The New York Stories Blog Tour

It's Monday. It's Ben Tanzer. It's Laura Szumowski. It's the CCLaP blog tour celebrating both of these talented individuals and their one-two-punch literary combo "The New York Stories". And it's happening right here, right now. At this very moment.


I have been a long-time fan of the Tanzer-man, and he's been a vocal supporter of TNBBC and multiple-time participant in our wacky - and seemingly never-ending - blog features. Not only is he an extremely talented writer, but also completely and seriously huggable! Whenever there is an opportunity for me to spread the love, I'm all over it.


Now, I didn't know how I was going to pull off an equally gushy intro to Laura, since I haven't had any previous interactions with her. But (1) she's part of the CCLaP family and (2) she's the illustrator for The New York Stories - which combines two of Ben's short story eBook collections (2008's Repetition Patterns and 2011's So Different Now) into one gorgeous handmade, faux-suede covered book that displays 30 of Laura's illustrations, six of those in full color. That is more than enough to gush about!


On top of that... she and Ben both submitted video entries into our Where Writers Write series. These videos could not be any different from each other and yet they are both so absolutely incredible. Take a few minutes and steal a peek into the work spaces of Ben Tanzer and Laura Szumowski as they show us where the magic happens:

Where Ben Tanzer Writes

There is kitchen table. And not much else. A laptop. A painting my father did of my younger brother and I when we were the age my kids are now. Floor to ceiling windows. An alley. Chicago. A cup of coffee certainly.


It is a public space. We all share it. The family and I. But when the children and wife are asleep, and during those times when they are actually out of the house, it is where I write. I also write in hotels and planes and airports when I travel for work. The office. Coffee shops. "L" trains. My mom's apartment, my in-laws home, and my brother's house.


I write where and when I can. But mostly at home. All I ask is that no one talk to me while I'm writing. Well that, and the permission to fantasize about that place I will someday go to write when I have all kinds of time to write and a separate space to do so. I don't know that I will be more productive in this imaginary place or even somehow tap into some vein of creativity I have otherwise yet to unearth.


It represents something though. Something different. Somewhere new. It also means I will have figured something out, even if I'm not sure yet what that means.

Where Laura Szumowski Illustrates

My absolute favorite place to be is at my drawing table, working on a project with the windows open. Both of my work areas are near large windows-- this is a really important aspect, and I've always selected apartments based on three things: windows, natural lighting, and trees. I live across from a park, on a quiet side street. I love the feeling of being in the city with everything nearby, while simultaneously feeling as though I could be anywhere. Having trees outside my windows is essential, because it's calming and helps me focus. Natural lighting goes without saying-- it's the best light to draw by.

I mentioned New Wave, but it could be any coffee shop. Getting out of the house, to a place with few distractions, is the best way to work through the tough, preliminary parts of a project. Plus, I can get myself a treat if I'm feel a little under-motivated. A lot of research goes into my books, and while much of it is fascinating, it can be a lot to muck through.

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

If you are interested in learning more about Ben and Laura, check out the many blog tour stops prior to mine:

Friday, 6/15: Mourning Goats

Monday, 6/18: Caleb Ross

Tuesday, 6/19: Patricia Ann McNair

Wednesday, 6/20: Pete Anderson

Thursday, 6/21: Burrow Press

Friday, 6/22: Baby Got Books

Monday, 6/25: Mel Bosworth

Tuesday, 6/26: Ryan Bradley

Wednesday, 6/27: Curbside Splendor

Thursday, 6/28: Cort Bledsoe

Friday, 6/29: Another Chicago Magazine

You can also find more info on The New York Stories, Ben Tanzer, and Laura Szumowski at the following blogs in the next few days:

Tuesday, 7/3: Dead End Follies

Wednesday, 7/4: WordPlaySound

Thursday, 7/5: Artifice Magazine

Book Giveaway: Threats and My Only Wife

Since July 2010, TNBBC has been bringing authors and readers together every month to get behind the book! This unique experience wouldn't be possible without the generous donations of the authors and publishers involved. 

I am beyond thrilled to be able to bring you next month's Author/Reader Discussion!

This one is a dual discussion featuring 

Ameila Gray and Jac Jemc

and will be taking place in TNBBC in August!!

In order to stimulate discussion, 

Amelia and Jac's publishing companies have agreed to give away

10 copies EACH - to US residents only.

(sorry, international folks!)

