Holy Crap, It's Christmas. I know where you can buy a great present; An Independent Book Store.

I’ve talked about how I love librarians, and I do. If they get behind an author you feel like you can accomplish anything. Another group that’s vital to a new writer is the independent bookseller. I wrote an article a couple years ago about one of the most endangered species in Florida: The Independent Bookseller. We’ve protected the rare Florida Key Deer, slashing the speed limit in their tiny sanctuary in the lower Keys, teaching the pubic about this small, genetic offshoot of the White Tail Deer and regarding them with a sort of awe and wonder with which we really should view all of God’s works of art.

But the independent book seller is also dying out. The wonderful Black Orchid of New York was the latest to slip into the La Brea Tar Pit of retail stores. Joe and Bonnie made me feel special when I would visit. More than once I’d meet someone who bought their first James O. Born novel from the Black Orchid.

I travel a lot now, especially when I have a new book out. The stores in Florida are universally supportive. Circle Books in Sarasota and Haslam’s in St. Pete push my books all year long. And I appreciate it. Joann Sinchuk of Murder on the Beach near my house has me speak to large book clubs all the time. I’m on great terms with most Florida booksellers through my travels and attending the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance trade show. SIBA gives publishers a chance to introduce their writers to the people who’ll be selling their books and it’s a great chance to get to know one another.

Last year on tour I stopped at the L.A. Mystery Book Store (mainly so Linda could make fun of me), Mysteries to Die For in Thousand Oaks, The Poisoned Pen and Houston’s Murder by the Book in the west and loved every minute of it.

All of these stores are just great. McKenna Jordan and David Thompson of Murder by the Book, are true crime fiction experts. To give you an idea of how they hand sell and push good books, our own Paul Levine had all four of his Solomon VS. Lord series on their yearly bestseller list. If that’s not good taste, I don’t know what is.

What can we do to help these fierce, non-corporate stores? It’s simple, shop there. If you’re an author, when you’re on tour, stop at one. Recommend them to your friends. Barnes & Nobles will understand. I’ve never met a B&N manager that was in favor of crushing a local, independent store. Spend a few minutes thinking about ordering a book from your own local independent bookseller rather than logging onto Amazon. I’m not a communist but Jeff Bezos has enough money.

In short, tell your local independent bookseller how much they mean to you and, if they don’t think it’s too creepy, give them a hug.

Ten Things Times Two

By Cornelia

Ten Things I Hate

1. Durian


File this under "Never Eat Anything Bigger Than Your Head." World's smelliest fruit. Like, so smelly you're not allowed to bring it into taxis or hotel rooms in most Asian countries.

And seriously, doesn't it look like something that would attack Sigourney Weaver in space? Why would you eat that? We make Intrepid Spouse consume it outdoors. Preferably in the rain.

2. The Smarmy Child-Molester Way That Televangelists Smile.



Even when they're dead. (Thought I pity the cat.)

3. Zamfir...

...And "Spa Music" generally. Reminds me of being forced to listen to WPAT ("Beautiful Music for Beautiful People") in the back of my Grandparents' Lincoln, as a kid.


4. Palmetto Bugs


Your basic flying durian.

5. That Hotel Skank Who Shall Here Remain Unnamed.


Never thought I'd miss Cornelia Guest. Enough said.

6. Movies With Roman Numerals in the Title

If it feels like you should microwave it before you watch it, it never should have been greenlighted.

7. Captain Beefheart

Ewwwww.

8. Kissinger


Yes, still.

9. Robert Moses


The guy who destroyed the South Bronx, drove the Dodgers and Giants out of New York, and whose underlings boasted they could keep African-Americans out of public swimming pools by "keeping the water too cold." But most of all, the guy who got Penn Station torn down.

I mean, who in their right mind would sacrifice this:



and this:


for this:



What a maroon.

10. Creationists

William Jennings Bryant: what a baboon.

Ten Things I Don't Hate

1. H.L. Mencken



"I never lecture, not because I am shy or a bad speaker, but simply because I detest the sort of people who go to lectures and don't want to meet them."

