Drew Reviews: There Are Little Kingdoms

There Are Little Kingdoms by Kevin Barry
4 Stars - Strongly Recommended
Pages: 160
Publisher: Graywolf Press
Released: Sept 2013

Guest review by Drew Broussard 

The Short Version: Kevin Barry's debut collection of short stories - featuring more tales of strange folk, drinking folk, family folk, and that uniquely Irish magic. 

The Review: It's always strange to step back through an author's canon in reverse.  It is only natural that an author's style will mature - for better or for worse, I'll admit.  Chuck Palahniuk's later novels are, we all know, not as good as his earlier ones - but authors like Kevin Barry and Karen Russell have clearly grown and developed from practicing their art.  I loved City of Bohane (like, loved) and Dark Lies the Island is rather exceptional as well - so then is it any surprise that I enjoyed these tales, too?

And is it any surprise that I found them, comparatively, a little lacking?  No.  I shouldn't think either of these points would come as a shock, not really.  For while the signs of Mr. Barry's greatness are here, there are also clear examples of the writer just beginning to hone his blade.  

Don't get me wrong, there are stories that pack as much punch as those of Mr. Barry's more recent collection.  "Breakfast Wine" is a perfect tale and well-told.  The stylistic adventure of "Party at Helen's" shows daring and uncommon raw talent.  And "Atlantic City" captures the rawness of life in a way that foreshadows the young men & women of Bohane.   There's even a bit of the hint of the strange here - "Last Days of the Buffalo", I think it is, features a main character who clearly has a bit of the gift to him, in an unsettling way.  Same with the crazy old lady in "The Wintersongs".  We see the elements of storytelling that are both as-old-as-time and so refreshingly new in Barry's writing coming into bloom here. 

But, for the first time, there are a few dud moments.  The last few stories feel somewhat 'eh' and even some of the stronger concepts ("Burn the Bad Lamp", for example, which hilariously features a genie) don't quite stick the landing.  There's a sense of trying things here.  A sense of seeing what'll work and what won't - and this an important and necessary step in an author's development, for sure.  The aforementioned stylistic innovation of "Party at Helen's" succeeds - we jump from one character's POV to another's seamlessly, several times over - and to my mind, it gives the author the right to try something else... like, say creating a whole new dialect of the English language.  

Mostly, it's hard not to enjoy these stories - even the weaker ones.  Barry just has a way with words, a simple magic that feels nonetheless like magic.  Here's a simple example, from the beginning of "Breakfast Wine": 
"They say it takes just three alcoholics to keep a small bar running in a country town and while myself and the cousin, Thomas, were doing what we could, we were a man shy, and these were difficult days for Mr. Kelliher, licensee of The North Star, Pearse Street."

It's colloquial, it's comfortable - it sounds like that Irish guy at the bar 'round the corner who tells such great stories.  It sounds like your friend who always has the deep yet sassy comment.  It sounds like a smile on a summer evening.  

Rating: 4 out of 5.  The weaker stories here make me want to revise my opinion of Dark Lies the Island a little bit higher - there are a few tales here that do, for whatever reason, fall a bit short of the mark.  But that doesn't make this a bad collection.  Far from it; as a debut, it pretty much crushes it and even looking at it retrospectively, you can see the talent that comes to the fore in Barry's more recent works.  I've said this twice now and I'll say it at least once more before the year is out - but you need to read Kevin Barry.  He's an uncommon talent, all the more uncommon for how simple and life-like his insights can be.

I should also note that I read this book with a 'tarot card' (from Mike Daisey's show at The Public right now) as a bookmark - and I couldn't have asked for a more fitting placeholder.  

Drew Broussard reads, a lot. When not doing that, he's writing stories or playing music or acting or producing or coming up with other ways to make trouble.  He also has a day job at The Public Theater in New York City.

Indie Spotlight: Lisa Rosen

I'm no different from every other book blogger on the block. I get pitched requests for reviews daily. More books than I could dream of reading in this lifetime. Hell, more than I could possibly even read in the next one! 