This is a one-of-a-kind event! TNBBC has never hosted a dual discussion before!

You don't want to miss out on this one... Trust me.

Here are the Goodreads descriptions of the books:

Threats:

David’s wife is dead. At least, he thinks she’s dead. But he can’t figure out what killed her or why she had to die, and his efforts to sort out what’s happened have been interrupted by his discovery of a series of elaborate and escalating threats hidden in strange places around his home. These disturbing threats may be the best clues to his wife’s death. With no one to trust, David is forced to rely on his own memories and faculties—but they too are proving unreliable. 

My Only Wife:

Ten years ago the narrator unlocked the door of a wrecked apartment, empty of any trace of his wife. As stunning as her disappearance is his response. He freezes on the facts of her, haunting his recollections. This is the story of a man unable to free himself enough from the idea of a woman to try to find her. 

This giveaway will run through July 8th.
Winners will receive one copy of each book and will be notified here and via email on June 9th.

Here's how to enter:

1 - Leave a comment stating why you would like to win the copies.

2 - State that you agree to participate in the group read book discussion that will run from August 15th through the end of the month. Amelia Gray and Jac Jemc have agreed to participate in the discussion and will be available to answer any questions you may have for them. 

 *If you are chosen as a winner, by accepting the copy you are agreeing to read the book and join the group discussion at TNBBC on Goodreads (the thread for the discussion will be emailed to you before the discussion begins). 

 3 - Your comment must have a way to contact you (email is preferred). AND you must be a resident of the US!!!!

Good luck!

Indie Book Buzz: Archipelago Books

It's a great day for some Indie Book Buzz here at TNBBC. This series has been on hiatus for a bit but Archipelago Books is helping to rekindle it! I can think of no better way for members of the indie publishing houses to share which of their upcoming 2012 releases they are most excited about! 

This week's pick comes from Eric Dean Wilson, 

Assistant Editor for Archipelago Books

PREHISTORIC TIMES by Eric Chevillard
Translated from the French by Alyson Waters
Publication date: July 10 

What it's about:
The narrator of Prehistoric Times, an archeologist by trade, embodies at once the cartoonishly absurd and gravely human qualities of a tour guide. Due to a severe knee injury while falling from a cliff on the job, the narrator is appointed as both guide and guardian of the Pales caves, which hold Neolithic cave paintings of debatable importance to the history of civilization. We soon discover, however, that he is one of a seemingly infinite line in the position who have since passed their life, uniform, and house to the next guide. In a covert display of what is means to be human or even vaguely humanoid, the narrator delays the point of his discussion in a dizzying array of tangents and diverging thoughts which lead to the inevitable question of history: what is man, and what is his legacy?


Why you should read it:
Eric Chevillard captures, in a way that French absurdists only can, a tone of grim comedy and peculiar mortality. Not only is Prehistoric Times a swift, ride-of-a-read, it packs a tough punch in its thoughts on the span of recorded human history. In our narcissistic age, and in an age particularly attuned to criticism and interpretation, it's easy for us to become stuck in the groove of a certain mode of looking at art, at writing, or at any form of communication. The humbling truth is that, when our civilization as we know it disappears, the meaning of the monuments left for the next culture will be entirely out of our hands. But--let me assure you--this book does not drag with the weight of its heavy questions on humankind. It skips and jumps, making it all the more curious.

Eric Dean Wilson is the Assistant Editor for Archipelago Books, a non-profit publisher of classic and contemporary world literature in translation in Brooklyn. He is the co-author (with dancer Tavia Grace Odinak) of Meat Game, a performance piece about Queen Victoria, femininity, and pork ribs. His own essays and poetry have appeared in Ninth Letter, Seneca Review, River Teeth, and Third Coast, among others. In his spare time, he is the producer of the forthcoming web comedy series "Meet Norma St. Cleod" -- a selection for the 2012 International Television Festival in L.A. -- due in September. He is also, at times, a performer, bartender, and lover of ancient Roman poetry.

Where Writers Write: David Maine

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 some of TNBBC's favorite authors roll up their sleeves and make the magic happens.

This is David Maine. David is the author of Fallen; The Preservationist; The Book of Samson (three fantastic fictional accounts of biblical events); Monster, 1959 (a campy rompy nod towards the good ole 50's sci-fi/horror movies); The Gamble of the Godless (a straight to ebook fantasy novel); and the upcoming An Age of Madness, which will be released in September by Red Hen Press.

