This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
The TS Eliot quotation is appropriate here. As time passes some books become better known for their film counterparts than as novels–as it is with Nevil Shute’s On the Beach. Yet despite some here and there details, the film remains faithful to the story.
Continue reading “Auld author – On the Beach by Nevil Shute”
But First a Special Announcement
The Special Announcement:
Our Sunday features continue to thrive, especially the long standing rerun and the relatively new interview segment. And what we call the Auld Author has done well, but we feel that restricting it to the fairly obscure and/or nearly forgotten is unfair to well known works, which need to be kept alive lest they fall into obscurity.
So we proudly announce that articles about famous authors and books will now be welcomed. For example, you may either extol something like Stephen King’s unabridged The Stand or even let fly against it because you feel that the short version is better. (That is an actual opinion held by yours truly.)
We believe that highlighting works that more than one person is familiar with will stimulate conversation to an even higher degree.
Still, if you do have an obscure or lost subject, we are still happy to see it come in.
One bit of caution: back in the old days, in New York City, there was a practice called “log rolling” (called that for a reason that appears lost to time), in which author friends who did reviews at different publications gave each other rave notices to plump up sales. I would never suggest that any of our esteemed contributors or readers would use this feature to tout a pal’s book if I didn’t believe that some of you are capable of it!
We hope to see your articles flood the inbox. And if there are any questions, we will be happy to answer them.
We Now Return to Regular Programming
The worst thing that can happen to an author is to become the object of assigned reading in high school. Somehow William Shakespeare continues to survive that curse, but it has been the kiss of death for historical authors who do not always deserve the “boring” label. Boring is in the yawn of the beholder and should not be an automatic reaction to something your fifth period Lit teacher has dumped into your life.
Continue reading “Week 488: The Classics and “Hey, the teacher smells like beer.””
“It’s hard to believe I exist in this place,” I tell my wife Rita.
On this trip to her hometown L. A. I’ve felt increasingly unreal. My eyes scan the ground, try to see this city at a basic level. There’s too much to take in if I raise my sight, the sheet white mist, streets lined with tents, people staggering and shouting.
Continue reading “La Cienaga Boulevard by Harrison Kim”
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“Hi,” I said when Anna-Lou finally answered the door. She looked like hell but that greatly improved when I showed her a thirty milligram bottle of Methadone. I had guessed her situation correctly and for the first time in ages I had the power to ease suffering.
“Sarah–what?” She said, confused, as she had a right to be. I imagine she experienced a moment similar to wishing for something utterly impossible and seeing it come true. In the forty years I had known her, not once had I directly addressed “her condition.”
Continue reading “The Designated Shepherd by Leila Allison”
We often run pieces that rub some persons the wrong way. Some folks are sensitive, others as Jack Nicholson once observed “can’t handle the truth.” Still, it is far better to provoke a reaction than not. Sort of like there’s no such thing as bad publicity.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Franky and Jesus by -Hugh Cron”
Who is the greatest writer ever?
Is that a loaded question?
Literally snobs will come up with the usual suspects that I’ll not mention. I can’t really as there are very few of the so called classics that I have read.
Continue reading “Week 487 – Famous Five, Charlie and Young Mr Bell!!”
(A Novel Excerpt)
Author’s Note
Gertie McDowell, a naïve young girl with a talent for misadventure, has joined a women’s wrestling troupe called Christian Ladies of Wrestling. The troupe was put together by Wanda Sue, a bank robber with a streak of religion whom Gertie met while serving prison time because she “trusted the wrong sort of fella.” The mission of the troupe is to bring folks closer to Jesus by having women posing as Christians wallop the daylights out of women posing as transgressors. Gertie’s wrestling persona is Haystacks Holly, a lustful temptress who leads married men astray. Her tag team partner, an Apache girl named Cocheta, is billed as Blasphemous Berta, an outspoken atheist who deifies witchcraft. Both girls incense Christian audiences by flaunting their unsavory lifestyles.
Continue reading “Samoa Moa by James Hanna”
1917.
In her most primitive form, Nora was nothing but an artist. Her papers were covered in sketches, an arch of flowers in one corner, life-like copies of butterflies sketched into another. Every pen in the house was out of ink, every pencil leveled into nothing but a stubby eraser.
Continue reading “The Radium Girls by Chloe Hehir.”
This week we take a deeper look into the mind of site friend and excellent contributor Steven French. To date, no one has gone Turtle on us; everyone has replied brilliantly, as has Steven who is a relative newcomer to LS, but a person whose impact has already been widely appreciated.
Continue reading “Interview Steven”
(As for the image, Elliot is on vacation this week)
Maybe I’m Amazed
I live by the water–by name, the Puget Sound, a cold and unforgiving northern sea connected to the Pacific Ocean; abundant with life, ghosts and sources of amazement. When I was small I’d amaze myself with the idea that I could get in a row boat anywhere on the Sound and proceed to China without having to touch land once. I dismissed a nagging voice that informed me that I’d likely drown long before reaching the Strait of Juan de Fuca; nagging voices are for grown ups. And although I’ve dealt with the Sound in one way or another nearly everyday of my life, I do not know how to swim beyond the sort of “floating stroke” peculiar to corpses. Cold northern seas will kill an unprotected Olympic swimmer just as fast as any non-aquatic type of person; thus the skill is as futile as wearing an asbestos suit for a walk on the sun. But the sea and surroundings are excellent places to spice up reality through what I like to call “self amazement.”
Continue reading “Week 486: Beware of the Amazing Bogey-Duck”
literally stories 