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So we've have three computers die in the past three weeks. [Sigh.] Rustled up the moolah for one replacement (Apple reconditioned e-) Mac but cannot possibly come up with the capital required for another two...So: anyone got an old Mac they're willing to give us in exchange for lots of free books? Doesn't need to be fancy, can even be still on OS9, no princesses here. E-mail me.
Soft Skull's now on MySpace, joining Lisa Crystal Carver and George Tabb, right here.
For some reason we've described ouselves as "Male, 65 years old"...perhaps collectively?
The following is an annoucement about National Small Press Month, an announcement e-mailed to me to encourage us, as an independent press, to get the word out about a month that celebrates the universe of which we are but a tiny component. We will of course be doing our best, and part of what I thought I'd do is re-write it slightly, as an address to readers of this blog, who I imagine to be a mix of bloggers, writers, perhaps the occasional bookseller and librarian?
March 2006 is the tenth anniversary of National Small Press Month. Co-founded by the Small Press Center and the PMA, the Independent Book Publishers Association, National Small Press Month is a yearly celebration of independent publishing, much in the same vein as National Poetry Month. It has taken place each March since 1996, and so far has been somewhat of a quiet effort. In this, the tenth year, we aim to make more of an impact on a nationwide level, promoting independent presses in general and their authors in particular. This year our theme is National Small Press Month: Books Beyond the Obvious.
To help publicize any events that are being organized, Small Press Month posters, which are free of charge, may be requested. This year, Kurt Vonnegut has graciously allowed his self-portrait to be used on the eye-catching, color posters that look great in libraries, stores, schools and local gathering spots.
We are looking to generate enthusiasm and action on all fronts of independent publishing—from the distributors to publishers to bookstores to writers. By involving different segments of the small and independent publishing community, we can make more of a collective effort to raise public awareness of the important work published by small presses.Independent Presses are a key factor in the success of National Small Press Month. We are encouraging you to in turn contact your local bookstores and libraries to schedule readings, arrange for displays of your titles, book ads in area papers, among many other suggestions.
You may go to our website at www.smallpressmonth.org or the Small Press Center website at www.smallpress.org to download 31 Suggestions of What Publishers Can Do for National Small Press Month, plus 10 Things Bookstores and Libraries can do to take part, as well as a Poster Request Form.
Given how many of those if you reading this are fans of, or even indebted to small/independent presses in some fashion, you're probably all alreday doing things to help. But perhaps score a couple of posters and prevail upon your local bookseller and library to put them up, or mention the Month when you're annoucing events you're mentioning on your site or blog, or if you're a freelancer, see if you can pitch an article to your editor?
Together, we can raise awareness in support of the hundreds of publishers and the amazing work they all do. On behalf of Small Press Month coordinating committee, which includes the Small Press Center, PMA, Book Sense and CLMP, [and Soft Skull Press] thank you for your time and consideration.
Herewith a semi-promotional, semi-unselfinterested item: a plea from the director of a DIY film called Quality of Life (" tells the story of two young graffiti writers who struggle to maintain their friendship as their lives unravel and the cops close in.") to pre-order a ticket this week so as to encourage the Pioneer Theatre to give them a longer run...
It's a semi-promo item because we'll be publishing a book based on the film in August. Called Putting the Pieces Together, it included interviews, photos, the screenplay, and also a "DIY film school"—how to make your own DIY movie...
It got some lovely reviews at the festivals:
"Extraordinary" —Berlin International Film Festival Jury (WINNER - Special Mention)
"The film is amazing"—WoosterCollective.com
"A powerful and emotionally satisfying film"—Jane Ganahl, San Francisco Chronicle
"Excellent"—Jeff Anderson, San Francisco Examiner
"Supreme acting and great music...captivating"—Stockholm International Film Festival Jr. Jury (WINNER - Best Youth Film)
"Streetwise honesty...powerful"—Seattle Post-Intelligencer
There's a cool trailer...
And, as another of our authors, Josh McPhee wrote, in that lovely low-key hyperbole that exemplfies the DIY activist artists we know:
I hear this movie is phenomenal, and the director seems like a pretty cool guy, interested in sparking a real dialogue about the role of graffiti in society and a serious questioning of the results of the criminalization of the art...
so, if you are interested, maybe buy a ticket and help them out!!
PLEASE HELP QUALITY OF LIFE GET A WIDER RELEASE!
As you know, we are self-distributing Quality of Life in limited theaters before we release the dvd this summer. We played in SF for 6 strong weeks and are now set to embark upon our national release, including New York City April 6-12 (Pioneer Theater, 155 East 3rd Street between A and B)
A strong showing in NYC will open doors for future screenings. At this point, the theater in New York has us booked for one week, one screening a day. We have proven that there is a strong and hungry audience for this film. However, since we are self-distributing and do not bring ad dollars to the table, the theater owners remain unconvinced. Which is where you come in.
