Who Aspires to Be a Writer?

My quote: "The only aspiring writer is one who has yet to put pen to paper."

This of course is dated, now, since most writers, even the youngest of us, go straight to keyboard and electronic screen.

I used to hear and see this a lot: "I am/he or she or it is an aspiring writer." or "I want/he or she or it wants to be a writer." So, write. What's stopping you?
(Apologies to those like Helen Keller who needed more than pen & paper, but even she would probably be on my side today, what with not only keyboards but voice-recognition software and artificial intelligence available)

What Julie Powell was before her blog was an aspiring published writer, or a writer aspiring to be published. And, since there's an electronic button on the bottom of a blog post screen that says "PUBLISH," her status as a(n adult, post-college, unpublished) writer changed right away.

The distinction of becoming even a published writer blurred when self-publishing mechanisms became less arduous and costly (than say, in the centuries previous to this one) and anyone with some own money or backing can get his (or her or its -- This is the last time I am making this concession. I am old-fashioned and will now revert to using the male as universal pronoun. Do I ask forgiveness? No.) book "published," meaning printed and bound. With the internet, one does not even need that much money to become a published writer. Any blogger, commentator or contributor to a open website seeking to showcase writers who hits "PUBLISH" or "SEND" or "SUBMIT" or "POST" or "UPLOAD" or "SHARE NOW" (any other synonyms for online publishing out there?) can get his writing published. I think most people understand this today. They also place a lesser value for being a writer now.

Then, the issue becomes recognition or being read.

In the printed world, that meant being accepted for publication by a known and established publisher who will print (and bind, if it were a book versus a magazine or newspaper article) what you wrote. That, of course, was the first step. Then, critical acclaim was the next step. Popularity in the form of sales -- both in volume and in duration -- was great (and even surpassed a good review -- "It got good reviews" became the high-brow response or consolation prize to relative obscurity).

Atop all this, being published has become a competitive sport. Not only should he get published, recognized and read, and we need to know not only how long his writing has been on the bestsellers' list, but also what rank on that list. Bloggers need to be able to point to how many followers they have, just like newspapers have circulation numbers and syndicated columnists have number of newspapers which carry their writing. And, I just thought of academia -- publish or perish! Gee, it's not a sport; it's a reality show!

Getting it made into a movie, I believe, still ranks fairly high on the recognition scale. This also can translate into more book sales. Silly Carolyn didn't believe that we could possibly sell more copies of Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone when the film was released. Larry, for one, did believe as we had ordered a pile of them just before the movie came out. And, we did sell more.
Who would have imagined that some reluctant readers would have to wait for a movie industry's endorsement before reading a book that had already been purchased by millions around the world, enchanted several more millions of readers (who shared the book, had it read to them or borrowed it from the library -- all good), excited some unenchanted to scorn, censor, condemn and ban it, and encouraged other writers and publishers to offer readers similar fare or drag out all the classics (remember the "While Waiting for Harry IV" lists of books to read?).

I am also gratified to know that Ken Burns's Civil War series on PBS with commentary by the authoritative-sounding and personable-looking Shelby Foote also encouraged people to try reading at least one of his three-volume set on the subject.



We wish this were true of more of Ken Burns's work. Perhaps readers are exhausted after the first volume. (I have always heard that the third volume is the most exciting read. Perhaps the reason is that the events between Red River and Appomattox were more "exciting.") We promise, the companion book to the U.S. National Parks has a lot less words and more photographs!

Oh, yes, Oprah's recommendation is usually also the recognition-craving author's dream come true.

On a website, it probably means tracking number of viewers (which we don't). For those with e-books available for free or a small compensation, it means downloads.

Julie Powell, not content to write and be published online, needed to know someone was reading her writing. For a blogger, that means she needed comments and followers. She did eventually get those plus news coverage, the book deal, the movie deal, the next book deal... She can now call herself a writer (after her husband Eric had been reassuring her that she had been a writer for years, according to the movie.)

In short, a writer needs to know someone is reading his work, doesn't he?

