Monday, March 30, 2009

Little Trip to the Prairie

Click here to see a fun YouTube clip to get you in the mood for Easter!

Wasn't that fun! If you liked that one, try this. In the search field at the top of YouTube, type in Howard's Big Dig. I tried to embed the videos for you, but haven't figured out how. Maybe next time!

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My morning ritual involves toast, coffee, and frantic switching among the three major morning shows and local news. This morning, as always, bad news took center stage...stabbings, random attacks on innocent people, missing children, foreclosures. Even the local station led with accounts of weekend traffic accidents, and robberies. Enough already! In what way does other people's sadness help us? Starting tomorrow, I will wake up with 6 A.M. reruns of "The Golden Girls" and "Mayberry RFD." I will share my morning joe with Blanch, Dorothy, Sophia and Rose as they eat cheesecake and talk about their carefree lives in the Florida sunshine. Floyd Thebarber (yes, I believe his last name truly is "Thebarber") will rant about the town's plans to put up a parking meter right in front of his shop, surly cutting down on his bustling business of cutting all the heads in Mayberry, sweeping away the tickley bits and patting on tonics. Those sound like better ways to leave pleasant dreams behind and step into my day.

On Saturday night, I escaped the harbingers of gloom and doom and spent three relaxing hours at Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion show at Appleton's PAC. There was no rolling laughter, or uninhibited belly laughs that night...just a theatre filled with relaxed faces of all ages, taking in the gentle wit, and stories reminding us that there is good in the world, and that good is right under our noses.

But, let me start a little further back. We had dinner at a Mexican Catina in Neenah called Zacateca...best salsa ever! Our server happened to be the new owner, so we got top notch treatment. He even re-positioned the ridiculously huge TV set so I didn't have to strain my neck to watch the Ricky Martin videos! I started the night clean, but before long, salsa rolled down my shirt, leaving a telltale red trail. I knew I would have to sit in the theatre all night with my winter jacket tightly buttoned. Shortly after the spillage, our server stopped by. His heavy accent added to the authenticity of the meal, but when when he asked "Do you care for dessert?" I thought he said "Can I wash your shirt." I figured that either he was being a bit too forward, or he was offering a unique service due to the cuisine's characteristic messiness.

Episode 2! It's PHC, right? How fancy-pants can that be, right? That's what I thought, and so I figured jeans (clean ones) would be OK, - after all , the star goes on stage in red socks and red, suede Adidas. Boy, was I wrong. Bling! Everywhere. Bling! Blinding Bling! Not much I could do, so Chris and I grabbed a table in the lobby, and waited for the doors to open. Wouldn't you know, a fancy couple decided to join us. She was wearing some sort of white animal pelt, and he sported a wrinkle-free, (and stain free) crisp, white shirt, YSL tie, British driving cap, and camel overcoat. But, they turned out to be the nicest people, and I am sorry I didn't get their names. The Mr. was loaded with Ole and Lena jokes while the Mrs. wife sat quietly with that "Oh no, here he goes again" look in her eyes. Turns out they are from Green Bay, and know several people in Manitowoc. They attend the Manitowoc symphony, and the Lakeshore Wind Ensemble performances, and spoke highly of our downtown. They said they'd stop by the store to visit on their next trip through. I hope they do.

Now, on to the show. If you've listen to A Prairie Home Companion on public radio, you pretty much have the picture. Lots of nice music, and casual storytelling. Nothing fancy, or big, just simple humor. On Saturday, Keillor counted on his audience being highly culturally literate; the show was heavily laden with skits based on great works of literature, and satirical comments about the complexities of literary fiction. He seamlessly incorporated four local musical acts into the show. What I enjoyed best was watching the show biz part of the production. The stage manager appeared several time in a headset, to place, or move set pieces as needed. Guest performers could be seen waiting in the wings, and the sound technicians' table was on stage right where I could watch them fiddle with the mic balances.
Garrison Keillor is not a young guy, yet he did two three-hour shows on Saturday, with a casual half-hour Q&A between them. I was at the 8:30 show, which he kept fresh by making last minute substitutions..different stories, different songs...than the first show. There were some fun cat and mouse interactions, where other cast members tried to anticipate where he was going next and , guessing wrong, worked hard to find their places and to match his stride.
Summer in these parts is packed with great escape opportunities, many right here at home...Metro Jam, Acoustic Fest, Krazy Daze, weekly band concerts, Peter Quince Performing Compny's annual musical, and our own Tom Drill's hometown, riverside talent extravaganza , showtime. If you're up for a road trip, check out the quality production at Peninsula Players www,peninsulaplayers.com.
*****What am I reading? Honestly, I'm exploring the world of graphic novels. It's not going well. I need a kid to explain them to me.
Check back later this week. I have a post from guest blogger, Steve Head, queued up to go...but it's the end o' the month and there are bills to pay first. GRRRRR!