The NYC theater has agreed to schedule more screenings if and only if we are able to sell a few tix this week. (Unlike a traditional booking which gets held over based on actual Box Office performance, calendar houses like this must book months in advance.) Please buy your tix today and help give us an opportunity to prove the film has legs.
There's a great webzine, based out of Belfast in Northern Ireland called Dogmatika and they do some very nice little interviews, including a couple in the recent months with Soft Skull authors, herewith some out-takes and the links to the whole shebangs.
I wanted to be the best Greek novelist. An Interview with Robert Newman
One book you wish you had written, and why?
I most often wish to have written Anne Tyler novels, simply because of the person I would have to be and the life I would have to have been living to have written them. To have written her novels I would have had to have become be an understanding, sociable, loving, interested, observant, thoughtful, connected, in-the-moment person who took life seriously in all its manifestations be they never so humble. She makes you feel that to write well is to live well. More than be able to write well, I would like to be able to live well like that and understand well like that and to be that kind of soul.
If there's one novel though that would be Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex a) because it's the best novel for decades and b) because I wanted to be the best Greek novelist.
Which painting, or other piece of art, best describes you?
I can't think what visual art describes me, but I can tell you my favourite. Is that any good to you? My favourite piece of visual art is the slapstick routine performed by Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin when they are both well into their sixties. The routine is at the end of the indifferent melodrama Limelight. Then suddenly, the two masters onstage together. Buster is playing piano and Chaplin is playing violin. Well, that's the plan. It's funny and moving. This is the last hurrah of two all-time geniuses. And the sketch is full of loads of surprises as if they are just inventing slapstick there and then, loads of gags and twists you have never seen before. They are performing to an audience who are really above this kind of comedy, and so there is an embattled dignity about the two men who are dressed for concert rectial in stuffed and padded tuxedos.
What are you working on at the moment?
I’m working on a few things. A novel called Collide-O-Scope that involves a United States city under siege by a right wing government in the near future. A series of books with visual artist Jadina Lilien—the one we are working on now is an illustrated rock opera. A graphic poem with the artist Scott Gillis that is a mix of my experiences as a medic at the World Trade Center attack, the history of Afghanistan, and the early days of aviation. And a musical theater piece with Mabou Mines called Song for New York, for which I am the Manhattan poet. I also just finished a screenplay called Swirl with my writing partner Felicity Seidel.
Do you listen to music as you write?
Once in a while, depending on what I’m writing.
If so, what?
Greek gangster music from the 1920s. I like it because I can’t understand the words, so I imagine that they mean all sorts of great things.
In the spirit of a liberal interpretation of Fair Use, I am reposting an entire posting from the blog Conchology (in part because he rightly permits himself to quote an entire poem from Jennifer Knox's A Gringo Like Me. Read on—it's a thrill to see a poem like "Chicken Bucket" read so judiciously...
First it's not because Erasmus was born with the name Gerrit Gerritszoon. Which he totally was. "Jennifer Knox" does not sound like "Gerrit Gerritszoon."
It's because Jennifer El Knox writes mean poems. Or apparently mean ones. Here is her poem "Chicken Bucket." If this is totally not fair use please let me know.
Chicken Bucket
Today I turn thirteen and quit the 4-H club for good.
I smoke way too much pot for that shit.
Besides, Mama lost the rabbit and both legs
from the hip down in Vegas.
What am I supposed to do? Pretend to have a rabbit?
Bring an empty cage to the fair and say,
His name's REO Speedwagon and he weighs eight pounds ?
My teacher, Mr. Ortiz says, I'll miss you, Cassie,
then he gives me a dime of free crank and we have sex.
I do up the crank with Mama and her boyfriend, Rick.
She throws me the keys to her wheelchair and says,
Baby, go get us a chicken bucket.
So I go and get us a chicken bucket.
On the way back to the trailer, I stop at Hardy's liquor store.
I don't want to look like a dork
carrying a chicken bucket into the store—
and even though Mama always says
Never leave chicken where someone could steal it—
I wrap my jacket around it and hide it
under the wheelchair in the parking lot.
I've got a fake ID says my name's Sherry and I'm 22,
so I pick up a gallon of Montezuma Tequila,
a box of Whip-Its and four pornos.
Mama says, That Jerry Butler's got a real wide dick.
But the whole time I'm in line, I'm thinking,
Please God let the chicken bucket be OK.
Please God let the chicken bucket be OK.
