The Part Besides Sweat

The Observer has a piece about the nature of inspiration, including various artists’ thoughts about it at the end. Novelist Naomi Alderman says:

It’s wonderful when you notice something inspiring unravel before your eyes. I remember hearing a rabbi give a sermon about this once. Inspiration is an aspect of the divine. You are given a gift of a flash of lightning, a moment. The rabbi said it’s as if you are walking in the dark, with no streetlights and no moon, then there’s a flash of lightning and you can see the steeple of the place you are going to. But to actually get there you still have to walk in the dark. And all you can do is to try to keep in your mind that sudden flash on the horizon. That’s exactly what it’s like.

(Via Jenny D.)

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Tuesday Hangovers

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Music Management 101

Help us. Christopher sends this query:

Hey, those of you who use iTunes and so on. I’m putting (most of) our cd collection onto iTunes because presumably we’ll someday have some kind of mp3 players. Also so we can sell a bunch of ’em. Also so we can clear up room for another bookcase.

Anyway, I only have a 30gb hard drive on this computer, so I know I want to move a lot this stuff to my external hard drive, which has about 70gb free right now. My trouble is that my digital files are even more of a mess than my paper files, and I want to keep the stuff organized in some fashion. If I just hit the export library button (or whatever it’s called), what’s the result going to look like on the other end? Can I use iTunes to open multiple libraries, one on my computer and one on my external hard drive? Is there a "managing your music files for dummies" website?

Advice? Mockery? Offers for free iPods?

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Brockmeier’s 50 Favorite Books

Last week, I went to see Kevin Brockmeier do a reading and Q&A for The Brief History of the Dead (highly recommended) sponsored by the local newspaper book club. Brockmeier is a lovely, soft-spoken reader, but he really shines at answering questions. He has that thing people who’ve done a lot of teaching have, where he can answer even the dullest questions in a really interesting way and without being condescending. Like most writers on the road with a book, he’s constantly asked for recommendations. Unlike most other writers on the road with a book, he likes to make lists. So he made one of his fifty favorite novels, with asterisks next to the top 10. He updates it regularly and hands it out at events to recommendation seekers.

By the way, KB reads more than you do. (Unless you’re Jenny D or Colleen or Kelly.) He said the last time he totaled up the number of books he read in a year, it was something like 170. And he has great wide-ranging taste. Many of these that I haven’t read, I’ll definitely be picking up.

Behind the cut, I’ll reproduce the 50 books list in its entirety.

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Wolf On YA (Updated)

In this week’s NYTBR, Naomi Wolf doesn’t like what she’s seeing in certain kinds of YA:

Yet if that parent opened one, he or she might be in for a surprise. The "Gossip Girl," "A-List" and "Clique" series — the most successful in a crowded field of Au Pairs, It Girls and other copycat series — represent a new kind of young adult fiction, and feature a different kind of heroine. In these novels, which have dominated the field of popular girls’ fiction in recent years, Carol Gilligan’s question about whether girls can have "a different voice" has been answered — in a scary way.

I haven’t actually had time to read her piece yet; I’ll update this post when I do (assuming it provokes some sort of response). I’m hoping it’s more than the standard "oh, these teenagers, they grow up so quickly and just look at what they’re reading!" piece. In the meantime, opinions? Anyone else looked at it? Off to do taxes.

Updated:

Okay, so I finally got a chance to read it. (Hell weekend.) And mostly, I echo what y’all are saying below. Much ado about what? The literature of the shallow? It seems to me the vast majority of girls reading these books are reading them as pure escapist or pleasure literature; just because you want to look at what’s on Paris Hilton’s Trio every once in awhile doesn’t mean you want to be Paris Hilton. Or that your life or value system is similar to hers in any way.

Having read very little of this stuff myself (I’m with Scott, the brand-dropping just GRATES), it seems to me that Wolf is making an argument I have seen played out in real life in pretty tame ways. In my experience, it usually involves magazines.