Thursday, March 26, 2009

Spring Thaw Mystery Report by guest blogger Steven Head

I just finished my 4th C.J. Box mystery novel, “Winterkill”, featuring Joe Pickett, Wyoming Game Warden. I started reading Box based on the recommendation of fellow Wyoming mystery writer Craig Johnson. Box is a good writer, able to maintain suspense, develops good characters although his villains are uni-dimensional, and incorporate environmental and morality issues.

Box writes from the 3rd person perspective so the reader can experience the story through more than the eyes of the main character. I have to confess a preference for first person narrator. Hammett, Chandler, and Ross Macdonald, the father, son, and holy ghost of the American mystery genre, all employed first person. I think it nutures a bonding between reader and detective that is harder to achieve with 3rd person.



One of the things I like about the Joe Pickett character is that he makes mistakes. A hunter takes his pistol away from him during an arrest, he tickets the Governor of Wyoming for a license infraction, and a guy he arrests handcuffs him to his steering wheel. Like most good detectives he is able to use his powers of observation and logic to see what others do not and in the process free the wrongly accused, disprove a suicide theory, and outsmart more than one bad actor.



The thing I dislike about the Pickett series is the integral involvement of his family, especially his daughters. I do not mind the frequent presence of the mother-in-law and the unstable dynamics that creates with his wife. But placing his elementary school aged children in danger in every story seems wrong. A mystery reader expects the main character, or the sidekick, to find him/herself in danger. And when used judiciously the girlfriend, wife, or child. But not every time. And not when he uses those threats to justify lethal actions. But when the villain is a cardboard character the death is just not as real as a well drawn character. Maybe Box has moved beyond this approach in his later novels, but I’m not sure I want to find out.



It is the skilled author that can sustain interest in a detective series. I faithfully followed Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Milhoun alphabet books until E or maybe F. Like Ross Macdonald, who Grafton openly acknowledges including the use of his fictional California town of Santa Teresa in her series, the names and circumstance of Grafton’s tales change but there is the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu.



So far I have not had that experience with author John Sandford and Lucas Davenport in the “Prey” series. Another example, from the international espionage genre, is Len Deighton and the Bernard Sampson series of (Berlin) Game, (Mexico) Set, (London) Match, Hook, Line, Sinker, Faith, Home, Charity. I want to keep reading about Sampson and at the same time recognize the series had reached a logical conclusion. Deighton used the first person narrative in the first 8 books, and used the final installment to look back over the series from different perspectives. Showing everything was not necessarily what it seemed.

And of course the Jim Chee/Joe Leephorn series by Tony Hillerman always left me counting the days until the next book.

Let me know if there is another good series I should investigate.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

I'm Gonna Get Me a Twittering Bluebird!



What a day I had last Wednesday! Not only did I have most of the day off, there a promise of spring in the air. I stopped to chat with Jim, down at Dr. Freud's, and picked up some fun, new music. Later that day, my neighbor arrived with a gift. He made for me a bluebird house! His wife mentioned that I had never seen a bluebird, so he set about making five houses. I'm gonna get me a bluebird. I can't wait.
My research tells me they are shy little things, and have very specific requirements about where they take up residence. The house can't be too high or too low, and the wood on their dwelling must remain unfinished. I'm glad I read that. I had visions of lovely azure walls with subtle, but happy wallpaper gracing the foyer. In addition to simple decor, bluebirds like privacy. They won't move into a house that is too close to trees, other birdhouses, or buildings. Looks like the condo will be nailed to a post and set up smack dab in the middle of my backyard. I'll let you know when the first family moves in, and the twittering and tweeting begins.

While I'm on that subject, can anyone explain Twitter to me, please? I have read about it; I have read Twitter blogs; The Today Show did a segment on this on Thursday, and I still don't get it. Granted, I am resistant to technology, my first serious encounter with a computer being while writing my Masters thesis many years ago. I was still proofreading (yes, Terri! I do proof occasionally) the night before my final, unbound copy was due. Each day, I found a phrase to sharpen, or a chart that wasn't quite centered, or something that needed bolding. Really, I should have just said "It's done, " but at the 11th hour, I took one last look, and, sure enough, an error that wasn't there the day before suddenly barred it's teeth, snarled, and challenged me to ignore it. Already tired and frustrated from the final days of trying (and obviously failing) to prepare a perfect draft, nervous about my presentation and the potential grilling at the hands of an unforgiving, uber brainiac panel... I did the most logical thing I could think of. I threw my mouse across the room.
Did I think that would hurt the mouse? No! Did I think my little outburst would make me feel better? Yes! Did I know that a mouse is vulnerable when meeting a brick wall head-on? No. Well, there I was, at midnight, with a glaring error that had to be fixed, and no way to do it because an alternate personality took possession of my mind and mutilated my mouse. Perhaps there are ways of using a keyboard without a mouse, but I sure didn't know about that, so again, I did the most logical thing I could think of. I picked up the phone and called a co-worker...and a new mouse was delivered in the middle of the night.