Sometimes the books are a complete mismatch, and other times they are right up my alley. Sometimes the timing is just horribly wrong, and other times the timing is perfect. 

Either way, when I know I can't get to an author's book in a reasonable amount of time, or if I decide to turn it down because it just isn't right for me, I still want to help spread the word. Who knows, maybe the book is perfect for one of you?! 

That was the original idea behind this spotlight series. To draw your attention towards the small press and self published authors who have a book to pitch, a story to tell, and a little insight to share. 

Today's spotlight shines on Lisa Rosen, author of the self published novel Motherline. Motherline is a story about those days in a family--weddings, funerals, births--when everyone comes together, you know those days, where all that history and garbage begins to fester and boil and starts to explode?

Today, Lisa shares a short essay on why she writes:

Why I Write

“I’m not sure how we’ll sell it.” “Sorry, it’s not right for our list.” “Your writing is beautiful, but it’s just not commercial enough.”


I got tired of hearing the refrain, and that’s how I wound up self-publishing. It’s also how I developed a raging chocolate problem—as far as self-medication goes, it’s probably a relatively harmless addiction.
So it’s not surprising that last weekend I dropped by the local chocolate shop to get a fix—sometimes a little square of dark-chocolate-salted-honey-caramel is the only thing standing between me and total shrewishness—and got to chatting with Starr, the owner. Starr knows vaguely who I am, mainly because I always drag her away from her actual work to yak about how much I love chocolate (a fact which makes me exactly like everyone else in the chocolate shop).

Anyway, Starr asked what I had been up to. I mentioned that my novel, Motherline, had come out the weekend before. She knew, but had forgotten, so I gave her my card. The cover art piqued her curiosity, so I gave her the two-sentence summary.

Now, Starr is the mother of a toddler, so mothers and babies and stories of birth and death and family baggage get her attention (she’s not terribly unusual in that respect). And I knew this—I fully acknowledge that I’m targeting that audience particularly. But I was unprepared for her response. By the time I left the chocolate shop, I’d heard her whole birth story—about her mother crawling into the bed and holding her during the contractions, about the panic when they realized the baby was stuck, the emergency C-section, the grief and fear and the life-altering joy of her baby’s birth.   She teared up a little telling me, and we hugged when I left.

Is Motherline commercial enough? Honestly, I don’t know—only time (and my best marketing efforts) will tell. But what I do know is that Starr’s feedback—before she’d even read the novel—is all the encouragement I need. I’ll take Starr’s hugs, or the emails and tweets and Facebook messages I’ve gotten from early readers. When my novel strikes an emotional chord in a reader, and she reaches out to tell how meaningful it is, I think maybe this is a new definition of commercial that I can live with.

Bio:

Lisa Rosen is currently a writer and a stay-at-home mom with a bad case of wanderlust.  As soon as their teenagers leave the nest, she and her husband intend to take their laptops on the road full-time.  In the interim, she lives and writes in North Carolina, where she earned a PhD in literature from the University of North Carolina.

Sabrina Zollo's Guide to Books & Booze

Time to grab a book and get tipsy!

Books & Booze is a mini-series of sorts here on TNBBC that will post every Friday in October. The participating authors were challenged to make up their own drinks, name and all, or create a drink list for their characters and/or readers using drinks that already exist. 

Today, Sabrina Zollo shares drinks that she's paired with her book Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend, and its characters:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Books & Booze is the perfect place to introduce WHY I LOVE MY GAY BOYFRIEND, because (a) it's a book and (b) booze does have a prominent place within it. 

If you haven't guessed by now, WHY I LOVE MY GAY BOYFRIEND is a chick lit novel, not a romance self-help book. It celebrates the special relationship between a girl and her gay friend. The story also warns of the dangers of working at a global cosmetics empire if your true wish is to save babies in Africa. 