"It is now quite lawful for a Catholic woman to avoid pregnancy by a resort to mathematics, though she is still forbidden to resort to physics or chemistry."

2. Roz Chast Cartoons


3. Todd Snider


For writing the following lyrics:

Conservative Christian, right wing Republican, straight, white, American males,
Soul savin’, flag wavin’, Rush lovin’, land pavin’ personal
friends to the Quayles.
Quite diligently workin’ so hard to keep the free reins of this De-mo-cracy
From tree huggin’, peace lovin’, pot smokin’, barefootin’ folk-singin’ hippies like me.
Tree huggin’, peace lovin’, pot smokin’, porn watchin’ lazyass hippies like me.

4. The Idea of Hillary in the Whitehouse



Because nothing would tick off your average conservative Christian right-wing Republican more, and I totally love that.

5. Raclette


Because nothing says "Winter" like hot cheese.

Except latkes

But do yourself a favor and don't have them at the same meal.

6. Barbara Stanwyck


I just saw Double Indemnity again for the first time in years. The woman rocks.

7. Gustavian furniture


Kicks mid-century butt.


8. The Royal Tenenbaums

Watched it tonight on DVD. Exquisite. Like a Franny and Zooey visual cocktail.


9. Sally Mann's Photographs



10. Money



I finally got my advance check, and Wells Fargo finally took the hold off it. As Sophie Tucker used to say, "I been rich, and I been poor, and rich is better."

"Rich" is of course relative, but let's put it this way: I gave a buck to a homeless guy a couple of months ago, and he had a cellphone and I didn't. So at this point I been down so long it looks like up to me.

And as my sister Freya once said, "better nouveau riche than no riche at all."

Unless you're a Hilton.


What are you guys hating and not hating, at the moment?

This & That: Reflections of a Schizophrenic Mind

If it's Tuesday, this must be Paul.

CUE THE TWILIGHT ZONE MUSIC

True story. Yesterday, I'm driving on Cahuenga Boulevard in North Hollywood, talking to a pal on the phone. Earlier in the day, I'd been reading David Montgomery's Crime Fiction Dossier and noticed that Charlie Huston's "The Shotgun Rule" was on one of the "favorites" lists of 2007.

Just as I asked my friend if he'd ever read Huston, I pass a street sign.

Yep, Huston Street. Same spelling and all.

Okay, no big deal. Not yet, anyway.

Call waiting beeps. My son Mike-the-Pipes is on the line from "The Stadium Formerly Known as Joe Robbie" in Miami. He's covering the Baltimore-Miami game for ESPN Radio. Weirdly, the 0-13 Dolphins, vying for the coveted title of Worst Team in History...win in overtime! Holy W00T!

How did they win? Unheralded receiver Greg Camarillo inexplicably scored on a slant that went for a gazillion yards.

I look up. The street sign says "Camarillo."

I am not making this up.

If these things come in threes, what's next?
*******************
I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I ALWAYS ROOT FOR THE STEER

PERFECT CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR JIM BORN

Jim's been waiting 20 years! Finally, Rhino has come out with this boxed set of DVD's: "Barry Manilow: The first Five Television Specials." (Here's Barry with Penny Marshall. Not pictured: Jim Born).

**********************
WORDMEISTER AT A LOSS FOR...WORDS

I know there's a great caption for the Hatton-Mayweather weigh-in, but I can't come up with it. Cornelia? Anyone?
*********************************
JIM BORN SCARES UP GREAT REVIEW
Joe Hartlaub at Book Reporter names Jim Born's "Field of Fire" one of the ten best mysteries of the year. And good thing. As regular readers know, Jim is always heavily armed.

In case you missed his "Literature & Lead"" video last week, here's another peek. Warning: Not for the squeamish...or for that matter, the sane.
***************************************

CONGRATS TO LADY LION SPIKERS

Volleyball is a great sport. I tore up my knee (the first time) playing beach volleyball on Key Biscayne, FL. I was thrilled to watch the Penn State women's team claim the national championship last Saturday night by defeating six-time winner Stanford. Thrilling match with Penn State winning the first two games, Stanford roaring back with two games to tie, and Penn State taking the fifth game 15-8.