Please God let the chicken bucket be OK.
The guy behind me's wearing a T-shirt
that says, Mustache Rides 10¢.
So I say, All I got's a nickel.
He says, You're cute,
so we go out to his van and have sex.
His dick's OK, but I've seen wider.
We drink most of the tequila and I ask him,
Want a Whip-It?
He says, Fuck no—that shit rots your brain.
And when he says that, I feel kind of stupid
doing another one. But then I remember
what mama always told me:
Baby be your own person.
Well fuck yes.
So I do another Whip-It,
all by myself and it is great.
Suddenly it hits me—
Oh shit! the chicken bucket!
Sure enough, it's gone.
Mama's going to kill me.
Those motherfuckers even took my jacket.
I can't buy a new chicken bucket
because I spent all the money at Hardy's.
So I go back to the trailer, crouch outside
behind a bush, do all the Whip-Its,
puke on myself, roll in the dirt,
and throw open the screen door like a big empty wind.
Mama! Some Mexicans jumped me!
They got the chicken bucket,
plus the rest of the money!
I look around the trailer.
Someone's taken all my old stuffed animals
and Barbies and torn them to pieces.
Fluff and arms and heads are all over the place.
I say someone did it,
but the only person around is Rick.
Mama is nowhere to be seen.
He cracks open another beer and says,
What chicken bucket?
Well, that was a long a time ago.
Rick and I got married
and we live in a trailer in Boron.
We don't live in a trailer park though—
in fact there's not another house around
for miles. But the baby keeps me
company. Rick says I'm becoming
quite a woman, and he's going to let Mama know that
if we ever see her again.
__________________________________________-
"Chicken Bucket" takes me back to Erasmus's _Moriae Encomium_, The
Praise of Folly, 1511 them were the days. My students and I read parts
of it last sem. It was cool. In one way it's a very mean book: making
serious unending fun of fat people, stupid people, etc. The speaker is
"Folly" who says stuff like "and the merchants are the most foolish of
all" -- so it's like folly is praising all these people but doing so
from an inverted perspective. A lot of it is against church folk etc and
movers and shakers, but a lot of it is making fun of little folk too. He
says that all children are the product of madness and oblivion.
And tho E doesn't "say" this in the book, the thing that
shines thru -- and the thing that makes it a really amazing read -- is
even tho this is a wholesale condemnation of all of society and its
actors, there is also conveyed this sense of *weird admiration for the
Energy* of the people. Even tho everyone is a fool, they have admirable
energy -- and it DOES turn into a kind of denigrative encomium. At the
very end is a kind of coda, tho, in which E finally puts forward a grounding clavis, a key to good
xtian values. "So much better are
things spiritual than things corporeal, and things invisible than things
visible," he finally says toward the end, among other things, but then
returns to a kind of "positive dissing" by praising madness and
witlessness at the book's close.
There is a way, I think, where the denigration can be so wholesale,
mean, and scathing that one gets a sense that that wand of ire cd easily
be turned on (a) anyone in the audience, and (b) the poet herself. And
that's redemptive. That's the redemptive hint -- the hint that we are
all damned together, we are all fools together, even the least of us.
This is what menippean satire does: it's absolutely chaotic, destroying even those who are "lesser." There are 2 kinds of satire: (1) where a select group is being destroyed on behalf of something that is being conserved, (2) where everything is being destroyed. This latter is called menippean satire or chaotic satire. If we look at Knox's poem from teh standpoit of (1), we think "she's dissing the poor, so she must be conserving the rich," but if we look at it as (2), we think "she's dissing hte poor now but she'll also diss the rich later."
If we see it as (2), which I do, then Jenn Knox's "chicken Bucket" cd only happen in an era of great openness and understanding, in a loosening, in an era that *starts out* knowing that *the "least of us" is also dignified enough to be picked on*.
The poem seems to be saying, "yuh okay this pathetic person is trapped but despite that she's also in love (yes with a twit) but she's still thinking of her mother, she's still invested in it all even if what's she's invested in is really degraded" -- and that's positive, even tho she's in Boron, a town that sounds like moron --
and too the trailer girl is speaking directly to "us," those of us not in Boron, which itself means her voice is traveling far (a positive thing).
I can give Knox that credit -- because the details ARE so carefully observed: it's the act of observation that bespeaks a kind of patience and care, even if what's observed is then gathered into an insult or caricature. It is not, I sense (or credit), a real insult but a ritualized one -- and it's instructive, it reminds us of the fact that we too are busting into the trailer to look at someone's fat little titties - taking us a notch lower too because now we're voyeurs. Watching a soap opera with fascination is not something to be proud of.