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April 03, 2008

Reclusive Weirdo

So I woke up this a.m. thinking about how unsuited most writers are to the kind of self-promotion—or any kind of promotion—that publishing a book seems to require. Me, I live in a hole. I like my hole. Me and my hole have rapport. BTW, if you detect sexualized content in the foregoing, there’s a website out there for you. I don’t see that many people. I’d like to think it’s because I work hard and read a lot, but mostly I’m staring at the wall or watching the Food Network. Want to know what it’s like being a first-time novelist? You watch the Food Network when you can’t sleep, which is all the time. In order of best to worst: Barefoot Contessa (there’s something so lewd about that moniker, in striking and hilarious contrast to what Ina Garten is actually like), Alton Brown, Giada Delaurentis, Danny Boome (that guy is hot), Dave Lieberman (that guy is hot), the chefs who have the day slots, that British woman with the huge rack, Paula Dean, Bobby Flay, Guy Fieri, despite his dumbass sunglasses and culottes for every occasion, Rachel Ray, whose stock has risen now that’s she done a show about feeding your pets, the dinner impossible guy, and Sandra Lee. Sandra Lee matches her clothing to her kitchen to her food to her cocktails. I find this vulgar. But I watch her show. How often? Enough that I’ve seen reruns. My point? It’s a little jarring suddenly being asked to talk to people. Like real live people. And to have these people talk back.

I wonder about novelists from other countries. Are they weird and reclusive? Is Jose Saramago, whom I revere, agoraphobic? I bet not. I bet he sits around with snifter and cigar, regaling his fans. I bet he’s got a wife and kids, hacienda and stable income. I guess this amounts to a splendid Google opportunity. But while I’m Googling, I’d like you all to consider the awesome virtues of a novel like The Cave. Its compassion and intelligence about people. Its tender regard for the minutia of our lives, the same minutia that accrues significance just for being in our lives. I was about to quote some favorite lines, only it seems my copy of the novel has disappeared. Guess this says something about how I treat the things I love. 

Oh, look, Google images says he wears giant glasses and bad suits. So on the surface of things, I’m more socialized than Jose Saramago. Ha. Also: Fiona, here. Guest blogger. Back in a few.

Posted by Fiona Maazel at 04:05 AM in Guest Bloggers |

Comments

For about ten minutes I was wondering how I never knew about Mark's intense love of the food network (Hi Fiona)

Posted by: Michael | April 03, 2008 at 08:18 AM

Hi Fiona -

I read your novel very recently and really liked it - the mix of addiction, science and the struggle for connection when the whole world seems programmed to twart at every turn was both hysterical and jarring.

Congratulations!
MBS.

Posted by: Mark B Snyder | April 03, 2008 at 08:21 AM

Thanks, Mark! I'm very glad you liked it.

Posted by: Fiona | April 03, 2008 at 08:54 AM

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