On Black Friday, Bargain-shopping, and Possessions

I woke up yesterday morning, coupons all organized, ready to hit the post-Thanksgiving craziness known as Black Friday. And then I read the an op ed in the Boston Globe—"Alice’s Adventures in Retail Land" by Joan Wickersham. In this piece, Ms. Wickersham describes through her fictional Alice several ploys used by retailers to sucker us into buying more. There I saw one of my recent retail pilgrimages described—buy $100 worth and we’ll give you an x% discount (or buy $100, and we’ll take $25 off your bill.)

My first foray into one of my favorite women’s clothing stores, I actually resisted because I couldn’t find anything I wanted to bring my $80 full price purchase up to $100 (and I was already getting a discount). But the more I thought about the things I tried on that day, the more I wanted them. When I returned home to no-tax-on-clothing Massachusetts, I succumbed to bargain #2. In this case, it was spend $150 and we’ll give you $50 off. Sounds like a 33% discount-not bad, especially if the goods have already been marked down—but that is if you buy exactly $150 worth. Otherwise, the percent discount goes down. However, for another $20, I could now enter the rarefied realm of a “special customer” (having shopped in this store previously over several years and racked up a certain number of points), and forever after would always get at least a 5% discount. Of course, the item I wanted and eventually chose was more than $20. At this point, without a calculator, it was difficult to figure out whether or not I obtained a better deal. But I was hooked, with no chance of being tossed back into the river.

The point is that this kind of bait (and I avoid using the word “scam” here because the conditions are all up front) lures us into spending more than we intended. Not that I wasn’t aware of what was happening at the time. But sitting in the comfort of my kitchen, away from the huge adrenaline rush of making the perfect purchase, I could see that braving the Black Friday crowds was essentially pointless, especially as I really didn’t need anything and had given up most gift giving a couple of years ago. The true bargains are few and available only to those ready to wait in line with 1000’s of others at 4am. There will be other sales, and some of them may be better. They will certainly involve fewer crowds. Of course, I knew that the editorial would prompt only a brief moment of sanity, not a sea change in my behavior.

Some people abhor shopping. Although I am not a shopaholic, I do not hate shopping. It’s genetic, I suppose. My mother, who successfully managed to downsize at age 60 for a move across the ocean, managed in the next 30 years to fill up her closets again. When she moved into a nursing home the last year of her life, we realized she had never given or thrown away a single item of clothing in all that time, including several hideous polyester pants and vest sets, from the 1970s, when she was a good 20 pounds heavier than her later in life weight. And these, kept by a person, who deeply cared about appearing fashionable until she was 90. When she could no longer shop in stores, she hit the mail order catalogues, and if she were alive today, no doubt she would enjoy the ease of on-line shopping.

As one of the people involved in cleaning out my mother’s apartment, I was inspired sufficiently to come home and clean out my own closets on a regular basis. But I fear there is still more incoming than outgoing. Staying away from sources of temptation is more difficult than it once was. The daily deluge of coupons in my email inbox can be deleted with the click of a button, but it’s not always that easy. What if this is the week I decide to buy that new computer, or the scarf to go with odd color winter coat I bought? I am capable of some rational thinking. Because my office is at home, and I have fewer meetings these days, I no longer allow myself to look at suits. (My last suit purchase a couple of years ago was a huge mistake. I went into another one of my favorite women’s clothing stores to buy a pair of pants in a particular color, and there happened to be a matching jacket—both were substantially reduced. I have worn the pants a number of times, but never the jacket. A bargain you never use is not a bargain.)

My husband, who is not much of a shopper, has come up with the perfect 21st century invention for today’s consumer, who may be concerned that they have run out of space for their purchases—rental storage rooms, like the U-Haul ones where we store our junk, except you can take your new purchases there immediately. Why waste time driving them home?