Eventually, yes, a writer needs readers, affirmation, recognition, critical acclaim, maybe even a movie (especially a movie if he's writing for that genre, as a lot of writers, aspiring or otherwise, are now doing). I guess it depends on to what he aspires.

With that springboard sentence, let us return to the main discussion here, which is aspiration. What is the definition of "to aspire?" Does one aspire to become popular/famous/known? To sway others to his point of view? To be respected by those he respects? To tell the "truth" as he sees it? To inform? To entertain? To exorcise something within himself? To record events? To boast? To show tangible output/results of work or creative mind? To share a dream? To wrought a means to an end?

Why do I write?

I began my involvement in Toastmasters when Deb Andrews started the group in our first year in graduate management school at Boston College (now called Carroll School of Management), and recall my first speech ("The Icebreaker," because it would be on the easiest subject -- yourself) was called "Confessions of a Third-Rate Hack" to tell the side of myself that my classmates did not know -- I am a writer.

Do you notice by the title of my speech, I didn't aspire to write, not even aspire to publish? I believe I was aspiring to be a better writer than I was. I believe I'm still aspiring to be better. I believe that's why I have now taken more than 6 hours over 9 days to write this entry, which will be published in a self-edited form and maybe be read by someone other than myself (by a surfer or by my 2 followers, one who is my brother John Chin -- long-suffering webmaster and User Experience Professional who encourages me in starting my online vices and then, tangles with us when we don't take the user into account). I think I've actually spent over 9 hours on this draft, but I won't count the time I worked to get the images of Shelby Foote's book covers uploaded correctly (they're still not, right? they look like so many colourful boxes of cereal ready for a taste test with Mikey).

So, Carolyn, stop dilly-dallying -- why do you write? First and foremost, I write to "memorialize" thoughts. I aspire to write better so that I can be proud of my writing, to know that my articulation is as good as it can be given the form and time (akin to buying something based on the best value for the money afforded, I am writing the best quality in the current circumstances).

The goal -- the ultimate aspiration -- is to write what I would most want to read -- well-researched, well-imagined, well-plotted use of resources, including time, energy and thought to create a tangible, legible result bigger than simply groups of words that fit together, an experience to be harnessed, cherished, and referenced again and again. Eventually, I might aspire to obtaining readers, affirmation, recognition, critical acclaim, and maybe even a movie, but not right now. I'll need to increase my value, first.

Wow! Too many "I's" makes the blog narcissistic! Better stop before I have to change the number of hours I have spent on this draft post. PUBLISH!

Julie & Julia But Really & Eric, & Paul and & Larry

On Tuesday, we went to see the movie "based on two true stories" as it is being touted.
It was all about this book, Mastering the Art of French Cooking (technically, renamed volume 1 upon update and after volume 2 was published) by Julia Child, Simone Beck & Louisette Berthol, as referenced in these two books:
My Life is France by Julia Child
and Julie & Julia: A Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell (the original hardcover subtitle described the project and blog: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen
(being sold at the official movie site with links to Borders and B&N, but curiously, not amazon.com nor IndieBound (organization of independent booksellers formerly known as BookSense)
Confession: I have not read either of the two books on which the film is based. My sense of Julia Child comes from memories as a (not so young) child watching her cooking shows aired on PBS and a biography covering her life (including mother's and father's (and grandparents') history through to saying good-bye to Paul (who died in 1994) as she scattered his ashes out to sea.
I believe it is this one, Appetite for Life: The Biography of Julia Child by Noel Riley Fitch. With full access to Julia's papers, it was so intimately done, that I erroneously recalled it to Jim Ferolo as being an autobiography. Jim told me a few Saturdays ago that he had really enjoyed the movie, especially the performances by Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci, how they portrayed the love and respect Julia & Paul must have shared. I agree. Was this relationship idealized, either in all these books or in the film? Who knows? If so, it's a great feel-good take-away myth, and I always say, truth can appear even more unreal than fiction.

Additionally, I had stumbled across a blog or comment regarding Julie Powell's husband Eric (I'm sorry -- I meant to doublecheck if his surname is Powell, too), and how the online writer appreciated such a mature depiction of a man in these times, strongly supportive of his wife, which seemed so few and far between.