If I had to choose a drink to represent the novel and the main characters within it, they would be as light, bubbly and fun as the story itself. To kick it off, here's a drink I created which I've lovingly coined the: 

Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend Drink

1/2 oz Cointreau orange liqueur

1/2 oz vodka

1 oz pomegranate juice

3 oz San Pelligrino

Mint leaf for garnish

VERONICA

Many people ask me whether Veronica is based on myself to which I vehemently insist that the novel is 100% fictional. Veronica is so wonderfully awkward and naive in her hopes and ideals. But alas, while Veronica is 100% not based on me, I can 100% relate to her. Maybe you can too.

Meet Veronica:

"My decision to accept a job at Gisele, a global cosmetics empire, was easy. Lack of options and desperation lead to swift decision-making. My best friends took me out to our favourite pub, The Betty Ford Clinic, as consolation, rather than celebration. While settling didn’t deserve a fist bump, it certainly served as a valid reason to drink excessively."

Excerpt from “Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend.” 

Veronica Drink: Jäger. Because tequila is so overdone.

STEVIE

The gay best friend. Why does Veronica love Stevie? Any man that can make you feel so good without sex is a keeper. 

Meet Stevie:

“He’s Team Veronica; tells her she’s gorgeous; he’s super fun and hilarious; makes her laugh; loves fashion and shopping. He says things like ‘you look fa-bu today’ and ‘oh no you dih-int!’ and ‘hollah at ya girl!’” [Author's note: this book was set several years ago when people actually used these expressions.]

"That's not true. He has much better pronunciation than that."

Excerpt from “Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend.” 

Stevie Drink: Cosmopolitan Martini. It's sassy, sophisticated and always invited to the party. 

SAVANNAH

Everyone has had some sort of soul-crushing experience with a boss. I created the character of Savannah as an endearing nod to such experiences. 

Meet Savannah:

"Savannah’s empty diet and social life led to her constant angry state. She seemed to live on the brink of collapse on a diet of baby carrots, champagne and contempt for others. She entertained herself by searching for ways to feed the vacant void in her soul by brutalizing others into an equally miserable existence." 

Excerpt from "Why I Love My Gay Boyfriend"

Drink: a bottle of Veuve Cliquot.  It is unapologetically over-priced and indulgent. Even the bottle looks snobby. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sabrina Zollo is a marketer and author who lives in Toronto, Canada. She has been compulsively writing stories since childhood. She graduated with an MBA from York University and has worked in brand management for almost ten years. Sabrina is a consummate lover of Pinot Grigio, dark chocolate, shoes and spin class.

Indie Ink Runs Deep: Chris L Terry

I'd been tossing around the idea of blogging a tattoo series for nearly a year. I know there are websites and books out there that have been-there-done-that already, but I hadn't seen one with a specific focus on the authors and publishers of the small press community. 

After hoarding the photos and essays I've been collecting from these guys since July of 2012, and with the promise of spring peeking its deliciously sunny head out through all of this winter gloom, I decided there was no better time than now to finally unveil THE INDIE INK RUNS DEEP mini-series!

Today's ink comes from Chris L. Terry. Chris has a Fiction Writing MFA from Columbia College Chicago. Curbside Splendor published his novel Zero Fade (Curbside Splendor, 2013), which Kirkus called, "Original, hilarious, thought-provoking and wicked smart: not to be missed." Visit ChrisLTerry.com for more of his writing.

I’ve got tattoos all over my back, legs and arms, but this one stays alone. It’s in honor of my friend Jonny Z, who died in Richmond, Virginia in May 2007. Jonny was an artist, an activist, a beast of a drummer, a member of an elite club called Roommates I’d Live With Again, and the kindest person I knew. Maybe too kind. Like, “Do you have to keep letting your smelly friend live on our couch?” kind. Like, Force you to examine how you interact with people kind.

I tend to be a loner, kinda self-absorbed. Seeing the way that Jonny brought people together showed me that it was possible to trust others, to work with them instead of separating myself. It was a big help in those punkhouse living situations. You can’t be alone then. It’s impossible. So go with the flow.