I hope it never comes to that. But old habits are hard to change. I think about a former colleague of mine, who each year would give away her small wardrobe and replace it with new items, each of which became well used over the course of that year. I admire that. I envy that. But as much as I long to rid myself of things, I can’t bring myself to behave that way. There is something thrilling about excavating through one’s belongings and finding a long forgotten item. Maybe one day ten years from now I will unearth one of those items I bought in my recent expedition, and it will feel fresh and new. And as much as I still dine out on the story of my mother’s 30 bags of clothes we gave to charity, I was delighted that she had kept her beautiful outfits circa 1960, both vintage and fashionable, thanks to the success of “Mad Men.”

I hope I can find some happy medium, where the incoming purchases are reserved for the needed or the special (regardless of whether or not they are bargains), where the outgoing starts to surpass the incoming, where my increasingly precious time and money are spent on activities that are ultimately more satisfying, and where Black Friday is just a day of rest after a large meal.

On Random Thoughts about Flying

The Third Half Muse is on route to a conference and is not thinking about her novels. Once, long ago flying used to be an adventure, in the good sense. So to make the best of a situation, she makes a few observations. Feel free to add or disagree.

• Luggage without wheels has become the exception, even for big, burly guys.
• You can get a lot of exercise walking from one gate to another, BUT
• Airline “snacks” (the kind you pay for) are designed to increase waistlines (caramel popcorn, chips, etc.).
• To get through security, you practically need to undress.
• Airports provide a good cross section of humanity.
• How many jobs were lost when airlines stopped serving meals to coach class?
• What ever happened to butter rum Lifesavers?
• Jeans are the pant of choice for non-business passengers.
• The people strolling through Atlanta Aiprot seem less weighty overall than statistics would suggest
• If you used TV or the movies as your guidepost, you'd think that adult women always wear heels when travelling—this number seems closer to one in ten.
• On automatic flush toilets, to quote Ellen Degeneres, “I'll decide when I'm ready.”
• How much longer will the bank of entirely unused payphones exist?
• Baggage costs discriminate against the elderly, the small (me) and other less than abled passengers. They should charge people for trying to cram oversize bags in the overheads.
• Whatever happened to loading a plane from the back—wasn't that more efficient than the “zone” system?
• I miss non-stops, half full flights, bargain airfares; it's small compensation being able to print your boarding pass at home and check your flight status without phoning the airport.
• As bad as it can be, I also miss in flight meals. If your stomach rules you (as does mine), you really have to plan ahead.
• Planes are one of the few places where complete strangers feel comfortable revealing their life stories.
• Cats do not like being confined to tiny crates for hours.
• There are no atheists during air turbulence. (Who said that?}
• Flying is tedious.
• Flying makes me drowsy.
• Flying drains me of all creativity, BUT
• Flying is a rare opportunity for downtime.
• Flying still feels like a miracle. Forget the science, how do planes stay up in the air?
• Looking down on a scenic vista is still a thrill.
• We put up with all of it because it gets us where we want to go.

On Revisiting Old Writing

For the last couple of months, I’ve been immersed in revising a young adult novel I started longer ago than I care to reveal. It’s been an interesting journey that has revealed something about my evolution as a writer and about the staying power of an idea. It’s been like visiting old friends that one hasn’t seen in ages—the core personalities are the same, but some of the rough edges are worn away. (Have I used this phrase before? It has a déjà vu quality to it…)

It wasn’t always a young adult novel. In fact, I had no idea what it was when I first began it. That summer I was working on my “qualifying paper” for my doctoral dissertation, and the urge to write something completely different came over me. It was sort of a “busman’s holiday” (nice English expression), but I found it very cathartic. Inspired by a dream I had when I was 16, the story is based on some experiences from high school. Maybe there was something about reaching the last stages of my doctoral degree (at a somewhat advanced age) that took me back to my school days. Maybe I needed to get past something. Maybe I wanted to rewrite some of my history.