I am hoping that such depictions are the thing that is few and far between, not the real men who are strongly supportive of their wives, nor the appreciation of them. Why, just in this one blog, I can say there are three of us women who had/have and appreciate(d) the main man in her life.

Thank you, Larry, for working nearly 90 hours/week for the past 11+ years (Books on First officially opened for business on 4 Oct 1998 after one year of renovation at 202 W First St, Dixon), and being what Carolyn could not be -- personable, local (from Walton and Amboy HS graduate) boy with world-class panache, the hardest worker alive, a voracious reader who enjoys reading for pure enlightenment and a spot-on sense of what we can offer the customers (without breaking anything including our backs, our piggybank, our word or the law).
Because he is more in tune with our would-be customers, as we worked on the business plan and then, the store itself, he described it to the banker and curious passerbys as a "miniature Barnes & Noble," because he said people could "get it" more easily that way since that's how he finally "got it," after walking into one with a Starbucks in the middle of it, on Diversey near Clark in Chicago -- a forum for exchange of ideas which included people and books. I had to chime in and say, "but better," because another quality of Larry is that he's modest.
The idea for Sauk Valley's premier and independent bookstore/coffeehouse came from an 18-year old idealist when Vassar classmate Kathryn Bing-You invited me home to Boston on break and I walked into (now gone) Harvard Bookstore/Cafe in Faneuil Hall and thought, This is cool. This is what I want.
However, Books on First would neither be premier nor independent nor in Dixon today if it weren't for Larry not only supporting but helping improve upon the then crazy idea of allowing people to sit down, look at books and get coffee & crumbs everywhere with the hopeful belief that these same people will realize they really need to buy that book and take it with them.
I tell people I didn't agree to marry him until he agreed to the idea; that's my storytelling version and I'm sticking to it. How else would I be able to say he's the third wisely patient husband in this blog?

The Weekday Gig

From time to time, someone asks about my "other life." If it is someone from Chicago, he or she would be able to see our website or now my blog or (wonders of wonders) visit Dixon and our bricks & mortar establishment or the "farmette" 12 miles south in Walton, IL.

A little more difficult is explaining my weekday gig to thoughtful people who want to make sure I stay gainfully employed to keep all of the above chugging along. As the operating companies with which I associate are designers, manufacturers and purveyors of fine diamond & gold jewelry and personalized jewelry & watches versus retailers, here are a couple of websites to peruse: www.personalized-jewelry.com [don't forget the dash!] which sells (as suggested) personalized jewelry by Hampden Corporation and www.fantasydiamond.com (an excitingly renovated site hot off the programming board!) which showcases what Fantasy Diamond has to offer. We have a beautiful new line for engagement rings & accessories called Embrace which utilizes our patented touch setting process (namebrand Endless Diamond) to create the stunning look of center stone with diamond melee so popular yet so eternal. Neither of these companies are our wonderful Trein's or Venier's right here in Downtown Dixon, although they can become a retailer. So, just ask your trusted local independent jeweler.

(By the by, just in case you're a Facebook member, you can join Fans of Books on First on Facebook, but as a dovetail off the ebooks vs printed bound books discussion, let us just say: While we appreciate and know that it's a good thing we can provide a place in cyberspace where John in North Carolina(?), Deb in Illinois and others around the country and world can meet up, keep in mind that Books on First at 202 W First St, Dixon, is the best chatroom we know, and we all would still love to see your face and hear your comments in person! Please come in during our 75 open hours/week. Additionally, the "face" of Books on First, Larry, is not a Facebook member, so he can't have a good heated discussion with you nor give you farm fresh eggs over the internet.)

An Incredibly Busy Saturday Arriving Fast

I meant to remind everyone that Larry has been agonizing over which books to order and bring to offer for sale at Nachusa Grasslands' Autumn on the Prairie, come Saturday, 19 Sep (always on 3rd Saturday of September). It's probably too late at this juncture, but you can put in your 2 cents (don't tweet him -- just call on the telephone or send an e-msg) and if we have something on the shelf, I am sure he'll be happy to oblige.

