One thing about living in the city is that there are, at any given moment, lots of things to stumble upon and bump into. Recently, on my way to see Michael Chabon at the Harold Washington, I slipped into the lobby of a little building on State to see what Joe Meno (
) was up to.
—Where's the reading? I asked the welcome desk.
—The what? the desk returned.
—I think there's a reading here tonight. Do you know where that might take place?
—No. There are only classes here. Math classes, computer classes, literacy classes.
—Ooh! Literacy classes. Where are those?
—10th floor.
Once on the 10th floor, I walked into a small, hot office suite and waited to talk to someone in one of the cubicles. Around me people slouched in various uncomfortable chairs.
—Do you work here? one of the slouchers asked.
—No. I'm just waiting to ask someone about something, I vagued.
—Do you have your GED? someone asked.
—No, I don't.
A minute later I was ushered into a hotter, fuller room and offered ranch dip and potato chips with lemon-y jarrito in styrofoam.
—Do you work here? someone asked.
Twenty minutes and several conversations about the merits of passing the GED later, Joe Meno began to read from a collection of memoirish pieces.
—That was a
short story? someone asked at the end of his forty minute reading.
Meno smiled and said, yes, but he hadn't realized how long it was. And thanks for listening. He then answered questions about what fiction and creative nonfiction are, how one might encourage one's precocious, writerly daughter, and just what kind of content bookslut.com might publish.
To my mind, Meno's work oscillates between simple beauty and some things that don't quite work, but his example of how to be a writer in the city—teaching at Columbia, reading with the literati, reading to people learning to enjoy written story for the first time—is a consistently good one.
Thanks, Joe.
The newest book:
THE GREAT PERHAPS is the story of the Caspers, a family of cowards: Jonathan, a paleontologist, searching in vain for a prehistoric giant squid; his wife, Madeline, an animal behaviorist with a failing experiment; their daughter, Amelia, a disappointed teenage revolutionary; her younger sister, Thisbe, on a frustrated search for God; and grandfather Henry, who wants to disappear, limiting himself to eleven words a day, then ten, then nineÉ Each fears uncertainty and the possibilities that accompany it. When Jonathan and Madeline suddenly decide to separate, this nuclear family is split, each member forced to confront his or her own cowardice, finally coming to appreciate the cloudiness of the modern age. With wit and humor, The Great Perhaps presents a revealing look at anxiety, ambiguity, and the need for complicated answers to complex questions.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Monday, November 2nd, 2009
One thing about living in the city is that there are, at any given moment, lots of things to stumble upon and bump into. Recently, on my way to see Michael Chabon at the Harold Washington, I slipped into the lobby of a little building on State to see what Joe Meno (Hairstyles of the Damned, The Boy Detective Fails) was up to.
[devil with a blue dress on]
[deciding whether to be naughty or nice]
[a sparkly pirate]
[the kedzie castle]
[whitney's homemade raccoon costume]
[mark gettin' westy with his favorite girl]
[mummy out on the town]
[val and kimmie's without-our-normal-glasses getup]
[moses's gorgeous jack]
[paparazzi me and lurking mummy-on-the-town]
[brown line rockwell stop]
[woodgrain self portrait]
[red line chicago stop]
[the hancock]
Renowned for its beautiful hosteliers, semi-organized, late-night group bike rides, dance club excursions, vegan-friendly pancake breakfasts, and impromptu string jam sessions, The Hostel Washtenaw is a favorite for seasoned travelers making their way to or through Chicago.
[two flat on wheels]
[summer courting rituals in progress]
[house shoes on the lam]
[rrrawr]
[among the collection of tiny instruments]
[kitchen/pancake makery]
[big mra, little alex]
[writing love on all our arms]
[hosteliers Lisa & Dena]
The Counterfactuals record a few of their songs during yesterday's Lakeview session. Good music available to good homes soon!
[the Pinkhouse, Colorado Springs]
[Ms. Dixie and her epic tongue]
[oversized load]
[Michael at the wheel]
[my feet on Dan Peterman's dance floor in Spirit of Music Garden in Grant Park]
Dinner: Or A Deranged Event Staged in a Theoretical Mansion in Which Time and History Have Been Grossly Dismembered and What We Know as the Laws of Physics Wildly Subverted, Conducted as an Inquiry into the Genius of Madness and the Art of the Faux Pas, and Having as a First Course to be Served to a Cast of Sixteen Eccentrics A Dish of Carrot Cabbage Salad Meant to Tickle Every Palate
and attended an interview between
and
then a songwriting workshop with
a concert by
another by
a presentation by film composer
who scored
with common kitchen supplies and just finished
.
enjoyed the company (and the war wounds) of
and the opinions of
after hearing a paper delivered by
.
and allowed most of my hair to be cut off like
and
.
[sweet baby evie]
(Thanks to JK for marking my new role, too.)
Okay graphic designer friends, don't look. I'm still clumsy in photoshop, but having a palette (grand canyon!) helps the bigger ideas begin to take shape. Here's what I pulled together for my sister's wedding—a four-day hiking, rafting, dancing, bonfiring, music-laden, nouveau americana celebration that will take place this June.
[the birthday girl]
[the living room]
[¡que boa!]
[brooke shaking it up]
[me sans bobby pin]
[fuel for andy's torch song]
[the hostess with the mostest and the bestest]
[the affable and articulate chris bathgate]
[beautiful lakeri]
[d playing with fire]
[lakeri making it look easy]
[andy making it look difficult]
[caitlin telling it straight]
[the girls getting it done]
Thursday night found me avoiding the rain in our neighborhood bookstore, The Book Cellar. The night's reading was from poet, photographer, and novelist Jesse Ball. A Believer shortlistee, winner of the Plimpton, and wearer of a particularly fine beard, Ball read from The Way Through Doors, which was succor on a gloomy night punctuated by the downpour, disappointing paneer, and close contact with a rather nasty head cold.
[the counterfactuals play a little something]
[on the futon with tiny instruments]
[caitlin, michael, and five bananas]
[the host with the most]
[keith and ben's remake of a johnny cash favorite]
[brandon's fine tiffany]
[jenn and sarah cover brittany]
[pilot Andy]
[supportive audience]
[suited up]
[a glower anyone would love]
[avi and his birthday suit]
[mr. carter on the meaning of life]
[emily making pregnancy look so good]
T and I attended a basic sewing workshop at The Needle Shop this weekend. While making a pillow case, we got to know our sewing machines and learned to do some basic stitching, read fabric, and put in a zipper. [interior of The Needle Shop (their photograph)].jpg)
[sewing maven, patient and brave]
[T and Janis, her mini machine with lots of heart].jpg)
[before].jpg)
[after: pillow looking like something ripped from the pages of a French children's book]
Posts
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