David and I met quite a few years back, and we always find fun and creative ways to work together - including this blog tour I developed and hosted for him back in August of 2011 where David throws in his two cents on the whole "indie" thing. 

Today, I get to show off David's writing space! Folks, this is where the Maine Madness happens....

Where David Maine Writes

My writing space these days is fairly modest. I used to have a whole room to use as a studio, and I hope to have that again one day soon. But life in Hawaii has been pretty cramped, and this 6 x 10 partition of my bedroom has been pretty much what I’ve had to work with for the past couple of years.

Ultimately, my needs are fairly simple: a comfortable chair to slouch in with a notebook; some sort of platform for my laptop; some shelves for a few inspiring books; a desk to accommodate the clutter. Bonus points are awarded for windows that look out on something green and an overall sense of solitude and calm. (Which is, by far, the most difficult of these elements to find.)

A couple things that accompany me into this space. Coffee sits on the table beside me from mid-morning to late afternoon. Music is there, especially in the afternoons, and generally of the space-out trance-inducing variety—Tinariwen, Mazzy Star, Speck Mountain, low-key reggae like the Nazarenes, African kora music and so forth. Nothing too raucous or attention-grabbing, and definitely no hip-hop. (Listening to other people’s words makes it difficult to concentrate on my own.) And I like to keep copies of my books nearby, mainly as a reminder that this whole write-something-that’s-worth-reading enterprise isn’t as crazy as it often feels.

I’ve been fortunate to live in many different places, in varying degrees of financial comfort. Whether the accompanying spaces have been large or small, private or shared, I think the important thing is for me to make peace with the surrounding environment so that I can then forget about it. After all, writing is about creating other worlds and living in them, so I try not to get too terribly caught up in the nuts and bolts of what surrounds me.

Check back next week to see where J.A. Tyler is inspired to write. 

Indie Spotlight: Anne Marie Ruff

What happens when a journalist takes her personal experience with researching how our health is tied to the health of the environment and puts it into writing?

Anne Marie Ruff calls it "fact-based fiction".

In the below spotlight, Ruff explains how her debut novel Through These Veins, which has been referred to as "a character-oriented Constant Gardener set in the world of AIDS/HIV research featureing two strong women in pursuit of a long-awaited cure", came to be:

I call myself a recovering journalist these days, and I call my novel, Through These Veins, fact-based fiction.  Here is how the story opens: In the coffee-growing highlands of Ethiopia, an Italian scientist on a plant collecting expedition discovers a local medicine man dispensing an apparent cure for AIDS.

Fact or fiction?

The specifics of this particular situation are a fiction. But the story that unfurls from this fiction is studded with facts, real scientists, and events mirroring real life situations.  I gathered my sources and research for this novel at first unknowingly, while I worked as a journalist based in Bangkok, Thailandand then in Abu Dhabi, the capital of the United Arab Emirates.  Later, once I had the idea for a novel, I sought out more research for the novel, under the guise of journalism. 

I didn’t set out to write fiction, which seems so contrary to the ‘just the facts ma’am’ axiom we associate with journalism.  My intention was to shine a light on unreported or underreported environmental stories. The medical reporting I did was not really my passion, as much as a byproduct of living in Bangkok; a hub for HIV/AIDS research and activism. After a year of telling gloom and doom stories about the destruction of forests, or coral reefs, or traditional agricultural varieties, I felt like even I was becoming desensitized to my deeply held belief that our collective health is inextricably linked to the health of our environment.

When, in the course of my reporting, I met a charismatic Italian scientist who approached plant collecting and conservation as if it were an adventure worthy of Indiana Jones. I had a shazaam moment. He ignited an idea for a new approach, a fictional story centered on a character like him. He could carry readers around the world, and inspire in others the passion he felt for the richness of life on the planet. He could articulate the imperative to conserve it for the health and well being of this and future generations.

I met this man, Stefano Padulosi, in Malaysia at a scientific conference focused on agricultural biodiversity and the promotion of traditional and medicinal crop plants. I interviewed Stefano about his work, and he told me adventure stories about traveling across a dozen African countries in search of…hold your breath here…unusual varieties of beans.

The beans seemed like a sideshow to me, but I knew I had to hear more about Stefano. During the conference he had told me that he was planning a trip to Turkmenistana few months later to study – what was at the time – the world’s largest collection of pomegranate varieties. So a week after the conference, I asked him if I could join the expedition to the mountain orchards of Turkmenistan. He said yes. Three months later I was there, peppering my notes for magazine stories with little tidbits about Stefano’s character.