You’ll see a lot of Richmond old heads with Z tattoos in honor of Jonny. He was a huge part of the city’s creative community, and immediately became a folk hero upon passing, “Be Like Jonny Z” a credo.

This tattoo is of a coffee travel mug like Jonny always carried, but with angel wings and a halo – crooked because it’s having fun. Hope he is too.

 

Order Zero Fade from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound. 

Keep up with Chris L. Terry and Zero Fade on social media:
Facebook.com/zerofadenovel
Twitter.com/zerofade94
Zerofade94.tumblr.com

This post is part of the Zero Fade Blog Tour, where different sites cover the book on the days surrounding its publication. The entire itinerary is listed here: http://www.curbsidesplendor.com/curbside/blog/zero-fade-blog-tour

  

David Maine's Would You Rather

Bored with the same old fashioned author interviews you see all around the blogosphere? Well, TNBBC's newest series is a fun, new, literary spin on the ole Would You Rather game. Get to know the authors we love to read in ways no other interviewer has. I've asked them to pick sides against the same 20 odd bookish scenarios. And just to spice it up a bit, each author gets to ask their own Would You Rather question to the author who appears after them....

David Maine's

Would You Rather

Would you rather write an entire book with your feet or with your tongue?

My tongue is quite rounded so I don’t think it would be too effective as a writing implement. On the other hand, I have two left feet, which is problematic in its own way. There’s really no good answer to this one. I guess I’d go with tongue. That way I could savor every word, and besides, it would encourage me to be pithy and concise.

Would you rather have one giant bestseller or a long string of moderate sellers?

Sheesh, I’d happily opt for either one. A bestseller could set you up for a long time, whereas a string of moderates would keep your career ticking steadily along. I think I’d prefer the moderate success. As long as each book does well enough for the next book to happen, that’s good enough for me. Of course, I’d also like to, I don’t know, own a house someday? So get back to me on this one. The answer might change in a few years.

Would you rather be a well known author now or be considered a literary genius after you’re dead?

Who cares what they think after you’re dead? I’ll take the ego-boost during my lifetime, thanks.

Would you rather write a book without using conjunctions or have every sentence of your book begin with one?

Without. Starting every sentence with a  conjunction would drive me nuts, whereas forgoing them entirely would require me to come up with some stylized speech patterns a la Spartacus on TV. This is workable and might even be fun.

Would you rather have every word of your favorite novel tattooed on your skin or always playing as an audio in the background for the rest of your life?

Either one would make me insane. I respectfully refuse to answer.

Would you rather write a book you truly believe in and have no one read it or write a crappy book that compromises everything you believe in and have it become an overnight success?

Oh, hell, the former I suppose. But the older I get, the more appealing the other choice gets. The way I see it, though, it’s impossible to deliberately write a crappy book. People write what they are compelled to write. I may think Harlequin Romances are shit, but that doesn’t mean I could write one. If I tried, there would be enough of me in it that it would be some unholy offspring of Dave Maine and Harlequin, and I would probably end up sort of liking it in some twisted way and it would bomb anyhow.

BTW, for a fictionalized illustration of this quandry you should all go read Erasure by Percival Everett, which is hilarious and infuriating in equal measure.

Would you rather write a plot twist you hated or write a character you hated?

Plot twist. You can get over a plot twist, other stuff happens, whatever. But a character you have to live with for the entire book, years possibly, and then s/he lives on afterward too. So if you hate them, you’re really making your life difficult. I mean you’re going to dream about these people.

Would you rather use your skin as paper or your blood as ink?

My blood. I hate tattoos and anything that involves marking up my (already-not-so-great) skin. Blood, on the other hand, you regenerate, so…

Would you rather become a character in your novel or have your characters escape the page and reenact the novel in real life?

Okay, this is a tough one. Neither is too terribly appealing to tell the truth. I suppose it’s better to keep the end of the world (the subject of my first book) in the pages of a novel rather than out here in reality, but then again, most of my books take place in settings where I’d really rather not be… Kind of a coin toss here, they both have their advantages and (especially) disadvantages.

