Our bookstore!

Just the other day I met an author I've admired for a long while, Ann Packer, who wrote a lovely appreciation of the Capitola Book Cafe. Her essay appears in a newly released anthology, My Bookstore, in which more than 75 authors pen tributes to their favorite booksellers. Someone was kind enough to videotape the entire "Our Bookstore" presentation at the Book Cafe, highlighting the work of  several writers who spend lots of time at the Book Cafe, including me. As far as I know, it is the only video of me reading anything anywhere. Check in later this week -- I'll try to get that link up on the blog just as soon as I am able. And thank you for the latest round of messages about the "Shoebox Man" essay in P & W.  I appreciate each and every one of your emails.

Catamaran Literary Reader in the news!

Thanks to the generous readers who let me know about this lovely article about Catamaran in the Santa Cruz Patch and another one about Peggy Townsend's recent publishing triumph, as written by Christa Martin in the Santa Cruz Sentinel. And thanks for the kind mentions of my work in these stories.  I truly appreciate it.

He's your man: Leonard Cohen concert review, San Jose, California, November 7, 2012

"Old age isn't a battle: old age is a massacre."

So said Philip Roth, but Leonard Cohen is not about to concede defeat.

There was something graceful and defiant about that magisterial voice, the dancing, the sexual posturing.

 He made every song, even the ones that referred to the inevitability of death and decay, boom out through the HP Pavillion last night, and when he blessed the audience at the end, hoping for safety and peace for those with families, and those who found themselves alone, he added a lovely touch of high holidays to the proceedings. 

The man is 78, and he often referred to his advanced years in a funny, rueful way:

My friends are gone

And my hair is grey

I ache in the places where I used to play. 

And yet he addressed the audience, sang his songs and recited "A Thousand Kisses Deep" with such vigor and authority that I expected him keep going all night long.  When he announced, with apparent sadness in his voice, "we're running up against a curfew," it was 11:30 p.m., and he showed no sign of flagging.  "Lazy Bastard In A Suit"? Hardly. 

His set took the audience on a 45-year journey from the "Songs of Leonard Cohen"  in 1967 to his current status as the "poet laureate of pessimism." The set  included a stomping, jaw-harp-driven rendition of "Democracy," and a rendition of "Hallelujah" that left a woman sitting to the left of me in tears. And he didn't just sing these songs. He sang them while dancing, he sang them on his knees, he sang them with his hat to his chest. After watching him perform (but not in this order) "Dance Me To The End of Love,"  "In My Secret Life," "Famous Blue Raincoat," "Suzanne,"  "Sisters of Mercy," "Tower of Song," "The Future," "Bird on a Wire," Who By Fire," "I'm Your Man," "Everybody Knows" and several others, I kept expecting his focus to drift. Never happened, although it must be said that this intense performance left his vocals a little bit wobbly by the time he launched into the encore of "So Long Marianne" and the set closer, the Drifters' "Save the Last Dance For Me."  I find something so comforting in that impossibly low voice. Cohen must be aware of his oversize reputation, and he took the air out of it from time to time on purpose with his cheeky references to his "golden voice," and his gently sardonic response when the audience roared its approval for his hesitant, touch-type-style keyboard flourishes on "Tower of Song."

He's like that cool grandfather we all want to visit, the one who secludes himself for long stretches of time, then gives you all his attention when you finally see him, hands you souvenirs from his travels, and tells you only the best stories when you get together.  

And it looks like we might see him again very soon? 

"I suppose we will meet again sometime," said Cohen, who assured that he would "keep doing this" (touring the world) for at least a couple more years. 

Trick or ... TREAT!!!!

I started the evening, believing that everything was going to the dogs. Then the polls started perking up, and everything changed. Then I went to sleep believing Proposition 30 was going to the dogs. Then I woke up and was in for a big surprise. What a relief. It could just as easily have been a "TRICK."

Whew!

Enough said. Instead of emigrating to Canada, I am going to mark this grand occasion by going to a concert by a grand Canadian: the great Leonard Cohen, appearing tonight in San Jose. Actually attending the concert will be quite a logistical challenge for me, but I am going to do this by hook or crook ...