But I needed more drama to make a compelling narrative.

As I worked on outlining my fictional story, my reporting on drug development and HIV/AIDS revealed itself as not only relevant, but integral to my story about the value of biodiversity, and one of its prime values as a source of medicines.  

I spent the next several years continuing my research and finally writing and revising (and revising and revising) the novel.

I contacted Stefano three years ago, nine years after the trip to Turkmenistan, letting him know what I had been writing. I was apprehensive that he could have felt somehow manipulated. But just like my character, the real Stefano has a more expansive heart than that. I was delighted at his effusive response to my email that I had written a novel that included him. He replied “The idea of the novel sounds fantastic!” I got goose bumps when I read the word fantastic, since my fictional Stefano uses the word frequently in the story. So I figured I had remembered his character accurately. Though of course, the fictional Stefano Geotti makes a lot of questionable decisions that cannot in any way be attributed to the non-fictional Stefano Padulosi. Even after reading the full draft (he said he translated much of it into Italian, so his mother could also know the book) he was still enthusiastic about the story – though pained at what some of his fictional version had to endure.

I am grateful for that conference in Malaysia and the chance meeting with Stefano, for it allowed me to marry my different reporting interests and use everything I learned and more in a novel way.  So facts support my fiction, and hopefully, my fiction will serve the facts.

All profits from the sale of Through These Veins are distributed to the Campaign for Access to Essential Medicines of Médecins Sans Frontières/Doctors Without Borders and the Institute of Biodiversity Conservation in Ethiopia.


Anne Marie Ruff has reported on AIDS research, drug development, biodiversity conservation, and agriculture from Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and East Africa. Her work has been broadcast by National Public Radio, Public Radio International, the British Broadcasting Corporation, and PBS TV. Her articles have appeared in Time, Christian Science Monitor, and Saveur among other publications.

Anne Marie and her publicist have agreed to giveaway one copy of 

Through These Veins 

to our readers.  

The giveaway is opened internationally!

(US/Canada winner will get - paperback)

(International winner will get- PDF)

If you are interested in winning a copy of this book:

1 - Leave a comment stating why you would like to win a copy.

2 - Agree to post a review on goodreads and Amazon after you have read the book.

3 - Your comment must have a way to contact you (email is preferred). AND you must state which country you are in. 

The winner will be chosen on June 30th 

and notified here and through email. 

Good luck!

Where Writers Write: Kathe Koja

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 some of TNBBC's favorite authors roll up their sleeves and make the magic happens.

Photo by Rick Lieder

This is Kathe Koja, writer and Detroit native.  She has written 15 books including THE CIPHER, SKIN, BUDDHA BOY, TALK, HEADLONG, UNDER THE POPPY - which I recently reviewed and loved! - and its sequel, THE MERCURY WALTZ (forthcoming in 2013). UNDER THE POPPY has been adapted for immersive performance. 

Kathe, as you will see below, has acquired many writing spaces that influence her and her stories. Come, take a peek...

Where Kathe Writes : The Appropriate Landscape 

Where do I write? Many places.

In Detroit, a city like no other city, alive to its own struggle, a landscape historic and beautifully fierce.

At my desk, an old-school schoolteacher's desk, seven drawers, two pull-out leaves, scratched golden varnish, nearly a lifetime's worth of work produced here - this desk and I have been together since I was eleven years old. When I'm here, with research books, research piles, and the all-important scraps of paper, my mind knows that I'm home, and ready to work. Music's playing, always, on an iPod, the playlist chosen to suit whatever's being written, to energize it and goose it into the world.

In a visualized past, a dark and passionate Victorian world of true love and foul deeds, upon which modernity is encroaching, as modernity will; a heartbreak brothel, an opulent townhouse, Under the Poppy which itself encroaches on modernity, finding itself remade by actors as the story is remade, rewritten, in lines of dialogue and notebook scratchings. 

In new venues all the time, this time a garden folly, a landscape of gorgeous green where a modern fable, aided by Elizabethans and scored with a tango, will make its debut as a commissioned piece later this year.

Where do I write? At the desk and keyboard. In a spiral notebook. Listening to actors speak. Watching the sun find its way into another day, or out of it. Everywhere my eyes see and my brain goes, grateful for every turn on the way.  

Be sure to check back next week when we discover where the magic happens for author David Maine!