Would you rather write without using punctuation and capitalization or without using words that contained the letter E?

Well I did the first, in my original manuscript of The Book of Samson, and that was a blast. I mean, I did use some punctuation—periods—but nothing else, and paragraph breaks, and that was it. My agent and editor threw that out and inserted paragraph indents, although there are still no commas or quotation marks or anything. It was a blast to write, gave a very different feeling to the momentum of the story, and I’d think about going back there again. As for giving up the letter E, yeah, those kind of tricks don’t appeal to me much. I guess you have to be French.

Would you rather have schools teach your book or ban your book?

Teach it. I don’t want schools to ban anything. (Which doesn’t mean I think Lolita should be taught to 7^th graders. I just don’t think it should be banned.)

Would you rather be forced to listen to Ayn Rand bloviate for an hour or be hit on by an angry Dylan Thomas?

Bring it on, Dylan. Make me sweat, for all the wrong reasons.

Would you rather be reduced to speaking only in haiku or be capable of only writing in haiku?

Speaking. That way I could sound oblique and brilliant, which is something I have trouble with right now. I think if I only wroke in haiku, nobody would read me at all, even my mom. Come to think of it, I’m not sure my mom reads me now.

Would you rather be stuck on an island with only the 50 Shades Series or only the BLANK series?

Well, I don’t know what the Blank series is, so I’ll go with that.

Would you rather critics rip your book apart publically or never talk about it at all?

I have some experience of both of these things, and I think it’s better to be scorned than ignored. On the other hand, getting scorned isn’t a lot of fun either. This is one of those questions that seem to have an obvious answer—negative attention is better than none at all—but frankly that response is a little glib. I do think that it’s better to be reviewed badly than not reviewed at all, but neither of these experiences is enjoyable. The choice is much tougher than many people would have you believe.

Would you rather have everything you think automatically appear on your Twitter feed or have a voice in your head narrate your every move?

I already have a voice in my head narrating everything! It’s been there my whole life. I thought everybody had this (?) but maybe not. Anyway, I’ll stick with what I know. I have trouble enough with Twitter already.

Would you rather give up your computer or pens and paper?

Computer.

Would you rather write an entire novel standing on your tippy-toes or laying down flat on your back?

I’d rather be lying down, but I’d probably worry that it was bad for my heart, so then I’d go with standing on tiptoes. This wouuld not be easy for me; balance isn’t my strong suit, and I’m one of the clumsiest people I know. So the chapters would be short. Hey! It might be a way to get me to write “sudden fiction” or whatever that nonsense is called.

Would you rather read naked in front of a packed room or have no one show up to your reading?

I’d have to go with naked. It would be mortifying, but mostly for the audience.

Would you rather read a book that is written poorly but has an excellent story, or read one with weak content but is written well? 

Probably the latter. Even a tired storyline can be elevated by strong writing on the sentence level, whereas it’s just frustrating to read something potentially good that is hampered by weak writing, clichéd phrasing and so forth. Of course, it’s most satisfying to read an excellent story that is written well, but that doesn’t seem to be an option here.

Here's David's response to Mason Johnson's question: If the pen is truly mightier than the sword, what would you rather die from: stab wounds from a pen, or stab wounds from a sword?

Pen. They'd be smaller, but deeper, and I wouldn't suffer as long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Check back next week to see what Andrew F Sullivan would rather

and see his answer to Mason's question:

Would you rather have your novel turned into a comic book aimed at 12-year-olds, or turned into a Starz “adults only” miniseries with lots of gratuitous nudity and violence?

   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David Maine is an old-fashioned pen-on-paper writer who adds his musings to the endless aching howl of the internet.