I came late to writing fiction, unless you count the hours and hours I spent as a child concocting and illustrating tales. A novel was an ambitious place to start my fiction career, but I had no desire to write short stories. I never finished the novel that first time round. Life took over (in particular, the dissertation itself, and then a new career, post dissertation). But five years later I came back to it, tweaking it, fleshing it out a little more. Then I took another turn with my writing and began a screenplay with a friend on a whole other subject. Meanwhile, I began to study story structure while learning about screenplay writing. I also learned about revealing character through dialogue since interior monologue generally doesn’t work well in film.

But I still didn’t couldn’t let go of that original idea. A few years after starting the screenplay, I took my first fiction class. Through that I reshaped the first four chapters of the novel and received feedback. Then more life happened that interfered with my ability to be creative, and more years passed. Finally, I embarked on what has now been a steady period of writing for the past five years. It began by revisiting the YA novel, which I abandoned for the fourth time to pursue something that an editor told me was more “marketable.”

Two large writing projects (and a number of shorter stories) later, I’ve come full circle but with three significant differences. 1) I know a lot more about writing now. 2) Young adult fiction changed, and now what might have been risque when started it has become acceptable. 3) I have a writers’ group and other sources of support, so that I have company along the way.

What I wrote all those years ago isn’t appalling, but it needs a lot of tender loving care. I should probably have started over, as the revision is taking me far longer than writing something new would have. All the little voices in my head from all the classes I’ve taken and the critiques I have received speak to me as I write—urging me to show not tell, inviting me to provide a significant detail, asking me to slow down or speed up. Sometimes it’s hard to discard the original narrative.

Here’s one example of changes made between the original version and the most recent. This is the opening of the story, which is set in the early 1960s.

Original: Amelia Wade, or Amy as she insisted on being called, walked up the stairs to school, with a mixture of excitement and dread. Both had found their way to her stomach. The first day of school once again. It couldn't be worse than last year. Though she feared the condition might be permanent, a small shred of optimism told her she had reached her depths as a sophomore, and it was only up from here on in. Anyway, eleventh grade felt like the beginning of the end of school. Next year she would be applying to college. College would save her from all of this.

2010:
Amy Wade exited the Number 24 bus in front of the crimson and white sign that read in clean, bold letters, “Friends Day School, established in 1864,” the bus driver said, "Cheer up. It can't be that bad."

How did he know? Strangers did that to her all the time. "Smile", they would say as she was walking down the street. What if she had just broken up with her boyfriend? Not that she ever had one. Or failed an exam? Not that she ever did. But it really annoyed her. People should mind their own business.

Both versions reveal something about character and about Amy’s state of mind this first day of school. In the first one, we learn sooner about Amy’s age and her goal of just wanting this stage of her life to be over. The second is more rooted in place and has more detail. She is reacting to something specific (in this case, the bus driver).

The above represents some small struggles I’ve had. Some changes involved more major restructuring. I added a third voice in the last iteration (there were two originally). I’ve kept that configuration, but I know that two of the voices aren’t as clear as the other. In particular, I need to create a credible voice for my somewhat wounded male adolescent. I also removed some extraneous characters and had some significant events happen to the main and major secondary characters rather than to characters we don’t care about. I’ve ratcheted up the tension between the happenings of the external world (civil rights, in particular) and the internal world of the school and class. A big challenge is to make the story and characters seem both universal and timeless and of its time. I know how I want it to end, but there are gaping holes to be filled (the murky middle).

What I love about writing novels is trying to make all the pieces of the puzzle work together, and it is also what is demanding and sometimes frustrating. Every change creates a possible rupture somewhere else. Maybe I should have learned to master (if one can use that word with a straight face) shorter forms of fiction first. But I love living with my characters, helping to solve their dilemmas and mine as a writer at the same time. And one day, I hope that we will all be ready to move on. But sometimes I wonder if years from now when my memory is fading, I will be convinced that this story I spent so many years on will seem as real to me as any of my life experiences and the frienships as genuine. Will the truth even matter if that’s what makes me happy?