Audioreview: No Lease on Life

Listened 5/29/12 - 6/15/12
4 Stars - Strongly Recommended to lovers of the cynical and insomniacial
Audio Download (approx 5 hrs)
Publisher: Iambik Audio / Cursor, Red Lemonade

I have been Elizabeth. Not in NYC, but in the Pocono's. In a gated development, on a quarter acre of land, in a house on a street that is draped in trees. Most developments are gated to keep the riff-raff out. Mine, we joke, is gated to keep the riff-raff in.

The outer walls of my home are extremely thin. I lie in bed at night, the night before a work-day, tossing and turning and stuffing my head beneath my pillow as my neighbor cranks out his Latin music. They are having a party. It's a Saturday night. I have to be up at 3:30am tomorrow morning for work.

It's 10:30pm, now it's 11:00, now it's 11:30pm, and I can still hear the bass beating through the wall behind my headboard. Dum, Dum, DumDumDum, Dum, Dum, DumDumDum. I can't even close the window to lessen the noise because it's already shut. Not only can't I sleep because of the music, but I'm also sweating my ass off because the window is closed.

I start tossing and turning across the bed. I kick at the sheets piled across the bottom of the bed. I stare up at the ceiling and swear I can see it pulsing to the beat of my asshole neighbor's music. Doesn't he know that we have a noise curfew? Of course he knows, he's lived here longer than I have. He doesn't care. He just wants to party. He thinks everyone else wants to hear his party. I bet he's one of those creeps who sits in a parking lot cranking his music with the car windows down, so everyone can hear the bass beat of his latin music when they walk in and out of the store.

Why doesn't anyone else tell him to turn down the music? Maybe he's invited all of the other neighbor's to his party so they won't complain. They aren't trying to sleep like I am because they are all swigging down beers and dancing to the Dum, Dum, DumDumDum of his latin beats while I am sweating all over my bed sheets watching the clock count down to midnight. Watching the digital minutes creep closer and closer to 3:30am. Practically becoming the time at which my alarm will go off right before my eyes. I am watching every minute pass me by.

I am restless. I am exhausted. I am envisioning myself throwing a robe over my wife-beater and boy shorts. Walking out my bedroom. Down the stairs, through the living room. Out the front door. Across my side yard into theirs. Up their front steps. Balling my hand into a fist. Pounding that fist against their door. Holding the fist tightly as they open the door. Watching that fist shoot out across the threshold. Punching them in their loud-music-playing face. Watching the blood blossom from their lip. or nose. I was never a good shot. 

It takes everything to not scream. I can feel my heart racing. I am tossing and turning and burying my head beneath the pillow. I can feel the scream sitting in my throat. Patient. Waiting to be released. And just when I open my mouth to let it out, the music stops. I hold my breath. I take the pillow off my head. I turn my ear towards the thin wall behind my bed. It's quiet. I let my breath out. Should I trust it? Is it over?

I lay flat with my pillow behind my head. I look at the ceiling and my body begins to quiet. I breathe in again.

Dum, Dum, Dum, DumDum, Dum Dum Dum, DumDum... That asshole was just switching CD's. It's 12:30pm. I have to be awake in three hours. I lean over and reach for the phone. I call security. I tell them I cannot sleep. I tell them I might go crazy and kill the neighbors unless they send someone to tell them to turn the music down. I hang up the phone. I put the pillow over my head again.

And I toss and turn and sweat and swallow the scream that wants to come out.

Where Writers Write: Alan Heathcock

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 some of TNBBC's favorite authors roll up their sleeves and make the magic happens.

This is Alan Heathcock. He is the author VOLT, an award winning collection of interconnected short stories that take place in the fictitious town of Krafton. He was featured as part of our Author/Reader Discussion series on TNBBC back in October. He also appeared here on the blog at the end of year, offering up his top three reads of 2011. 

Alan never hesitates to answer the call for my willy-nilly author series, and this month was no different. I am so incredibly excited to share the following video with you.... and so grateful to Alan for the obvious time and effort that was put into it!!!

Where Alan Writes

My writing studio is a 1967 Roadrunner travel trailer that for most of its life was an Idaho State Police surveillance vehicle, and is now packed with books and trophies and random oddities–in style, it’s urban-redneck-gypsy-writer chic. Having a wife and three kids, it’s perfect in that I can actually leave the house to go to work, to be out of earshot, to be away from someone asking me to open something or find something or wipe something, but also be close enough to come in to have lunch with the family, and get wifi from the house. 