That began my love affair with technology. I am assuming you read the dripping sarcasm in that last statement. Circumstances have forced me to learn some basic skills, but there is great angst in the doing. "You have to have a website" someone told me. Do you know how pricey it is to have someone design one? Holy Toledo. So, with the help of a computer savvy friend, I learned enough to put together an informative website. It doesn't change often, because I almost always lose links when publishing it, and end up sending out a tearful S.O.S. If the website wasn't enough, I was informed that I had to have a blog. "How can you not have a blog?" I was asked. I started blogging, as you know. Honestly, I still question why I do this, and just when I have convinced myself to shut it down, someone unexpected will say, 'Hey, your last post was sort of fun!" Then the wheels start spinning, and once again I set about making lists of topics for future posts.

But this Twitter thing! Really! I will not do it. After reading several Twitter blogs..local, political, business, celeb...I come away amused, but still confused. You Tweet to tell others what you are doing right now. OK. Yesterday, someone wrote, "I am eating a ham sandwich." Why do I, why do any of us, need this information? Are we not already so overloaded with info that some days we just want to put up a shield that will deflect it all as far away as possible. For me, Twittering would be just more noise in an already cacophonous world. You will not catch me Twittering.

However, the evolution of language prompted by technology is fascinating , isn't it? Remember when George Bernard Shaw, (Pygmalion, Major Barbara) thought we needed a universal language, so he invented one called Esperanto? He claimed that the structure and grammar would be easier to learn than English. I spent some time with it...terribly confusing. I know that English is confusing, but we're used to it, or "usetavit," as my grade school friend, Jean, used to say. Whoever thought it up -English, that is - tried to apply Latinate rules, and the transfer didn't work out so well, hence every grammar rule has a million exceptions.

Today's teens have managed to do what Shaw couldn't. They have invented a language. The intricacies of their verbiage can be unraveled by anyone who cares to, and that, I figure, is the beauty of it for kids. Few people care to. They finally have something with the appearance of exclusivity. Lauren Myracle (pronounced "miracle" ) has written a young adult trilogy in text language. There is some standard English sprinkled throughout, but just when you think you're on to something, the key element is in IM vocab.
There may be practical applications for IM'ing, and Twittering thousands of short character tweets each day, but for me, I am happy with the Selectric typewriter, and my rotary dial phone. While neither are realistically useful , they do make fine paperweights in this supposedly paperless world.
*****The University of Wisconsin Press sent me an advance copy of Sweet and Sour Pie by Dave Crehore. Dave grew up in Manitowoc in the 1950's, and his book is filled with sweet, and gentle stories about his life here. The Crehore homestead was located on River Road in Manitowoc Rapids. He attended the small school in Rapids. His book relates funny little tales about growing up with a party line phone, and borrowing a cat to kill the uninvited mice who left what his mother thought were caraway seeds in kitchen drawers. He also solved the origins of the local phrase "enso" for me. Dave will be visiting our store sometime in May. I'll let you know when we have a specific date and time.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Books, Bunnies, and Breaking News


I have lots to share this week, including the fascinating journey planned by my new friend, Loreen Niewenhuis. Loreen in a writer in love with nature, and Lake Michigan in particular. She is addicted to books and bookstores - in particular, indie stores. Loreen in trekking around Lake Michigan, and stopping at indie stores along the way. Her blog chronicles her adventure as she makes her bookstore stops, highlighting her hoofing with photos of cityscapes, breathtaking sunsets, and smiling faces. You can follow along at laketrek.blogspot.com. A recent postcard from her promises a stop at LaDeDa sometime this summer. I'll keep you posted.