Memories of a hurricane: our Sandy-whacked New York City adventures

On this busy election day, I thought you might take a moment out of watching those polls (relentlessly, joylessly, fruitlessly) and take a look at this brief travelogue. The bottom line is, I got off extremely easy. No power loss in my part of the city, and no flooding. Yes, I saw some harrowing things -- gas rationing, traffic lights bopping and pitching in the gusts, awnings blowing down, and bits of brownstone falling off various buildings. But the bottom line is, I ended up in NYC for three additional unscheduled days, which is  kind of like throwing Br'er Rabbit in the briar patch. The hard part was knowing that a number of my friends were either in harm's way or undergoing severe hardships ranging from electrical outages to flooding and gas rationing.

Walking out of our temporary residence, we saw some scenes of devastation including downed trees in front of the American Museum of Natural History. In fact, there was so much tree-carnage that we could barely get from one place to the other, as you can see below.

We checked in on friends and colleagues to make sure we were OK. Unable to leave home for Santa Cruz in time for Halloween, we decided to improvise, making an on-the-spot costume for my daughter, J., and hitting the streets for some candy. Remarkably, most folks seemed enthusiastic about the holiday, even though they had every reason to hide out in their apartments and not answer the door.  We even stopped by Obama's headquarters for some Halloween candy, although, as you can see, the president was a bit too busy to go trick-or-treating with us on this particular day. He was calling people up, household by household, trying to get the vote, and had no time to partake of waxy fangs, lime Lifesavers, banana Laffy Taffy or any of that other nonsense.

Walking around New York City shortly after the storm, I noticed that many businesses were still closed, while quite a few die-hards (or at least a few die-hards located in some of the more mildly or lightly affected areas of the city) soldiered on and stayed open, including the Ding Dong Lounge, which posted this hopeful, rain-washed message in chalk outside its main entrance: it reads: "Ding Dong Lounge: You don't have to work tomorrow. Get drunk."

Tentatively exploring the city the next day, I ran headlong into that crazy scene with the giant crane hanging off the side of a building.(crane photo courtesy of ABC's online news site)

We finally left on Thursday. On the way to the airport, we saw a line on the Jersey side of the Lincoln Tunnel, the traffic backed up as long as I could see. Many of the cars had just a single passenger; without power in their homes, the drivers did not get the message about the three-passenger minimum, so many of those people must have gotten turned away at the tunnel. I also saw a ridiculously long gas line, going on for blocks and blocks and blocks, with a single nervous-looking police officer standing by at the pumps.

Hoping to return to New York very soon, under easier and happier circumstances for the city. It will be a long time before I forget the patience, calm and good humor of all the people we met during that strange and rainy week. And in case you are wondering, that is a poster of Obama, not Obama himself, lurking in the background of that photograph. (We did not actually get to meet him, nor was he in NYC on that particular night)

The Man in the Shoebox in Poets & Writers Magazine

hi everyone. I just wanted to say thank you very much for your thoughtful and encouraging responses to my "Shoebox" essay in the latest P & W (the one with Chris Ware's artwork on the cover.)  I guess I hit a nerve with this one? Anyways, I hope you continue to soldier on with your projects. There is every reason not to continue with your books and your stories -- every reason except for the fact that you want to write them, which is reason enough to keep plugging away as far as I'm concerned. And if you think a home-made desk-bound artifact will help keep you on task, you might consider making one for yourself. Remember, it doesn't have to be anything fancy to get the job done so get out those glue sticks and those cardboard boxes and shipping containers right now. By the way, there wasn't quite enough space in the article to list a few extra ingredients in my shoebox man recreation. I also used a generic knock-off version of Fun-Tak Reusable Adhesive, a swatch of discarded wallpaper and a bit of foam rubber for texture.

Tonight's big Catamaran party at the Salz Tannery

See you there? Read the story right here by the talented Wallace Baine.

Back from our Hurricane Sandy adventure

I couldn't have picked a more interesting time for our New York City family vacation. I will tell you all about it once my brain is a bit less fried from the entire experience. Stay tuned. Meanwhile I wanted you to know we are back in Santa Cruz -- it's pretty amazing that we got a flight out of Newark yesterday (many were cancelled all around us, and I felt terrible for the families who were waiting around, in some cases for days, to get out.) I have a longer report coming your way, but I just want to say that the New Yorkers were incredibly good-humored and patient during a difficult time for their city.