On Musings about the Boston Book Festival

Yesterday I attended the second annual Boston Book Festival. Actually, technically this is the second year of the new Boston book festival. For many years, Boston had one sponsored by the Boston Globe. It was a windy and chilly, but bright autumnal day, and the organizers should feel proud of what they accomplished in a relatively short space of time. The five events I attended went off with only minor hitches (usually related to microphones), the time-keeping was impeccable, the breadth and number of offerings was generous and thoughtful, and the quality of the moderating was outstanding (overall). And best of all, it was free. Here are some random learnings and observations from my day.

• According to David Shields, author of Reality Hunger, (in which he declares that the novel is dead), we are obsessed with reality because we experience hardly any of it. (Not sure I agree with it, but it is food for thought.) (Apparently, word of the novel’s demise date back to 1925.)
• The novel is not yet dead, but it may be women who are keeping it alive (consider the number of women in book clubs compared to the number of men).
• Check out • Check out The Electronic Literature Collection (vols 1 and 2) to see what approaches are being taken towards writing in the digital age. (Reference, Nick Montfort)
• Good quote from David Foster Wallace: “The best writing constructs a bridge across the abyss of human loneliness.”
• Question: Do we always have to be “advancing” something for it to be worthwhile? Is novelty necessarily a worthwhile goal?
• According to Daphne Kalotay, the novel may return to its 19th century form (think Dickens, with its fast pace, think Tolstoy with reality coming at you every second).
• Assessment of the MFA in writing—“Death by craftsmanship” (David Shields)
• Churches, with their vaulted ceilings, make good venues for discussing ideas.
• No matter how loud you think your voice is, when you have a large crowd (or an audience that spills over into the hallway to hear you), you need to use a microphone.
• Four good themes for Young Adult novels: fitting in, being true to oneself, standing up for what you believe in, finding love.
• Adolescent modes: hypersensitivity, sense of mystery/new discoveries, deep questioning.
• Joyce Carol Oates has an obsessively dark view of the world. Although she is a contemporary literary lion, I confess never to have read anything written by her, and I don’t think I care to based on this brief exposure. Life is too short.
• Fifteen minutes is long enough to read something from one of your works. We can buy it or borrow it from the library if we want to read it. Get to the Q and A, please.
• Don’t ask fiction writers about a) whether they believe in God, or b) whether they are victims of violence. If they want to talk about these things, they will.
• “One town, one story” is an excellent idea, and Tom Perotta’s story, “The Smile on Happy Chang’s Face” was an usually good choice—its characters (believable, complex), setting (a Little League playoff), its dilemmas (moral choices, paying for past sins)—all ones that people could wrestle with without any one obvious interpretation. Food for thought: What makes a character sympathetic?
• Alician Anstead must be a great teacher (even though it’s not her primary job), as exemplified by the skillful job did she leading the “One town, one story” discussion and keeping it moving while offering her own insights. (Whatever happened to Tom Menino, mayor of Boston—wasn’t he supposed to be leading it?} Having Tom Perotta there was an added bonus.
• To the Festival organizers: When seeking donations, be mindful of your audience--not everyone texts (though it may seem so), in particular not some older people who might be inclined to donate if given any easy way to do it, other than texting.
• I do not need to buy any more books….

2010 Third Quarter Check-in--July through September

Summer and early fall had their pleasant distractions—two week long vacations (one of which was productive writing-wise) and a 10-day visit from my niece (also a writer, so many good conversations on writing) along with gardening and going to farmer’s markets. Plus it was a very hot summer, and the house isn’t air conditioned! Too many excuses.

Here's what I did well: I kept up with my schedule of two blog entries per month, and I didn’t cheat by making one all photos. I worked on three different projects, including completing Draft 3 of one novel, Draft 9 of another novel, and getting back to a young adult novel I’d put aside 5 years ago about the time I started writing seriously. Have spent lots of time thinking about this book.