**********Last week, I started reading Jane Hamilton's new book, Laura Rider's Masterpiece. It's a skinny little thing, only 214 pages, easy to read in a dedicated afternoon or two. So why am I only on page 82? I'll tell you. I do not want this book to end. At first, I thought this was quite a departure for one of Wisconsin's most respected writers, but I'm not so sure I agree with myself on that any longer. Although the cover, and the initial scenes hint at a pulpy style work of fiction, the truth is, this is Hamilton at her best. Some passages are so visually stunning that I can hardly believe I am reading a book, and not viewing a painting. She weaves these episodes meticulously amid a teasingly provocative plot that she has sprinkled with some uncharacteristically whimsical passages. What's she's saying with all this, I haven't yet deduced; after all, I am less than halfway through.


Here's what I know so far - Jenna Faroli, a renowned, and somewhat enigmatic public radio host, is married to a judge who knows just about everything. My favorite passage blames his erudition on an "abuse of literature." Hamilton writes " His addiction was a joke in the family - Frank the user - the biblioholic - and it was also something of a problem. He read, his wife thought, pathologically. It was fine to read the Russian novels again and again, fine to read criticism, the belletristic essay, military history, science, biography, collections of letters, and occasional grocery-store mystery. It was not fine that early in the marriage they had had strife when Jenna banned him from reading at dinner ... and that she had once caught him in the shower, one hand thrust from the curtain, reading her father's first- edition copy of Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy. She likes to tell her friends, and on occasion, her radio audience, how frightened Frank became if there wasn't printed material near his person." This wittiness is new, fresh and welcome.
Maybe I will finish this week. KT, the director of Midwest Booksellers Association sent an email about a a book I "just have to read." It was followed shortly thereafter by a package containing a copy of The Moonfloweer Vine," by Jetta Carleton. The cover calls it a rediscovered classic. I'll read that next.


**********Emily update...Our Emily made a quick spring break/rest stop in Manitowoc this week. I can hardly believe she is nearly done with her first year at Yale. Two more to go, and then she will have her MFA in Theatre from the country's most prestigious theatre training program...the same program that gave us Meryl Streep and Glen Close, among other notables. She just finished performing in "Jelly's Last Jam" a show celebrating the music of Jelly Roll Morten. Emily was the only Caucasian in the show! If you go to YouTube and punch in the show title, you will find a nice rehearsal reel, and a bit of an interview with ET. Anyway, she had to do a handstand in the show She fell on her head during rehearsal and wound up with a concussion. The show must go on, I guess, so she didn't attend do it until after the run. The delay led to some other issues, but she's fine now.


This is Emily as Opehlia in Hamlet in the UShakes '97 season. She teamed with the same actor last year at the Milwaukee Rep last season, and be will playing opposite him in Henry V this summer.

The day after her semester ends, Emily flies off the Utah, where she will be performing with the Tony Award winning Utah Shakespeare company. She has leads in The Secret Garden, and Henry V. Her second year at Yale begins the day after her Utah season closes. I fear we won't be seeing too much more of our Emily until she hits to boards on Broadway.





This is one of my favorite Easter books. The story is charming and a little silly, and the illustrations are by the talented Barbara Cooney of Miss Rumphius fame. Check it out. Every year, when we put together our Easter display, we spend time giggling at this book. Look at the third bunny from the left. She is totally accessorized - Easter bonnet, bright, stylish bag, modest (albeit ill-fitting) high heels - totally accessorized, and totally naked! How fun!

*********The subtle signs of spring have arrived - runny nose, burning, itchy, and stinging eyes. If truth be told, that's the real reason I haven't been doing too much reading. If the severity of these signs are any indication of anticipated foliage, we are in for a beautifully lush spring display.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Rant...Rant Cancelled...Rant Reinstated!

WARNING! WARNING! DANGER!


If you are in my book group, DO Not read this!


I warned you that a rant was coming about this book, and I am glad that I didn't act upon that too quickly. To me, this is still a rant worthy book, and after finishing, I wanted to call the author and holler "Give me my Sunday afternoon back." But then, I got to thinking about all the millions of readers who have made Jodi Picoult one of the top-selling authors of all times, and I thought it best not to insult any of them with my inane opinions. After all, some of you reading this might be fans. After reading two Picoult books in their entirety, and parts of several others, I have concluded that I am not a fan, and that's OK.


Eliminating the great Picoult trashing which was planned for this post, left me pondering on to write. I had nothing for you. The past week was a no-lifer. I vacuumed and washed the floors in the store. That's about all I have to say. See ya next week!

Just kidding. Generally, I am on the lookout for odds and ends to share, but I just had a nice, lazy week of work, and lots of reality TV. My perceived waste of a Sunday made me think about what I enjoy in a novel. Some people like plot driven novels; I prefer those that are character driven. Take the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath, for example. Are those not rich characters? Steinbeck reveals them to us through their interactions with others, through their internal conflicts, and through their voices. Nothing annoys me more than a novel where all the characters sound alike. The dialogue tags could be "said Mary," or "said Jim...or Penelope...or King Tut." doesn't matter. They all speak with the same cadence, make the same vocabulary choices, and discuss issues with identical depth of thought (if any).