Drew Reviews: The Facades

The Facades by Eric Lundgren  
4.5 Stars - Strongly recommended
Pages: 272
Publisher: Overlook Press 
Released: Sept. 2013

Guest review by Drew Broussard 

The Short Version: After his moderately famous mezzo-soprano wife disappears, Sven Norberg wanders the streets of Trude in search of her.  But the strange Midwestern town, full of radical librarians and odd cops as well as ordinarily odd people, seems to foil him at every turn - and over it all looms the strange and jarring architecture of Trude's most celebrated resident, a man named Bernhard.

The Review: Trude is apparently a city from Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities (Calvino seems to be the hot inspiration these days) - although, having not read the book, I have no distinct point of reference to whether or not Lundgren's view of the city is accurate. Not that it matters, I suppose - but I just thought I'd get that out of the way.

It's worth getting out of the way, you see, because I think Mr. Lundgren is following in the footsteps of another notoriously trickster author: Vladimir Nabokov.  Nobody wants to be that guy saying "on the basis of this debut novel, author Y is the next X!" - but I found The Facades to have such a mostly-successful melding of wordplay, invention, ridiculousness, and deep examinations of the human condition that I couldn't help but think of Nabokov.  It's a unique combination and while plenty of authors combine those elements in their own ways, I found Lundgren's writing to have that same element of deciphering a word-puzzle that you can sometimes (joyously) find in Nabokov.  Of course, that might just be because there are actual word puzzles to be deciphered (two delightful acrostics, in particular).  But the puzzles, the questions of madness that surround the book, and the layers upon layers of oddities in the city never overwhelm or confuse - instead, you get the sense of a terrifically smart hand on the tiller. 

I will admit that the book started a bit slow.  It's unclear, at first, what this story is going to be: mystery? WMFU? Absurd comedy? Something else all together?  And the subplot involving Norberg's son and a vaguely cultish religious order feels oddly similar to Tom Perrotta's The Leftovers - not in a bad way, necessarily, and certainly not in a plagiarism way.  But the similar theme applies - it's just that where that book was about what happens universally when people disappear, this book is about what happens individually when one person disappears.  It was the only moment that didn't feel entirely organic and new.
Well, the radical librarians feel like kindred spirits to Lemony Snicket (especially the new YA novels) or Terry Pratchett concoctions - but Lundgren also gave them a grounding in this reality and a unique spin, so I didn't mind that so much.  I also love the idea of radical librarians, so I was completely on board.

Opera lovers will find special bonus tricks and treats here - and the idea of this massive opera house, full to the brim of baroque ornamentation, in the middle of an otherwise rather dreary and oppressive Midwestern town... it's a hilarious concept of course but also a fitting moment on which to latch when trying to comprehend the way Lundgren works.  This idea is innately ridiculous, of course - but these productions are lavish.  A Baron attends.  They are daring, innovative, and a major cultural touchstone.  But outside of the opera house, there is a sense of that overwhelming claustrophobia that one so often discovers in the Midwest.  That sense of the expanse, of the lack of immediate escapes, if you will.  And that's what makes Molly's disappearance all the more intriguing: Trude is a place (as the epigraph from Calvino and an ending note from Vollstrom both imply) that you do not escape from.  It is a place that contains you and you are contained by it and that is the way of things.  

Think of Bernhard's massive and odd mall, perhaps his masterpiece in the end: a spiral inward towards a great labyrinth - one that is, apparently, unsolvable.  You may try to get out but in the end you are forced to retread the same steps as before.  You are confined to the same place, stuck there.  Think, too, of the rest home for the elderly and insane that Bernhard built and expired in: your memoirs, ranked on level of harrowingness, will get you in and determine your accommodations.  I don't want to give too much away of the concepts at hand because they are funny and interesting and worth discovering on your own - but there are overarching themes to all of these places and things and it makes the book not only an enjoyable read but a mental exercise as well.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.  I can't exactly say why I'm not giving this a full 5.  Perhaps it's the way it was a bit slow to start or the few moments here or there that felt unnecessary or superfluous.  Although, I almost wonder if this book will grow in my estimation some years down the line - re-reading it to discover new facets, uncover new tricks of language, and so on.  New light shed upon things I previously thought to be just... there.  Who is to say?  Readers should understand (and be warned) that the slightly wacky sound of the official synopsis is more muted in the book - but that the true depth is in the distinct imagination of the author and of his creation here.  This is a puzzle to be solved - but you can't be upset if there turns out to be no solution.