I and Bri Boyer, our newest employee, will be holding down the fort at Books on First, because there are major bicycle races happening right on the streets of Downtown Dixon, and Larry thinks all these riders and spectators are going to want to quench their thirsts -- for liquid refreshment as well as printed material -- immediately. The course comes north on Hennepin (downhill towards the river) and makes a left turn right in front of our place onto First Street. I am told that professional riders can reach speeds of 30+ miles/hr coming down that hill and at that point, a hairpin, turn. Luckily (but fingers crossed, unnecessarily), Dixon Fire Department and Katherine Shaw Bethea Hospital are both nearby. I am still trying to figure out how all these thirsty people are going to be able to cross the street to reach the store, although I am assured that there is ample time between races, so that people can walk and will not need to worry about stray or lagging participants attempting to catch up or at least finish.

Distinctive Gardens is having its chili cook-off.

And, if that weren't enough happening in one day, I will be missing the return of NIA! to Dixon, as Nichole Miller, after a summer break and lots of Sunrise Yoga on the riverfront, starts up Saturday 5:30pm class at the Traditional Wellness Center upstairs from Touch of Thai. But, you don't have to, so be sure to give Nichole and NIA a try and I'll see you there next weekend.

And after a good workout for mind & body, come to Books on First to welcome classical guitarist Michael Lich who comes to us after many years of a Saturday a.m. larger double shot sugar-free vanilla latte customer, his father, Terry saying, "You gotta hear my son play." I am so excited that we finally will hear him live. And, I hope live music lovers everywhere will come to hear him, too. (Tony Fiorini's Wrong Element, who has been at Books on First, will be at Distinctive Gardens, but while the music is different, the events are not mutually exclusive -- where do you think we're going after we close at 9pm?)

ABC News Revisits Dixon

Remember Charles Gibson's bus trip across America last fall in anticipation of the November presidential elections? He set out to feel the pulse of America and then, the economic meltdown occurred in September and in October, when he visited "a pleasant little town" called Dixon, there was something else to discuss with, among others, retirees sitting around, drinking coffee at "the local bookstore," which remains unnamed...
And a year later, in the midst of debate about whether letting Lehman fail was the mistake or whether "bailing out" many others was the error, ABC called us to gather customers for a reprise:
Rebuilding Your Retirement Savings

After 11 Sep

In the collective consciousness of this nation and most of the world, "9/11" has a certain significance. For each of us as individuals, though, it takes on a different meaning for different reasons. And, while we commemorate those who are gone and mark the first time since Pearl Harbor that there has been an attack on U.S. soil, life (and death) marches on.
Today, we want to mark one year since the passing of Charles Francis Dunphy. Larry and I miss him very much. He was a great lover of reading literature, watching baseball, discussing politics and current events, telling jokes (which he called "stories") and playing cards. Larry said he could quote from Shakespeare's Hamlet. He loved gathering the family together ("any reason for a party"). He had flaws and made mistakes, yes, but he also had the wisdom of years and experience which he generously shared and an indomitable spirit. Even blinded in one eye due to a cataract surgery gone awry, he continued to enjoy books through his wife Frances's reading. She pre-deceased him by one month (see our August blog).

And, we would like to mention the passing of Agatha Tyne, mother of Margaret -- one of Dixon's strongest supporters and a good friend since we met upon opening of Books of First and grandmother of Courtney, one of our early PT employees. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all of the family.

Just shared some time with Shelly Franz who loves mysteries and reads mainly with an EZReader, which she says is better than a Kindle. She has little use for smell of a book or feel of turning pages. She is of the argument that as long as we are all reading, why not electronically. Ahh, yes, we are in agreement there.