For me, a novel must have skillful, dynamic rhythm in its sentence structure, like a fine piece of music. My piano playing days tell me that is called rubato, a sort of push and pull that causes tension, strain, then some relief from the tension, often followed by a rushing build to the next scene. I sure don't want to read a novel with multiple sub-plots, many of which are red-herrings, and find they are all given equal importance, and written in the same, predictable, gentle, rolling, boring tempo. I want the words to pull me along, not rock me into the oblivion of simply turning pages to get to the next tangent wandering off of sub-plot 14. Playwrights excel at this. Poe and Hawthorne knew a thing or two about word musicality, as did Jane Austen. But the writer whose language I can get lost in time and time again is Milne. For me, Winnie-the-Pooh never gets old. Noel Coward does a great job in this area, as you would expect, as do many of our contemporary British authors.

There is much more I appreciate in fine writing, but you don't want to hear any more on that, do you? As far as plot is concerned, I enjoy it when there is one. If my character and language needs are met, I can handle just about any plot, with one exception...a plot with too many coincidences. Those bad soap opera stories wind up as Lifetime Channel TV movies. This is where I will do a mini-rant on Change of Heart. The main character's husband and daughter are murdered. Tragic, to be sure, but does she also have to be pregnant? Wasn't the double murder enough? Then, the priest who counsels the convicted murderer just happened to be on the jury that sentenced him to death eleven years ago. Oh, and I can't forget that the murderer once robbed the priest of a precious photo of his grandfather. Apparently, the murderer lacked a grandpa to fish with, and his life went down the tubes because of it.

There's more - not in the coincidence category, just "Boy-this-book-sure-is-overwritten" sort of stuff. Some believe that the murderer is the Messiah -don't want to get into details here,- just trust me. His team of supporters includes a Catholic, a Jewish lawyer with a rabbi father, an atheist, and a gnostic. While I would have appreciated the author allowing me to make up my own mind on whether or not the killer was or wasn't a miracle worker, she just couldn't let me do it. Right up until the end, I thought I was going to get away with forming my own opinion, but then she had to hit me on the head with a last sentence that told me exactly what she wanted me to think. Thank you, Jodi.

OK. I have to stop. I am nearing the full out rant line, and I don't want to do that. I will save that for my book discussion group later in the month. Even though this book and I did not get along, the author has given us plenty to discuss: the death penalty, organ transplants, cell memory, and the role of belief in a higher power in shaping our dreams, our fears, our tolerance levels, and our ideas on forgiveness and redemption.

In the meantime, I continue to plug away at Cesar Milan's dog training book. I think my dog, GB, should learn some manners. She does not. I think I get to be the boss, She disagrees. We are at an impasse. Hence...her return to doggie boot camp. Off the furniture. No treats. No free scratches.


I'm done with The Hunger Games. Young adult novels are the best. (Tom M. if you're reading this and want my ARC of this book, let me know.) Because I am a "Survivor" fan, I enjoyed the strategizing used by the twenty-four young adults fighting to the death in a state sponsored TV show. But the concept of kids killing kids....beyond troubling.

Here is a book I can't wait to dig into. Don't you love the retro, pulp fiction cover?
You know Jane Hamilton, right? The Book of Ruth was one of Oprah's first picks for her TV book club that got the whole world reading again. You know that Jane lives in Wisconsin, right? Yup, as a matter of fact, she lives near an apple orchard next to my friend Cary's parents. Cary frequently spends some holiday time at the Hamilton house. Laura Rider's Masterpiece appears to be a departure from the heavy duty, issue oriented studies Ms. Hamilton is known for. I'll let you know.

*****We had our Heart-A-Rama tech meeting on Sunday which means the show is coming up fast now. The directors met with the scene behinders to talk about our individual needs for the show. So many components have to come together to make this show happen. For example, our costume chair, Jill, told us that we have requested a total of seventy-two different costumes this year...including several wolves, a frog, an egg, and I think I heard her mention a foaming bring suit!

This is fun! I was sitting next to someone who, in an attempt to not embarass me, whispered, "Bev, you're wearing two different socks." And I was! One black with blue dots, the other black with blue stripes. Sometime you gotta live on the wild side, and besides, I was among theatre folk! I replied, "I have another pair at home just like these." I am 100% serious when I tell you that he then informed me that if I "switched them around" I would have two matching pairs! Aren't friends grand!