My parents, for instance, never told me what to read or not read. They were glad I did it and helped me have greater access to books however they could. The only time, in fact, that my mother ever expressed concern over something I was reading involved an issue of Sassy magazine (purchased from the local Convenience store), which contained a detailed diagram of the male form with information about various things (some sexual). Years and years later, I was in a household with similar permissiveness in reading material where a teenage girl was forbidden from reading (my) Jane magazine because of sexy content. Now. I don’t believe the parents in either case thought that saying "You can’t read that" would stop us from finding out this stuff (or even keep us from reading it), but it was their impulse, so they did it anyway. I think Benjamin Rosenbaum’s right on the money that it’s not an unusual or even wholly bad thing for parents to react with concern about things like this sometimes. (When they go over the top with it, that’s something else.) They wouldn’t be parents if they didn’t. Naomi’s reacting like a mom and her reaction is lame — it’s also a little sweet if you look at it sideways (but still lame).

It seems to me that these novels — the It Girls and Slut Queens or whatever — are Cosmopolitan and Jane packaged as narratives. That’s why they’re so full of brand names. That’s why they’re so full of shallowness. And that’s okay. Just like flipping through a magazine and reading sex tips for adults didn’t transform my teenage mind, burning out all feminist ideals and turning me into a docile Prada wearer or a high-priced call girl, so I don’t believe that’s a real danger to the girls reading these books.

It’s just for fun. Leave it alone.

See also:

Scott Westerfeld’s response (and yay! on the listyness)
Colleen Mondor’s response

p.s. I’m bumping this post up since there’s some interesting discussion going on in the comments.

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Heaven

Buttermilk200Or the closest thing to it: my mom’s buttermilk pie. I am like to die from it.

Got the taxes done, and we’re actually getting a decent refund this year, which news couldn’t be coming at a better time.

Mr. Rowe’s busily converting all our music to electronic goodness on his new Mac and we’re selling off (most of) the CDs afterward; this is as close as I’ll ever get to willingly giving up my earthly possessions. It’s kind of fun. (And will likely leave room for another bookshelf!) We’ve been listening to lots of music as a result and some of you can expect mix CDs to show up very soon.

Anyway, real posts planned for this week despite a deluge of reading to be done, a (new!) book to be written and the usual.

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Cat vs. Tiara

It’s Friday, I’m lame, incredibly busy, feeling a bit ick around the edges, etc. So.

One Oscar night redux photo.
Catiara

And one of Hemingway guarding the second batch of Fountain Award stories (which I promise, Ms. Meisner, I’ve since opened and begun reading).
Box

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More Tiptree Love

Colleen Mondor pointed me to an excellent column by Adrienne Martini in the current issue of Bookslut called "Science Fiction, Bake Sales, and the Feminist Cabal." It looks at the Tiptree Award itself, the two Tiptree Award anthologies and even gets into some biography of James Tiptree, Jr./Alice Sheldon. Definitely worth a look, whether you already know what all this fuss is about or not. Simply put: It’s the best award! The best!

(And Colleen’s own review column looks at some YA fantasies on the heels of Harry Potter this time around.)

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Wednesday Hangovers

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Rebuttals Continue

Liz Hand sends a letter to Locus about the NYTBR’s new SF column:

I lay awake last night brooding over Dave Itzkoff’s list of his favorite SF books. I was delighted to see his positive review of David Marusek’s stunning new novel, but the list troubles me: no women? no writers of a younger vintage than China Mieville? With all respect for Lucius Sorrentino, Itzkoff’s list seems as though it were compiled by a dutiful student who had taken a single elective course in the literature, focusing on white male SF writers of the last century. In light of Octavia Butler’s recent and tragic death, this seems particularly egregious.

Best regards,

Elizabeth Hand

Speaking of which, recent events seem to have resurrected the letters page; always a good thing in my opinion. There’s been some robust debate there in the past.

Updated: Yet another reason to love Ed.

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