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January 11, 2008

Comments

Nigel Beale

Mark, I'd like to review your book. How can I get a hold of a review copy? By contacting Canongate in England?

Thanks.

Hpp

Wait... your French agent was laughing at the English original, or the French translation? (Because if the former, as it sounds, what will really matter is if the translator gets the humor and can render it in French...)

Nigel Beale

Hi again Mark, sorry to use this public forum to bug you, please feel free to delete this comment, but I'm very keen to get a review copy of Wood's How Fiction Works. Contacted Jonathan Cape several days ago but haven't heard back. Do you know of a quicker route?

Thanks again for this, and for the vicarious ever so slightly envy tinged pleasure I'm experiencing via your blog re your successes.

NB

Huysmans

Wow, that is really exciting news, after learning about your blog, reading it, and referencing it in my thesis on literature and blogging I have to say that I am very excited to hear about the publishing.

Looking forward to the release...

Huysmans
http://bloggingliterature.wordpress.com

Joe

Thank you so much! I'm so excited to read it, I can't wait!

Kathleen

Don't forget to include appearances here in NorCal! The Bay Area and our many independent booksellers await you.

TEV

I will be at Book Passage in the Ferry Building - we're just waiting on the confirmed date.

The comments to this entry are closed.

TEV DEFINED


  • The Elegant Variation is "Fowler’s (1926, 1965) term for the inept writer’s overstrained efforts at freshness or vividness of expression. Prose guilty of elegant variation calls attention to itself and doesn’t permit its ideas to seem naturally clear. It typically seeks fancy new words for familiar things, and it scrambles for synonyms in order to avoid at all costs repeating a word, even though repetition might be the natural, normal thing to do: The audience had a certain bovine placidity, instead of The audience was as placid as cows. Elegant variation is often the rock, and a stereotype, a cliché, or a tired metaphor the hard place between which inexperienced or foolish writers come to grief. The familiar middle ground in treating these homely topics is almost always the safest. In untrained or unrestrained hands, a thesaurus can be dangerous."

SECOND LOOK

  • The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

    Bs

    Penelope Fitzgerald's second novel is the tale of Florence Green, a widow who seeks, in the late 1950s, to bring a bookstore to an isolated British town, encountering all manner of obstacles, including incompetent builders, vindictive gentry, small minded bankers, an irritable poltergeist, but, above all, a town that might not, in fact, want a bookshop. Fitzgerald's prose is spare but evocative – there's no wasted effort and her work reminds one of Hemingway's dictum that every word should fight for its right to be on the page. Florence is an engaging creation, stubbornly committed to her plan even as uncertainty regarding the wisdom of the enterprise gnaws at her. But The Bookshop concerns itself, finally, with the astonishing vindictiveness of which provincials are capable, and, as so much English fiction must, it grapples with the inevitabilities of class. It's a dense marvel at 123 pages, a book you won't want to – or be able to – rush through.
  • The Rider by Tim Krabbe

    Rider_4

    Tim Krabbé's superb 1978 memoir-cum-novel is the single best book we've read about cycling, a book that will come closer to bringing you inside a grueling road race than anything else out there. A kilometer-by-kilometer look at just what is required to endure some of the most grueling terrain in the world, Krabbé explains the tactics, the choices and – above all – the grinding, endless, excruciating pain that every cyclist faces and makes it heart-pounding rather than expository or tedious. No writer has better captured both the agony and the determination to ride through the agony. He's an elegant stylist (ably served by Sam Garrett's fine translation) and The Rider manages to be that rarest hybrid – an authentic, accurate book about cycling that's a pleasure to read. "Non-racers," he writes. "The emptiness of those lives shocks me."