Drew Broussard reads, a lot. When not doing that, he's writing stories or playing music or acting or producing or coming up with other ways to make trouble.  He also has a day job at The Public Theater in New York City.

Mason Johnson's Would You Rather

Bored with the same old fashioned author interviews you see all around the blogosphere? Well, TNBBC's newest series is a fun, new, literary spin on the ole Would You Rather game. Get to know the authors we love to read in ways no other interviewer has. I've asked them to pick sides against the same 20 odd bookish scenarios. And just to spice it up a bit, each author gets to ask their own Would You Rather question to the author who appears after them....

Mason Johnson's 

Would You Rather

Would you rather write an entire book with your feet or with your tongue?

 Tongue. I’d dictate it to someone. If anyone called me out as a cheat, I’d stab ‘em with a broken bottle.

Would you rather have one giant bestseller or a long string of moderate sellers?

 Which would obtain me the better twitter following? Probably the giant bestseller. I think I’d go with that.

Would you rather be a well known author now or be considered a literary genius after you’re dead?

 I was going to say now, to pay the bills, but then I remembered well known authors don’t make that much. So I’ll go with literary genius.

Would you rather write a book without using conjunctions or have every sentence of your book begin with one?

 I’m a big abuser of conjunctions. So if I were able to magically break the habit, I’d be a happy man.

Would you rather have every word of your favorite novel tattooed on your skin or always playing as an audio in the background for the rest of your life? 

Both. I’m going to go with both.

Would you rather write a book you truly believe in and have no one read it or write a crappy book that comprises everything you believe in and have it become an overnight success?

 If I could somehow sustain myself writing and never showing anyone, I would. Though this would you rather says nothing about sustaining yourself. Still, it seems really to be able to just write and not have to show anyone ever again. Trying to become published takes up so much time – time that could be better spent – that I would almost rather not have to try at all. I donno.

Would you rather write a plot twist you hated or write a character you hated?

 Write a character I hated. I really like when an author can write a hateable character. I love hateable characters. I would love to hate my character.

Would you rather use your skin as paper or your blood as ink?

 Blood as ink seems wiser, assuming you’re economical with it.

Would you rather become a character in your novel or have your characters escape the page and reenact the novel in real life?

 I’d make Kelly LeBrock a character in a novel so I could reenact Weird Science.

Would you rather write without using punctuation and capitalization or without using words that contained the letter E? 

punctuation and capitalization are outdated anyway.

Would you rather have schools teach your book or ban your book?

 Ban it! Think of the press!

Would you rather be forced to listen to Ayn Rand bloviate for an hour or be hit on by an angry Dylan Thomas?

 I’m really good at taking a hit. I’m talented at very few things. I mean, I’m not good at writing, I just spend a lot of time doing it. I have a natural talent for getting hit though. For example: I can get punched in the face over and over and over, and nothing. Most people would fall when they feel the cartilage in their nose being flattened – not me.

What was the question?

Would you rather be reduced to speaking only in haiku or be capable of only writing in haiku?

 Speaking in Haiku. I’d obviously be forced to become a wandering samurai, which I was going to do anyway.

Would you rather be stuck on an island with only the 50 Shades Series or a series in a language you couldn't read?

 I'd want to be stuck with whatever series has the most books and is the most buoyant. Though, I would like to add, trash or not, 50 Shades of Grey is likely to, uh, keep you better company at night than, you know, most "good" books.

 Would you rather critics rip your book apart publicly or never talk about it at all?

 Publicly. Again: free press!

Would you rather have everything you think automatically appear on your Twitter feed or have a voice in your head narrate your every move?