Ben Lerner's essay will change the way you watch and interpret the Presidential debates

Here is a brief excerpt from a wonderful essay that Ben Lerner wrote about his days as a smash-mouth high-school debater. As you will see, most of the text is behind the paywall. To read the whole thing, you will need to head off to your friendly indie bookstore and buy this issue of Harper's.  While this analytical and personal essay is not explicitly about the latest round of debates, you might wish that Lerner was up on the podium, giving grief to everyone involved,  including the moderator.  This essay is not short, but if you get in your car or cinch up your sneakers right now,  you will have time to reach your neighborhood bookstore, buy the magazine and a cup of coffee,  read and re-read this essay before Obama and Romney mix it up this evening.  If you remember from a couple of weeks ago, Ben Lerner is the author of Leaving The Atocha Station, and I am proud to say that I've got at least one of my Cactuseaters readers hooked on that book. You know who you are.

San Miguel and beyond: my interview with T.C. Boyle

I noticed that Andrew Goldman has a Q and A with T.C. Boyle in this week's New York Times Sunday Magazine. I spoke with T.C. Boyle a couple of months ago about his exploration of mankind's turbulent and strange relationship with the natural world. In light of the publicity for Boyle's new novel, San Miguel, and the launching of Catamaran this week, I am posting a brand-new edit of my previously posted podcast interview with Boyle. And here it is. You will find the podcast image and link about halfway down the page, which also includes detailed info about Catamaran's inaugural issue.

Video: Watch the first issue of Catamaran literary magazine getting printed out (while triumphant music plays in the background)

What does it take to publish a literary magazine? A group of hard-working editors, a whole bunch of talented contributors, lots of brainstorming sessions at the Salz Tannery in Santa Cruz, and a group of determined printers working with an enormous and complicated piece of machinery. In case you are curious, here is what it looked like when the first batch of them got printed up. Enjoy. Every time I watch this video and all those whirring, sorting, printing contraptions, Rube Goldberg comes to mind.

Please check your mailboxes over the next few days ...

... if you're a subscriber to Catamaran or if you are getting, for one reason or another, a complimentary issue. Your copy or copies should be arriving in the mail any day now. So if it doesn't arrive today, check again tomorrow. If not, Catamaran will be available in bookstores nationwide. And speaking of check again, I know that some of you weren't able to attend our reading last week. If that is the case, I just wanted to let you know that someone filmed the entire thing including the Q and A session at the end, and it should be uploaded at some point soon; I will let you know and will probably post the link here. Also, do me a favor and drive over to your local indie bookstore or to your Barnes & Noble or whatever you have in town and pick up the latest issue of Poets & Writers Magazine, which has a beautiful cover illustration by the great Chris Ware and a piece about the wonderful Louise Erdrich,  author most recently of the novel The Round House. I'm happy to report that this particular issue also includes a personal essay of mine, "The Man in the Shoebox," about an artifact that hangs on the wall to the right of my desk. In fact, it's hanging right above my keyboard as I type these words right now. At some point I really ought to take a picture of this artifact and upload it on the blog so you can see it. It is, truly, a conversation starter.

Martin Rees on extraterrestrial life, space travel and the fate of mankind

Martin Rees, the United Kingdom's Astronomer, gave a fascinating presentation incorporating billion years of cosmic history. This was truly one of the highlights of the fall season for me. Here's a little story I put together about it. Photos by Steve Kurtz.

Thank you for the great reading

hi everyone -- just wanted to let you all know that the reading went really well, and it was very heartening to see loved ones and pals who braved an unexpected, awful rainstorm and went up and over 'the hill' just to be there. Thank you so much for that. It means a lot to both of us. Also, it was great to see some SJSU undergrads from Kate Evans's writing class. This was Amy's first reading -- ever -- and it went over extremely well. As for me, this is the first time I've aired out any aspect of a new project that I'm working on. It has no title, and every piece of the project relates in some way to a physical artifact that I've either found or kept over the years or, in some cases, made from scratch. I'm envisioning this project as a kind of living museum or wonder-cabinet. Some of the material is pretty dark but I chose a piece that was quite a bit breezier and more lighthearted.  If you missed last night's presentation,  pick up the winter issue of Poets & Writers Magazine because the essay is going to appear in that issue.  By the way, the event was videotaped (all of it, including the Q & A afterward) and one of these days it is going to be posted on the Martha Heasley Cox Center for Steinbeck Studies' website so I'll give you a heads-up when it happens. I also wanted to let you know that Catamaran Literary Magazine (I'm now contributing editor) has been printed and copies of the magazine are going to ship really soon. In other news, I've dry cleaned my best shirt and suit because I am going to the UC Santa Cruz Founders Forum and Founders Dinner this Friday. I'm very excited about both of these things. On Friday I will have a chance to take in a presentation by Sir Martin Rees, one of the world's preeminent astronomers. The talk at this point is completely sold out but this TED talk should give you some sense of the breadth and the scope of Friday's discussion.  I will post a full report about Rees and his presentation on this blog early next week so stay tuned. I'll also do a big write-up about the dinner, too.  If the dry cleaners makes a mess of my shirt, I'm really up the creek.