Here’s what I didn’t so so well: I didn’t go to many writing events,I didn’t work on any brand new pieces of writing, I feel like I’m spending too much time on editing, I didn’t write on as many days as I would have liked, I didn’t send out any query letters, and I didn’t read as much as a writer should.

• Participated in six sessions of my writers’ group
• Wrote and published six blog entries (not including my quarterly check-in)
• Participated in an evening workshop, “Creating Complex Characters,” and went to one reading (Jonathan Franzen on Freedom –see blog entry)
• In addition to blogs, wrote on 23 days (eight days in June, seven days in July, and eight days in August)—some of these were quite substantial; others were not. Worked on one query letter. Have done some research and plotting out of young adult novel.
• Discussed feedback on my novel draft (#3) with my niece who gave it an entire read through—I know what I need to do now to take it to the next level (probably the new year)
• Finished The Pact, Oogy: A Dog only a Family Could Love, and Across the Barricades (a British Young Adult novel); made substantial headway in Freedom (but am starting to get bored with it…..)

On the Perfect Off-Season Writer's Getaway

At least once a year, I like to go somewhere for a week, not only to get away from my work routines and my distractions at home but also to write a bit. The best of these vacations has certain characteristics. Below I describe how my recent trip to Provincetown, MA on the tip of Cape Cod, stacked up against my criteria.

The Location. Distance from home—drive up to four hours, or non-stop plane ride with no more than one hour drive at other end. Things to do and see, nice places to walk, a few good restaurants, a convenient grocery store. Interesting architecture or history a plus. Our Location: Provincetown, MA. Historic, quirky, fun,friendly. 2.5 hour drive from home. Location rating: A

The Condo. A separate bedroom and living area is a must, with a door that closes between the two. A full kitchen is preferable (stove, oven, large fridge, dishwasher). At least 1.5 bathrooms is nice. Bright is a real plus. Convenient to things but a little off the beaten track. Quiet in the morning and at night. Several choices of places to set up the laptop. Free and strong WiFi or cable internet connections. Our Condo: Eastwood A- (roadwork in the morning made the noise factor less desirable. But three good computer spots, and excellent WiFi.)

The Schedule. Leisurely, with writing time every day, long walks, one meal out, a diversion or two, time to read. Our schedule: Some variation every day, but always the aforementioned included. Schedule rating: A

The Physical Challenge. A strenuous hike, a canoe trip, cross-country skiing—something where you feel really good about your accomplishment at the end. Our Physical Challenge: A hike over the dunes to the ocean. Walking up and down hills in soft sand. Physical challenge rating: A

The Surprise. Something unexpected. Our surprise: The entire dune walk, from the hills and valleys, to the vegetation (including toadstools in this dry place), the dune shacks where some people actually lived, the vastness and seeming remoteness of it though it was so near town (we walked to it!), and finally the ocean at the end—we saw no one else there. Second surprise: Being ablet to walk down the middle of the main street with minimal traffic! Surprise rating: A

The Native Tip. An off the beaten track place known to the locals, but not as much to visitors. Our Local Tip: The cliffs at Longnook Beach, Truro. A wide, unspoiled beach, protected by high, sandy cliffs, where we watched the birds dive into the ocean for their food. Local tip rating: A

The Ultimate Relaxation. Whatever turns you on. Our ultimate relaxation. The hottub at Eastwood—after our Physical Challenge. Ulimtate relaxation rating: A

The Local Dinner. Something of the place, not too expensive, ambience. Our Local Dinner: The early bird Clambake Special at The Waterford for $18.00. The lobster was delicious. Local dinner rating: B+

The American Breakfast. One fun breakfast in a local hangout. Our Breakfast: Tip of the Tops’n. Breakfast rating: B+

The Sunset. A spot to share the end of the day—over water is best. Sunsets can be skipped on winter getaways. Our Sunset: Herring Cove Beach. Sunset rating: B (We were lucky to have cleark skies; sunset was nice, but nothing out of the ordinary. Setting was lovely.)