According to ESPN announcer (and famed player) Kirch Kiraly, there were a probable six U.S. Olympians on the court for the finals. So, now looking forward to Beijing.
*****************
Finally, in the words of Captain in "Cool Hand Luke" (Script by Donn Pearce and Frank Pierson), "What We've Got Here is a Failure to Communicate."

May all your messages be received,
Paul

Naked Navigation

Patty here…

First of all, here’s a NakedAuthors holiday greeting from all of us to all of you. If clicking on the link doesn’t work, you may have to cut and paste. Trust me. It’s worth the effort just to see Jim Born and Paul Levine in elf slippers. Here's the link: http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1430339331

Onward. Over the weekend I was sorting through my expenses for 2007 and noticed that I’d driven over 2500 miles on Southern California’s highways and byways this year, visiting bookstores and speaking at various events. Most of the time I’m driving alone at night in unfamiliar territory. That’s why I have only one requirement in a car—it must have a navigation system. My current ride is German, and it has a nav system that uses a disembodied woman’s voice. My friend Karen Olson calls her “Sonja.” I call her She Who Must be Obeyed.

Sonja and I don’t always agree. She may be good at directions but I have my finger on the pulse of L.A. traffic. As a result, I sometimes make a turn she doesn’t like. I know this because after a moment of confusion, she will say in a tone that can only be described as clipped and authoritarian, “RECALCULATING!” (I guess you can take the girl out of Stuttgart but you can’t take the Stuttgart out of the girl.)

Sonja thinks she’s perfect, but she’s not. Sometimes her directions sound like a dachshund’s shrill bark, making it difficult to decipher if she wants me to turn left or right. Last Thursday, I was on my way to do a radio interview in Studio City. Sonja wanted me to go east on the 10 Freeway. It wouldn’t have been my choice, but to keep the peace, I complied.

“In two-tenths of a mile,” she said, “exit at La Cienega Boulevard.”

And there’s another of her flaws. She can’t pronounce La Cienega. She says, “La sin NAY ga instead of La see N ega. It’s irritating, because as many times as we’ve been down that road before (so to speak), she should know better by now. On the other hand, I appreciate her telling me “You have arrived at your destination” and on what side of the street the address is located. All of this reminds me once again that relationships are all about compromise.

All of the navigation systems I’ve ever heard use women’s voices. I find that curious because experience tells me men don’t like women telling them to “safely make a U-turn when possible.” So what gives? Do you guys secretly like back-seat driving or are you just looking for a little dominatrix action during those long, lonely commutes to and from work?

Maybe we entrepreneurial Nakeds should start a business of customizing the voices on navigation systems. We’ll call it Naked Navs. Voice Option 1: the kind and socially conscious voice of Our J, with the added bonus of that lovely British accent of hers, telling you to veer left and for the sake of the polar bears, shouldn't you really be driving a Prius? Voice Option 2: the James O, tough guy kick ass and drive safe or I’ll plug your book with my Glock sort of voice. Voice Option 3: Paulie’s wise-cracking directional patter that will keep you laughing even in the worst traffic snarls. As a bonus, it will also highlight all of the anti-war rallies along the route. Voice Option 4: Miss Cornelia’s hip, irreverent social commentary, advising you to “Hang a U-ey, Dude, and while you’re at it, let's load and listen to that CD of the Oranim Zabar Israeli Troupe, singing about the new highway from Beersheeba to Elath.” Voice Option 5: Me—at least I know how to pronounce La Cienega.

To pre-order, please press “comments” and leave your credit card number in the box to the right.

Happy Monday.