Let me tell you a little about our time back east Down East. Sunday before Labor Day, we flew (on a plane -- no arm-flapping necessary) out of Chicago O'Hare to Boston Logan. Met by Carolyn's maternal aunt & uncle Mary & Allan Tow, we went to the Union Oyster Bar for some great Cherrystones and Little Necks raw on the half shell. The fried clams were delicious. A lot of history within its walls, including Attorney Alan's -- after every trial, win or lose, he came to this restaurant. Having a meal here meant, "it is done." Mary very gamely played tour guide and recent historian as we walked along North End (not very much changed), the waterfront (unrecognizable except for the New England Aquarium), the Rose Kennedy Greenway (new over the Big Dig which was also before my time -- reminds me a bit of Lower Wacker Drive in Chicago) and Chinatown (quick walk-through). We stayed at the Omni Parker House (great Labor Day price via internet price shopping!), also full of history (Larry loves this stuff), but best of all, very centrally located.
We also managed in the next 24 hours to walk through the Boston Commons, Beacon Hill, Fenway Park, MFA, Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Northeastern University/Huntington Ave, Copley Square, Newbury St and Back Bay...
I had hoped to eat at No Name, having fond youthful memories of arriving with co-worker Lisa Tuttle et al. at the end of a Friday night after finishing work at the now defunct lawfirm McCabe/Gordon P.C. and buying some California sparkling at the Store24, eating, drinking, flirting with and helping the Greek waiters re-fill ketchup bottles and salt shakers. However, a bartender we asked had never heard of the place and it wasn't on any tourist map -- which probably merely means the restaurant did not pay for any advertising. Having done no prior research, I conceded that the place may have gone out of business and did not want to drag Larry all over the docks in the dark, looking for the real Boston. I do believe, though, that that would have made for an interesting story (and we all know how Larry -- not unlike his father -- enjoys being able to tell a good story). However, as you can see, I found it on the internet with recent (conflicting) comments, so, it will be a destination for next time.

Onward to Gloucester, MA, where we spent much time reading the names of all 5,800+ fishermen who died through the years, including those featured in The Perfect Storm, which occurred in 1991. You can tell that ocean fishing had become relatively safer, fishermen were taking less risks, etc, by the number of names by year on the memorial -- 1623 up through 2001. I couldn't tell if there haven't been any deaths since 2001 or no one has updated it in 7-1/2 years.
There appeared to be a miniature museum in every shanty in town, but we restricted ourselves to 1-1/2 and managed to finish the visit with a beer from Cape Ann Brewing Co for Larry and a lobster roll (my one and only on the entire trip) for me.
In Portland, ME, a wonderful city, we visited another brewpub Gritty McDuff just a couple of blocks from the harbor, supported live music by a local artist and a number of other Maine microbreweries' offerings at Andy's Old Port Pub, visited with a bookseller of used volumes Cunningham Books in Longfellow Square. Proprietor Nancy has two storefronts (like we have our West Wing) but is cutting back to one. We wish her the best of good luck.

There is at least one, maybe more, coffee roaster in Portland. We dropped by a branch store of Coffee by Design. It was a fun space on Congress, right between Longfellow Square and the art museum. I noted that beans were being sold for average $10.75/lb, not much different from our smaller selection, offered for sale 100 miles from the roaster. Their dark roast on that day was quite good, but we were a little disappointed in the double espresso.

We also stuffed in a few hours at the Portland Museum of Art which currently has a wonderful exhibition: Call of the Coast -- Art Colonies of New England. Atop that, while the permanent collection might be modest compared to other art museums, the works are well-displayed.

The crown jewel of our visit was going to Rockland, ME, where Melissa Kelly's Primo was our destination, as featured in Michael Ruhlman's The Reach of the Chef. We stopped by the Rock City Coffee & Bookshop to check it out plus confirm directions. Melissa is a good friend of our daughter Kelly Dunphy (well, ok, Larry's daughter -- see August blogs on Frances and me). She graciously led us around the compact homefarm hehind the restaurant named for Melissa's maternal Italian grandfather, housed in a 130-year old renovated & now expanded house, where they raise everything from Tamworth and Large Black hogs to butcher to honeybees to hens producing some 90 eggs daily to herbs, vegetables and flowers all used in the incredible dishes in a daily changing menu. We returned for dinner at 7:30 after checking into The Ledges by the Bay, an old-fashioned motel with rooms featuring decks overlooking the water, and had a lemon drop martini made with house-made lemoncello, great local oysters with nasturtium butter, handmade pasta with wild boar ragout, house dry-cured beef, wonderfully prepared local tuna and halibut (with a zucchini risotto that Larry practically licked the plate to finish), a tisane of fresh picked herb leaves like lemon balm accompanying housemade grapefruit & Campari sorbetto.
We sincerely thank Melissa and co-owner Price Kushner for the generosity of their time. It was a great visit.