Your final reminder and poster

Here is one last reminder for this event. Mostly I wanted you to see what they did with the poster; thanks, Nick Taylor, for putting this together.

If you are going to our big reading on Wednesday but can't figure out how to get there ...

Close to 100 percent of the people who read this blog will be going to my reading with Amy Ettinger so I'd better step up and give you better directions.

First of all, the basics: Amy Ettinger and I will both read personal essays that will most likely be incorporated into longer nonfiction projects. The reading starts at 7 p.m. at the Martin Luther King Jr. Library on 150 East San Fernando Street in San Jose. Once you arrive at the MLK library, proceed to the fifth floor. We will be speaking at Room 550 -- the Schiro Program Room.

Refreshments will be served including wine and cheese but you already know that. You're here for the directions. You're sick of being reminded about the wine and cheese.  So here goes.


DIRECTIONS FROM THE SILICON VALLEY AREA

 If you just so happen to be traveling from Cupertino, here's what you should do. Get on I-280 toward San Jose. Take the CA-87 N/Guadalupe Parkway exit, EXIT 3A. Take the Santa Clara Street exit toward Downtown San Jose. Turn right onto W Santa Clara St. Turn right onto S 4th St. Turn left onto E San Fernando St. (You will see Flames Eatery Bar on the left) You will soon see 150 E SAN FERNANDO ST on the right. You could try your luck with the parking meters but there are parking garages that are pretty close to there, too. Most of them are within easy walking distance.

DIRECTIONS FROM THE SANTA CRUZ AREA 

First, you'll want to get on Highway 17.  Then you'll want to merge onto I-280 South toward downtown San Jose.  Take the CA-87 N/Guadalupe Parkway exit, EXIT 3A. Take the Santa Clara Street exit toward Downtown San Jose. Turn right onto W Santa Clara St. Turn right onto S 4th St.Turn left onto E San Fernando St. Flames Eatery & Bar is on the left but don't eat there if you can help it. If you reach Paseo de San Antonio you've gone about 0.1 miles too far. The library, on 150 E SAN FERNANDO ST is on the right. If you reach S 5th St you've gone a little too far. I stole these directions straight off Mapquest. If these directions suck, blame them, not me.
 

Hooray for bald people

Thank you, Sam Autman, for posting this WSJ article on Facebook. This made my whole week (month, year, epoch.)

Yarn-bomber turns tree into go-go dancer!

My friendly neighborhood yarn bomber has turned a perfectly ordinary magnolia tree into a high-kicking, long-legged go-go dancer. If you want to see this in person, drive out to Santa Cruz and head out to Cayuga Street in the Seabright neighborhood. It is impossible to miss.

Leonard Cohen: we'll be seeing in you in San Jose

I was amazed to find out that the great Leonard Cohen will be playing live in San Jose on November 7. At 78, he's a good seven years older than Bob Dylan. A few years back, an unexpected financial setback  (involving a trusted associate's skullduggery) forced him to hit the road again. It was just another extreme example of retirement cut short during the financial hard times that are affecting us all. Anyways, this setback was a surprise boon for fans. I missed him last time around -- and this time I'm not making that mistake again. Here he is, performing Tower of Song. And if you -- the three readers of this blog -- aren't familiar with the works of Leonard Cohen, you might want to start with The Essential Leonard Cohen, a lovely, two-disk overview. Don't miss the liner notes by Pico Iyer. Not surprisingly, the talented Sylvie Simmons is getting strong reviews for her biography of Cohen. I would love to read the book by the time Mr. Cohen appears in San Jose but I've got about seven other books to read before that one.