Inside, there’s old beautiful wood paneling, which smells like woods and feels like wood and feels cozy and connects me with the past. With my wife’s help, I took pages from my favorite books and decoupaged them over the kitchenette area, so every time I get a drink of water, or heat up some tea, Hemingway and Joyce and James Dickey and Joyce Carol Oates stare me right in the face, daring me to bring my A-game. I’ve hung framed letters I received from authors I admire, my prize being a type-written letter Joy Williams wrote me after she’d read my book. 

Another favorite piece is a picture of “The Preacher” from the Charles Laughton movie, The Night of the Hunter. The Preacher hangs over my head, glowering down over me, H-A-T-E tattooed across one hand, L-O-V-E across the other, him always watching, always making sure I’m writing what’s right and righteous. In short, the VOLT-mobile (what my kids call it) is a magical place, a space that transports me from my side-driveway and deep into the recesses of my imagination, into all its fear and whimsy, its questions and concerns.

Check back next week to see where the magic happens for Under the Poppy author Kathe Koja!!

Breaking Down BEA: Tales of a Triple Timer

My first BEA I was so green around the gills that I missed all the fun.

Last year, when I got home from BEA, I went overboard recapping the event. From my BEA Blues post - which I think is still incredibly relevant and deserves a peek if you haven't seen it yet - to individual posts on  networking and namedropping, and publisher events, (yawn)....

I promise not to put you through all of that again - it's ok, breathe deep, I know you're relieved! But what I will do is touch on some of the most memorable moments of this past week in one big honking post. Because, you know, no one experiences BEA the same way... no one! And I totally want to tell the tales of my triple time...

By the way, these are in no particular order. At best, I'm listing them in the order in which they took place, sort of:

* Driving into and out the city every day with Tara (booksexyreview). Why yes, we are glutton for punishment! By the end of the week, we were functioning on only a few hours of sleep, lots of caffeine from our early morning mocha lattes, and our sometimes cranky but always entertaining deconstruction of the day's events. It was lovely to have a passenger this year - the previous two years I had driven in with me, myself, and I - and as much as I love myself, I was so grateful for the company! She mommy'd me, I kept her out past her bedtime... we were each other's side kicks throughout all of BEA, and I wouldn't change it for the world! It's that comfortable silence and knowing at a glance when to leave each other the hell alone that made us realize we were totally rocking it this year!

Me, Ben, David, Jason

*Attending the CCLaP readings at the KGB Lit Bar the night before BEA officially began. This was my most-looked-forward-to event of BEA week. CCLaP is based out of Chicago and never, ever, sends their authors out this far east, so there was no way I was missing it. I reunited with Ben Tanzer (to my immediate left in the photo) and finally met the ever intriguing David David Katzman (in the cool ass shirt holding the beer) and Jason Pettus, founder of the small press (hiding in the back). It was a night of stupendous readings, many of which I will be uploading to youtube as soon as I find the time. Keep your eye out for those, I guarantee you will be googling the site and downloading the books as soon as you hear the authors reading from them! If you missed the event (which I pimped on twitter like a rabid person), for shame!

Jenn and me

* Meeting Jenn (Picky_Girl) and Susie (Insatiable Booksluts) in person. So one of the highlights of any BEA for me has always been meeting the bloggers I've come to know and love online. I've been following both Jenn and Susie now for the better part of the past year and was thrilled to hear they were both headed to BEA. Jenn met Tara and I at the fountain in Bryant Park an hour before the Uncon kicked off Monday morning. She was as sweet and southern as I imagined she would be, and we became fast BEA friends - from discussing our thoughts at the Uncon, to connecting on the BEA showroom floor, to breakfasting together at the Random House #powerreader event and stealing a lunch at Javits between signings.

me, Tara, and Susie

Susie was the IBBA winner for Adult Fiction, and even though she kicked my ass in the contest, I was beyond thrilled because that meant I could meet her and be all "indies rock" and "long live the indie". We snuck an early dinner before the CCLaP event on Sunday, and then also had some chill-out time at the Consortium Books #indieview cocktail party Monday evening. She was a bit shy to start but quickly warmed up to us over tuna melts and meatloaf sandwiches, dishing on our current reads, schooling each other on our favorite authors, and just being our bookishly wonderful selves.