And So This Is ...

from Jacqueline

Reading the New York Times just after Thanksgiving, I had a quick scan through an item on the front page regarding predictions of it being a pretty tough holiday season this year. The US economy is held up by the Chinese, who aren’t exactly enamored of the good old dollar any more, houses are in foreclosure and the price of gas is going up and up, even if it does fall back every now and again. In the midst of this gloom, the general feeling was that many people would be passing by the high-end stores as they went about the spending of their money, and would instead be patronizing stores where they would get more bang for their buck. In fact, to start me off on a Sunday morning, one woman said, “I’m shopping at Target and Best Buy this year – it’s going to be a hard, hard Christmas.”

Hard, hard Christmas, thought I? Has this woman just lost the last marble in her head? Hard Christmas, when you can afford to go shopping at Target and Best Buy?

Something, somewhere is out of whack. Anyone reading the newspaper or viewing the latest on CNN will know what a hard holiday season is about.



My prickly response to this article was reignited a couple of days later when I was driving along listening to NPR. Robert Frank, author of Richistan: A Journey Through The American Wealth Boom and the lives of the New Rich, was being interviewed. He was giving examples of a mindset of wealth that is not new, but is definitely different from the wealth waves of the past. He recounted sitting on the 100ft yacht owned by a well-known jillionaire, and was asking him how he felt about his wealth. Turns out that this man did not consider himself wealthy, in fact, he thought he was verging on poor, and pointed to another yacht in the same marina – a 200ft gin palace (my words, couldn’t help it) that he coveted.

Something is waaaay out of whack here. And one of the problems is stuff. Most of us have got too much stuff. We expect even more stuff at holiday times, and we are breeding new generations addicted to stuff. And why are we all grabbing more stuff than we can possibly ever need? Arguably, it's to fill that great big hole somewhere inside that can’t be filled by all the money and stuff in the world.

It’s the hole inside kids who hardly see their parents, but have every new this, that and the other available to purchase. It’s the hole inside people who don’t have time for each other any more, racing against the clock, for the train, along the freeway. It’s the hole that began over a hundred years ago with the American dream of personal independence. Only we went too far.

And for the purposes of this post, I am not even going to touch the people who are making us feel less than worthy if we don’t have all that stuff.

A few years ago, I became quite sickened by the pre-holiday indulgence in shopping. I went out to buy some gifts and came back feeling a bit queasy, to tell you the truth. People, wide-eyed and manic-looking (and I know, any mall can do that to you), were just going round grabbing as much stuff as they could as if the world was going to run out of ... stuff. Men, women and children were going in and out of stores with as many plastic bags of more stuff than they could ever use or have reasonable sized closets to hold it all in. I felt as if I were witnessing a dreadful gorge-fest, and I went home, tired and sad.

No one received gifts that year. I sent cards, and in each card I included a letter informing my dear friends and family that, believe it or not, I had more stuff than I could possibly use already. The stuff I really needed was very specific, and I could buy it myself. I let them know that I had sent all my gift-buying money to four organizations as donations. And I said that if they really wanted to buy me a gift, send the money instead to a non-profit they believed in. That didn’t make me a saint – we all do what we can. I was just so sick of the spend, spend, spend culture of the festive season.

The holiday season has its roots in Saturnalia, the winter pagan festival that was really all about gratitude and hope. (Those clever marketing whizz-kids, the early Christians, moved the celebration of Jesus' birth to winter, to bring more pagans over to their side). The festive foods of today still reflect that ritual: Sweets and puddings made of dried summer fruits are a reminder of a bountiful harvest and the sweetness of life. The evergreen Christmas trees and yule log were worshipped and signified everlasting life, and big fires were lit to give strength to the sun, for it was at the heart of life.



So, what is at the heart of life, and how can we celebrate it by not going crazy at Target or even – for those who can afford it – Neiman Marcus this year? How can we spread the festive season around a bit, so that others taste the sweetness of life? Me? I’ll probably go out to buy a few small gifts late on Christmas Eve, not to a mall, but somewhere with a main street and colored lights and I’ll feel a bit like an extra in one of those old movies about the meaning of the season. But by then I will have already sent out the more important gifts to the organizations I like to support. And no, I’m no angel – it’s just so much easier than the stuff-acquisition (even taking into account internet-ordering). And I never could belt out a carol on a full stomach.