 I already have a voice in my head narrating my every move. But question about the Twitter-thought: would it also post mental images? That makes it simultaneously more tantalizing and scary at the same time.

Would you rather give up your computer or pens and paper?

 Pens and paper. Between my horrible handwriting and the fact that I’ve hurt my writing hand a bunch of times, making it slightly painful to write for long lengths of time, makes this an easy one.

Would you rather write an entire novel standing on your tippy-toes or laying down flat on your back?

 No contest: flat on my back.

Would you rather read naked in front of a packed room or have no one show up to your reading?

 Read naked. I didn’t even read my other choice. Naked is definitely better than whatever else was written.

Would you rather read a book that is written poorly but has an excellent story, or read one with weak content but is written well? 

 Excellent story! Anyone can learn the mechanics ‘n shit; give me a natural born story slinger.

And here is Mason's answer to the question David David Katzman asked him last week:

If you were a body builder, would you rather do curls with Infinite Jest or In Search of Lost Time?

I do curls, and all exercises, in the mirror so I can watch myself. Since Infinite Jest seems to have a better design visually, I'll have to go with that. You won't find me reading the damn thing though!

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Check back next week to see what David Maine would rather

and see his answer to Mason's question:

If the pen is truly mightier than the sword, what would you rather die from: stab wounds from a pen, or stab wounds from a sword?

  

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Mason Johnson is a writer from Chicago who currently works full time writing and editing articles for CBS. You can find his fiction at themasonjohnson.com. Also, he pets all the cats.

Where Writers Write: Scott Garson

Welcome to another installment of TNBBC's Where Writers Write!

Where Writers Write is a weekly series that will feature a different author every Wednesday as they showcase their writing spaces using short form essay, photos, and/or video. As a lover of books and all of the hard work that goes into creating them, I thought it would be fun to see where the authors roll up their sleeves and make the magic happen. 

This is Scott Garson. 

He is the author of IS THAT YOU, JOHN WAYNE?--a collection of stories--and AMERICAN GYMNOPEDIES, a book of microfictions. His fiction has won awards from Playboy, The Mary Roberts Rinehart Foundation and Dzanc Books, and he has work in or coming from Kenyon Review, American Short Fiction, Hobart, Conjunctions, New York Tyrant and others. He edits the Pushcart-Prize-winning journal of very short fiction, Wigleaf.

Where Scott Garson Writes

Mostly I write on this couch. From the squished-in cushions, you can probably see which side I favor.

I  feel like I should write in a different place. A harder and less comfortable place. I should maybe write standing. Didn’t Hemingway write standing? (Checking Google…)

He did.

If I wrote standing, I’d remember that the work is hard and that the sentences had to be firm, and that would be good.

But Hemingway was a jerk-off, yes?

I know he would have kicked my ass; I’m not trying to say that he wouldn’t have. Still, he was a jerk-off. So I wouldn’t want to write standing up. I wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Anyway the basic truth about writing: you’re losing yourself. It’s probably easier to lose yourself if your back and your butt don’t hurt.

I also write inside my book cover.

Is that cryptic? It’s supposed to be cryptic.

Here’s the story: my brother-in-law, Jason Hieronymus, designed the cover for my collection of stories, IS THAT YOU, JOHN WAYNE? He was here visiting when he designed it. In fact, he was staying in my writing room, which is also the guest room. And because he’s a graphic designer and able to see things sideways, he looked at the wall behind the couch where I write and he began seeing the cover of a book.

Is that not awesome?

And double-awesome: one of those frames on the wall contains photos I took of my wife smoking a cigarette just after we got married. Jason put a white block over the photographs, but later made it somewhat transparent. So you can still see them.

You could say—and you’d be correct—that in the bottom corner of the cover of my book there are several tiny photographs of my wife in a bridal gown smoking. And you could also say that I write just beneath them.

So it’s a good place to write.

I haven’t mentioned: on the wall across from the couch are the bookshelves. If I’m having a sucky day, I can stand and stretch and go to the shelves—for pleasure, for inspiration.