* Reuniting with Bookish friends near and far. In this list, I include the lovely Marisa of Graywolf, Erica of Harper Perennial, Amy of Amy Reads, Alix of Romance Book Forum, Jessica of Swift Ink Editor, and Rachel of A Home Between Pages. Bookishly good times had with all, all parties and hang outs, and eats, and chats. BEA is the only time I get to see them all, and I always feel like I am scrambling to spend time with them but the time I do get is always amazing.

Sky Ice's Chocolate Lava Cake..yum

* Nana's and Sky Ice in Brooklyn. OK, funny story so bare with me. Tuesday night was the one night Tara and I weren't double or tripled booked with parties for the evening and we ran off to Brooklyn with Amy (Amyreads) and Alix (Romance Book Forum) to have ourselves a sit-down-and-enjoy-ourselves dinner. We decided on Nana's - which I believe is a Japanese restaurant. All I know is that nothing on the menu made any sense to me, and while I'm not afraid to try new things, I did need help from the ladies and the staff to order something semi-familiar. (I was also the only one at the table who had to request a fork, because, no, I have not yet mastered the skill of chopsticks. Stop laughing at me.) I ended up with Tangerine Steak Stir Fry -or something to that effect. It was delish: thin strips of steak in a sweet sauce with rice and red and green bell peppers. So there I was, munching away, chit chatting with the girls, when all of a sudden I felt a gigantic fire burning a hole in my mouth! I went from completely normal to wanting to claw my mouth off of my face in zero point two seconds. Apparently, what I mistook for a slightly burnt piece of red bell pepper turned out to be an entire chili pepper which I had happily chewed and swallowed before realizing what I had done. While Tara, Amy, and Alix continued to eat and chat, I was holding cold water on my tongue and trying not to scream my head off. Every breath I took fanned the flames of my mouth. It was hell. Eventually, eons and eons later, the fire in my mouth calmed into subtle campfire ashes that would periodically rekindle as I bravely placed more food in my mouth, extremely careful to avoid all other chili peppers lying incognito in my meal, but willing to take the chance because my dinner was really good and I was really hungry. (throughout all of this, I am pretty sure some panicked tweets about my imminent death-by-chili-pepper went out...)

After the Nana's fire-fiasco, we headed over to Sky Ice, on Alix's recommendation. It was the strangest ice cream shop I had ever visited because it wasn't exactly ice cream, and it wasn't exactly italian ice. It was like the two had a baby and this weird mushy icy thing was the result. Alix was taste testing a few of the flavors. One tasted like ass, another tasted like a shot of rose perfume to the mouth. I played it straight and chose the chocolate lava cake with caramel sea salt ice cream. It made up for the hellish dinner I had just eaten. I burned and died and went to heaven all in the span of two hours.


* Breakfast of Champions. The most memorable moment of the Random House #powereaders breakfast has got to be the discussion Andrew Shaffer and I had about his upcoming release 50 Shames of Earl Grey. Only Andrew can make topics like "the shocker" and "tea bagging" seem almost natural at the breakfast table. Of all the authors I know I'll see at BEA, Andrew is the one I look forward to bumping into the most. Precisely for reasons like this.

* Richard Nash Big-Pimpin' Maidenhead. Richard Nash is a sweetheart. Anyone who meets him and thinks otherwise is simply not to be trusted. He's a shmoosher and sweet talker all the way. A hugger and kisser of cheeks. And I love the way he pimps me to the publishers whenever we are around one. But this one time, Richard turned the tables at the Couch House Books booth while we were deep in conversation with Ethan - their publicist - and pushed Maidenhead on me. For those of you not in the know, Maidenhead is Couch House's "smuty" novel of the year. Sex sells ever since 50 Shades broke loose, and everyone who's got something like it is letting you know! While I'm steering clear of the "mommy porn" scene, I did get a kick out of Richard demonstrating the clever little cover images they had used on the galley... subtle but not so (you'll understand once you see the back cover image, trust me).. if you know what I mean. The moment was truly priceless.





* Goodreads for the win. Due to a packed schedule on both my part and the part of Patrick Brown - Goodreads Community Manager - I managed to get an invite to their private shindig Wednesday evening for a quick meet-n-greet. Patrick and I were trying desperately (alright, most desperately on my part) to meet one another face to face all throughout BEA and the stars were just not aligning. Ok, so the invitation is extended and Tara and I go, and I find myself chatting the hour away with Otis (Founder of Goodreads) and Patrick about recommendations and ideas I have for their site, while Otis subtly questioned me on things like monetizing and beautifying TNBBC. It was all kinda silly and blurry - I'd had a beer or two by then - but I left feeling wonderful and full of the goodreads love. Patrick was adorable and lovely, and Otis sees all the things and knows all the things, and I enjoyed picking their brains. And if I said anything untoward or pushy, I blame it all on the beer.