I've not quite cracked the task of adding a video link, but if you go here, you'll find my favorite holiday song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBfEGETyGjs

Literature and Lead with James O. Born

I did something different this week. I even put some effort into it. I made a short video. That’s right, I’m gonna let this five minute movie do the talking for me. If you’re a crime fiction fan or writer and want to see what guns can really do- have a look. If you want a chuckle – have a look. If your curious and wonder what I do with my free time – have a look. It's called Literature and Lead, Where Books Meet Bullets. And yes, some books were hurt during the filming of this video.

But if I draw in some rednecks or hunters to the world of reading, it'll all be worth it. Once you’ve had a chance to see it, leave me a comment here or at my website, http://www.jamesoborn.com/ . I’d love to hear what you think. This thing was a lot of work. My friend Jeff Shelby gave me the idea and helped. It was fun. A lot of fun and I hope it shows in the movie. Don’t worry, I’ll write something for the blog next week. This week I want you to indulge me and look at this damn movie.
And maybe tell a friend or two.

I want to thank Joe Konrath and Jeff Shelby for their help in this endeavor. They're good sports and we talked about it before I made the movie. For the record, I really liked both of these books. I even blurbed Bloody Mary. I wrote a review of Jeff's first book, Killer Swell, and rank it and Wicked Break among my favorite novels. After all the jokes these two have played on me it did feel good to plug away at their books. Finally, all those years on the SWAT team paid off.

The movie might be at the bottom of the post but I've had problems uploading it. If not its posted at Youtube at:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=8nF652F5dcE

See you next Thursday.

Jim

Your Tax Dollars at Work

By Cornelia

It has been a very, very long time since the government has done anything I was happy about. I'm not happy about the war, or the No Child Left Behind fiasco, or the lame-ass response to the ginormous growth in autism cases, or anything else they've done since, like, forever.


But about two months ago, the government made me very, very happy.

I was lying on the sofa minding my own business, wondering if it was worthwhile to turn off the TV at the end of Jeopardy, when the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but luckily turned down the volume on the opening theme of Wheel of Fortune before I picked up.

The guy on the phone said, "Hello, Cornelia?"

I said, "Um. This is Cornelia."

And he said, "This is Dana Gioia, from the National Endowment for the Arts."

I swallowed kind of hard, thinking "wow, am I EVER glad I turned down the volume, because how embarrassing would it be to have someone shriek 'I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat!'" In the background while you've got the chairman of the NEA on the phone, you know?

Here is what Mr. Gioia then proceeded to tell me:


As of several days ago, I can actually tell people that it happened. YAY!!!!! I AM SO EXCITED!!!!!


Here is the official version:

The 2008 Literature Fellowships recognize... writers of prose, encouraging the production of new work by affording these writers the time and means to write. Each literature fellow receives a $25,000 award.

This seems like a great deal of money to me. I am tremendously grateful both to the NEA and to my fellow taxpayers for their largesse. I feel kind of guilty.

I keep reminding myself that the war in Iraq costs about $300 million a day.

And that assuages my guilt a little, you know? I mean, writers are cheap, compared to the price of war.



And then I get to thinking about what the WHOLE war is going to cost. I'm hearing something like $1.2 trillion dollars. Let's write that out all the way so we can look at all the zeros, shall we?

$120,000,000,ooo,ooo

Got that?

Think about how much cancer research that would buy. Or college tuitions. Or teacher salaries.

Or how much of, say, New Orleans it could rebuild.


Or how many kids it could feed.


How many veterans it could provide honest-to-goodness healthcare for.

As the Beach Boys used to sing, "wouldn't it be nice?"

(WARNING: the above is NOT the Beach Boys.
It is Country Joe and the Fish.
Saying "fuck."
A lot.)

What would you buy with $1.2 trillion, if we could end the war and stuff?