While we were getting ready to go to dinner, we discovered our FT (position: "Larry's Favorite Employee") Brenda had attempted to call Larry at least twice in a half hour. So, we kept the mobile on after reaching only her VM and lo, and behold, she was full of exciting news: ABC network television was coming out again to follow up after dropping by approximately a year ago to get the pulse of those in Ronald Reagan's boyhood home. Again, neither Larry nor Carolyn would be present. However, we all know Brenda Spratt, who celebrates 9 years with Books on First this month, is the boss of us, anyway. We hope there'll be a moment with her on air. We believe the segment with David Muir will air on Tuesday (15 Sep) night's ABC World News with Charles Gibson.

1001 Things to Do Before the Blog Dies

It's just too too much -- updating the website, updating the community calendars, sending out e-mail alerts (besides actually reading the books and booking the live music and other events), writing this blog, Tweeting (follow us once in a great while: @booksonfirst )... all in the name of keeping you in touch with us. Please let us know what a good job we're doing (or not).

First, a disclaimer notice/confession: None of the books, people, websites, merchants, foods, recipes, restaurants, activities, towns, et al that/whom I mention/recommend/discuss have paid me to do so -- except maybe the -.02 cent net profit (technically, a loss) after expenses that we make when we sell the book or toy or the Melissa & Doug plush toy the Company gave us to give away or the wonderful Thai dessert called Red Rubies which Som gave us after a meal last Saturday.
And, my bad, I have not sought permission to do so. To date, I haven't even told them I have mentioned their product or linked to their website or will do so.

But, what's a blog for, if not to share the enthusiasm for our mattress topper and Touch of Thai? Don't answer that.

Okay, on to the real business of this blog -- books!

Recently finished (and just sold to a choir teacher visiting his in-laws here in Dixon): How Shall I Tell the Dog? by the late Miles Kington, a British humorist who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and dealt with it by writing a series of letters to his literary agent. It's got a dark humor which is actually a pretty good way to deal with impending death. And, I laughed and felt poignancy throughout the book.
I don't have a copy of it in front of me, so I can't talk to specific passages. I can mention that I liked his take and takeoff on 1000 Places to See Before You Die as well as his mention of a colleague who was diagnosed with a liver problem and told not to drink alcohol anymore. Seven years later, he was told that was a misdiagnosis but they didn't know what was the true problem and then, a few months after that, he died of what really ailed him!
Tears did not come until after reading the last letter, because the book simply ended. (Well, there was a postscript by wife or his literary agent, but I don't count that.) The abruptness reminded the reader that the writer did indeed die. I was disappointed later to learn (in this postscript/epilogue) that these were not real letters to his literary agent Gill(ian), meaning he didn't in reality send them and then, respond to her responses. He wrote a letter, imagined her response and continued from there. The device was so well done, because the only time I suspected contrivance was when he ended one letter about remembering Geoffrey (he of the no-alcohol liver non-ailment) and then, starting another letter explaining who Geoffrey was.


Economic chaos! Pirates! Angry, stupid investors! Low employee morale! Oy vey! Is this the stuff of the "near-future" which in late 1950s' terms must be NOW?
Ayn Rand is not the easiest writer to read (and at 1065 pages of 6pt type, you do get your money's worth of her sometimes pedantic style and I would not call it an "action thriller," like the publisher does), but I recommend this book if for nothing else then her greatest contribution to the iconic, that is, the answer-seeking question of the indifferent: "Who is John Galt?" In reading it, though, can one not help but feel a sense of interconnectiveness, deja vu as you would, going from front page (or home page) of today's news journals to the adventures of Dagny, Rearden, Francisco d'Anconia and of course, John Galt. Was Ayn Rand correct in predicting how our society would end up after years of people feeling entitled to the fruits of the labors of those more visionary, more risk-taking, more passionate than they? Yet, in 1957, she ends with a sense of hope and perhaps, that's how we in 2009 will see our world.