Me and Jonathan Evison

* Couch Lounging with Jonathan Evison. I know how this is going to sound, but I really do love being me sometimes. Especially on nights like Wednesday night, at the PubDate party, chilling on the couch with Tara and Amanda (deadwhiteguys), when I spot Jonathan Evison walking around on his own holding two beers. I shout above the crazy loud music and call him over for a sit-and-chat and he beautifully obliges. ( I fan girled on him the day before at an impromptu run in where he so kindly signed his book and let me talk him up on All About Lulu and West of Here). Kicking back on the couch, we were BS'ing about his novels, torturing himself with dense classic literature, and how much he misses home but at the same time adores the attention the new book is getting. A class act of a guy in a cool hat and suit vest, Jonathan wins my author-of-BEA award.


* Canoodling with Graywolf and J. Robert Lennon. How anyone ever gets any productive discussions going under the bass and drum beat of club music is beyond me. But it happens, and I have proof of it. Up on the stage of the PubDate party space, drenched in red and blue lights, Marisa of Graywolf, J. Robert Lennon (author of Castle and Familiar), and I spent some time locked in conversation. Lennon and I discovered we have sons around the same age, the same soft spot for old school music-listening-apparatus, and an interest in hearing him read his own work. Perhaps some cool new TNBBC series was born this night? You will have to sit tight and wait, my friends... these lips will never tell...


And so goes my top 10 favorite memories of BEA 2012. What will the fourth year hold? God only knows but if it's following in the same footsteps of these past three years, it can only be greatness. I am already counting down the days....

Where Writers Write: C.G. Bauer

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 some of TNBBC's favorite authors roll up their sleeves and make the magic happens.

This is C.G. Bauer. He is the author of Scars on the Face of God, a powerfully chilling novel of what the power of religion can do to a small, poor town. And what faith, or the lack thereof, can do to each of it's inhabitants.

He first appeared here on TNBBC in an author interview in 2011. He and I have since kept in touch about his writing and I knew this series wouldn't be complete without inviting the Philadelphian to share his writing space. Come see...

Where C.G. Bauer Writes

It's a fourth bedroom used as an office that my wife wishes was really still a bedroom, unless the proceeds of my writing were to miraculously present us with a beach house on the water, at which point she'd maybe think of making a shrine out of it. (Ha. That's rich. She'd still want her fourth bedroom back.) 

It includes: 

• a leather sofa 
• a long, second-hand, mahogany corporate desk 
• a big screen iMac on said desk
• a massive black printer/copier/fax machine that looks garish crowding one edge of the desk (fax line not set up; again, too lazy)
• a sheathed middle eastern knife that I use as a paperweight, curved and ornate, with some Arabic language writing ("Die, heathen Yankee scum"?) on the blade, a gift from my well-travled son-in-law
• an oriental rug I inherited from my father which he bought in China and on which the dogs have peed. 

Against one wall are two bookcases filled with requisite writing reference manuals, novels I have yet to read, and unbound manuscript pages of critiques from my peer writing groups, also yet to be read. 

Wallhangings: 

• a baseball-themed clock
• a men's softball team photo circa 1990 that includes me, the greatest slow-pitch softball pitcher to have ever played the game, with my team and I all looking studly in our softball uniforms (shirts AND pants) paid for by our local sponsor, Huntington Gas Station and Service Center
• a photo-realism picture of the Penn State football team being led down W. College Avenue in University Park, PA, by the late Joe Paterno
• a Norman Rockwell print titled "Choosin' Up" showing 1930s kid baseball players
• a local artist's original pen and ink print called "A Grand, Final Gesture of Defiance" that shows a field mouse giving the finger to a bird of prey about to devour him
• and the most cherished wallhanging I have, a framed newspaper article written by my daughter regaling her small town readership about the crazy stories I used to tell her when she was a kid (stories that left her damaged, she says), which she presented to me on Father's Day some years back.

Now that I'm finished describing it I realize my writing space is very inspiring, these "thousand words" worth much more, to me at least, than a picture.

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

Check back next week to see where the magic happens for Alan Heathcock!!