served” in this manner and so asked: “When is your baby due?” After three seconds of silence, knew Major Mistake had been committed. Began to sweat from every pore and muscles turned to concrete. Faint giggle somewhere in the distance above. Followed by humorless: “I am not pregnant.”

Longed for trap door under chair with direct access to Hell. Surely Sudden Death Syndrome strikes some adults. No? Mindless chatter to try and cover Major Mistake only Made Matters Worse. Excessive tip to try and compensate only Made Matters Worse. “But what was I thinking? Your stomach is totally flat!” Only Made Matters Worse. Rushed out into traffic in shame and humiliation. Know better than to EVER ask that question. Onset of Tourettes?

Will have to cancel gym membership and possibly move to new city to avoid chance of bumping into masseuse in near future.

Posted by Stephen @ 07:02 PM EST

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Despite ongoing perception of being viewed largely as teetotaler social pariah and no-fun dinner guest, have received—inexplicably—numerous invitations this year to holiday-ish cocktail parties. Three over the past weekend alone and several more upcoming. Usually accept invitations and then forget the date and time, but lure of free food IN THIS ECONOMY too appealing to pass up. Most amusing was unveiling of complete Turgot map of Paris from 1739. Ariel view of entire city, including every building, window, and tree, completed nearly a decade prior to invention of hot air balloon. One of the few remaining such maps from original copper plates. Cocktail party held in Charles Street art gallery and “cabinet de curiosities” on Beacon Hill. Among the curiosities were centuries-old medical instruments and several of the guests. Unexpectedly lively and ribald gathering. Gathered several new phone numbers for vaguely planned eventual dinner party. Best such gatherings in the past have been with collection of mostly unknown guests.

Arrived at second cocktail party very late, when most of guests were extremely well lubricated. Excellent strategy for future events. Reduces need to engage in coherent conversation. Minimal questioning produces maximal inebriated gossip and confessions. Learned of several major financial collapses, one collapsing marriage, and one (not unrelated) affair. Also realized that at certain level of alcohol consumption, desire for food diminishes in most revelers, thus leaving more hors d’oeuvres for teetotaler social pariah guests. Carefully planning arrival times for this week’s holiday gatherings.

Posted by Stephen @ 06:39 PM EST

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Attended Boston Globe party for contributors to op ed page. Wrote five of those one year ago. Pleasant cocktail party with excellent shrimp and assortment of impressive literary and political types. Held in music room of St. Botolph Club, one of those Back Bay clubs where, once-upon-a-time, men smoked and discussed literature, politics and/or their mistresses surrounded by John Singer Sargent paintings and Irish maids. Paintings now replaced with expendable copies. Maids? Unclear. Frigid winds outside and overheated salon added to old-Boston feel—slightly stuffy and starchy, kind of cozy.

Celebrity glamour supplied mostly by presence of Anita Hill. Her face, after all, being familiar from television. No aging apparent from all those years ago at the hearings, and even prettier in person. Discussed teaching since we’re both at the same school. Had to fake certain amount of interest in/knowledge of academia. Has a generally earnest and sincere demeanor. Nervous, therefore, when seeing enfant terrible look come over S’s face, followed by his comment, in ironic tone: “Do you think Obama will appoint you to the Supreme Court?” Moment of uncomfortable silence ensued. That banished, fortunately, by her laughter. “THAT would be awkward,” said she.

Probably should have been more concerned with own faux pas of wearing blue jeans, but tie possibly compensated and salon mercifully dark.

Posted by Stephen @ 03:20 PM EST

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