Book News

The book has a new cover because a big buyer for Barnes and Noble didn’t like the original one.  What do you think?

New publication date.  I wasn’t getting strong enough orders to compete with the fall books, so my publisher pushed the book back to Feb. 2006.  Uck.

cindydyson.com has a lot more to it now.  You can print And She Was bookmarks, rank dive bars, study latrinalia, listen to me read chapters, subscribe to a podcast, track the Wayward Book Tour, and read favorite passages in the Random Flip.

Reviews
the first are in

“…unforgettable… Highly recommended.”
—Library Journal, starred review

“…an original and provocative first novel.”
—Publishers Weekly

“spunky voice and a strange landscape…”
—Kirkus Reviews

PR Squad

Help the book out by doing this kind of stuff.

Forward the Red Office to friends and tell them to sign up. 

Go to my website and email your favorite page to friends.  Just click on the envelope icon on the menu bar and select “send page by email.” 

On the Loose

Sept. 9-11 Pacific Northwest Booksellers Tradeshow, Portland, signing advance reader copies.

Sept 23-25 Mountain and Plains Booksellers Tradeshow, Denver, signing arc’s.

Oct. 7-9, Northern California Booksellers Tradeshow, San Francisco, signing arc’s.

Good Reads

Ordinary Wolves
by Seth Kantner

Bitch Posse
by Martha O’Connor


The Red Office will be shorter and more frequent, thus the e-pops name.

Look for the regular Taking Offense in the coming weeks, as well as new features — the Cheap Wine Review, Poetic Fashion, and Alaska as Seen From the Floorboards of a Subaru.

If you’d like to submit an essay for the any of these, email me for specifics.

 

Degenerate Prose

Writing isn't therapy. If it is, don't let anyone read it.

Listen to The Red Office while you do your email duties or play solitaire.

Just click the dot and minimize the screen.

 The dictionary is generous with the word degenerate, offering scads of meanings. But for our purposes two will suffice to explain this column — to decline from a standard of normalcy and to allow two degrees of freedom on either side. 

In this installment of DP we look at that perennial writerly argument about what makes a book literary, as opposed to trash.  Oops.  I mean genre or mainstream. 

In case you don’t grasp the emotions involved, let me relay something I saw at a writer’s conference workshop titled Creating Scintillating Dialogue.  Some idiot, oops I mean, thoughtful artistic type, asked the presenter what differentiated a work as literary or genre.  That was it.  We never discussed scintillation.  There was a fight; it spilled into the parking lot.  A chair flew; a PERMANENT marker was brandished.

Now you understand.  Let’s explore the lit-genre fight by randomly choosing two Pulitzer winners and two genre writers from my shelves to study.  (I want to clarify that I did not buy the romance book, A Dangerous Man, rather someone to whom I’m related left it at my house.)

Character description 

Pulitzer:  Michael Chabon describing a character in “Kavalier & Clay.”  He slouched, and wore clothes badly; he always looked as though he had just been jumped for his lunch money.

Genre:  Rosemary Rogers describing a character in “A Dangerous Man.”  Tory had the impression of dark hair and skin, thick ropes of muscle, and lazy grace as he stepped closer, so close she could feel the animal heat emanating from him.

As you can see, the “genre” sentence has BIGGER words, is LONGER, plus it uses a metaphor, which we know is stronger than the simile used in the “literary” sentence.

First lines

Pulitzer:  Eugenides in “Middlesex.”  I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkable smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.

Genre: Evanovich’s latest Plum book.  My name is Stephanie Plum.

Evanovich’s is rhythmic.  But Eugenides does use BOTH a colon and a semicolon in one sentences, which is tough to pull off.

Random sentence, mid-book.

Pulitzer: Eugenides. Down beneath my legs the toilet bowl had a rust stain, ancient, too.

Genre:  Evanovich. “Somebody blew up Mama Macaroni,” my mother said.

Covers.

Middlesex — ship floating on an ocean of wafting smoke, gold Pulitzer sticker.  Kavalier & Clay — comic-style title, moody sky, NYC skyline, gold sticker.

Dangerous Man — tartish purple with bumped-up horses and the words “New York Times Bestselling Author.” 

Eleven on Top — a simple yellow to green gradient and the “Bestselling Author” bit.

(Secret for agent seekers:  Putting one of these stickers or typing Bestselling Author on your manuscript’s cover sheet will really get a prospective agent’s attention.)

So you’re probably saying, yeah, it looks like the differences are all in the cover and the sticker/bestselling thing.  What’s all the fighting and so forth about? 

Well, the fighting is really instigated by one person, just watch and tell me if it isn’t true.  Genre writers, who aren’t Bestselling Authors.  Their preoccupation is an attempt to get presenters to make them feel better.  But there’s no need.  Good readers and good writers trespass boundaries, dabble in oddities, bask in discomfort. 

Action:  Buy a book in a foreign genre.  If you don’t do literary, get a Booker.  If you don’t do genre, get something with a dragon or pirate cover.  If you’re already flexible, try a graphic novel like Epileptic.  Read your strange book only in the bathroom, including long baths.  Think about how this book is different from and similar to your usual reads.  Send me a photo proving you did it and get something cool.

A note about the writing exercises.  Most are performed on bathroom walls.  The reasoning obvious — it’s freeing and degenerate.  In preparation, recon the public toilets on your beat. Find a couple that are dripping with latrinealia.  Also get a washable marker.

 Read more about the fight.  Blowhards     Buzz, Balls & Hype

 

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