The Original Photo Op. We’re not talking about your usual sights (or sunsets) but something that strikes the fancy. Preferably more than one. Preferably one that is good enough for the annual holiday card. Our Photo Ops. Fences and shadows, colorful buoys, fun mirrors, reflections and shadows in a store window. Photo op rating: B+ Not sure about the holiday card, and the light was a bit iffy at times.

The Cultural Experience. An musical, artistic and or dramatic event/place that delights one or more of the senses. Our Cultural Contribution. Cubano art gallery—one of only 30 galleries in the US allowed to bring in art from Cuba. A range of media and styles. Cultural contribution rating: B+

The Social Opportunity. An arranged or spontaneous gathering with friends or new acquaintances. Our Social Opportunity. Good friends from NYC were visiting the Cape at the same time. We met their friends, ate lunch with our friends, and took a long walk. Social opportunity rating: A

The Friendly Native. An interesting conversation with someone from the area. Our friendly native: Unbeknownst to us, we crashed a staff party at a local bar. The owner of the restaurant (whose staff it was) came over to us and made us feel very welcome. Friendly native rating: B

The Unplanned Stop. Something that wasn’t necessarily on your agenda but turns out to be a real pleasure. Our Unplanned Treat: Truro Vineyards and wine tasting. 10 different wines in a very pleasant setting after a short tour. Showed up just at the right time! Treat rating: A

The Writing Output. At least two hours a day, five days out of seven. Some sense of forward movement on a project. Maybe a new source of inspiration, or an aha moment. My Writing Output: Schedule achieved; output—not as high as I would have liked. Some progress in structure. One blog entry. Writing output rating: B

[Note: More pictures to be added.]

On Franzen Frenzy and Its Meaning for the Would-be Writer

I am wondering how Jonathan Franzen is feeling at the moment. Is he exhausted after giving countless interviews in the past few days about his first novel(Freedom) in nine years, not to mention at least one reading at the Boston Public Library to which he must have had to travel? Is he stunned that his book debuted at #1 on the New York Times Best Seller Lst? Is he humbled to be on the cover of Time as compared to his somewhat snotty response to Oprah Winfrey’s selection of his last novel, The Corrections, for her book club?

Let me first set the record straight. I loved The Corrections and found it to be one of the most engrossing novels I have ever read. I listened to several of the interviews of the last few days with Franzen, including the short, but surprising one on NPR’s “Marketplace” since Freedom apparentely deals with the futility of an economy that requires continous growth to succeed. I attended the aforementioned event at the Boston Public Library, arrived early, and waited in line with several hundred other people for the author to sign a copy of his book. I confess I have not yet read Freedom although hearing Franzen read his lengthy, but rich observations of his characters reminded me of what I liked about his first novel.

I don’t begrudge him any of his fame. He deserves it, and I am thrilled that a contemporary novelist with something to say is so honored. What fascinates me here is how the author feels about his reception by the world at large. No doubt Franzen, who despite the long gap between novels, has become accustomed to people recognizing his name. Perhaps he has learned to tame any annoyance at having to give so many interviews so that his book sells and his publishers can justify what was no doubt a sizable advance. Does he suffer stage fright before each reading? Does he worry that he won’t have answers for some of the questions thrown his way, or is he comfortable enough with his position that he can happily dismiss those that don’t interest him? What does he make of his fame, and does he feels he deserves it? Is he a shy man who endures that very public side of the publishing world because that is part of the bargain? Or does he relish the opportunity to share his thinking about his work?

Yesterday at the reading, I got some inkling into this v.2 version of Franzen. He was unhappy at a series of questions from one person (why can’t people stick to just one question) that probed what he did about writers’ block (he doesn’t like to call it that), whether it actually took him nine years to write his book (he didn’t really write it until 2009 although the idea was germinating), and what his daily writing process is (he didn’t answer this part.) He skillfully handled a question from a woman who spewed literary critique mumbo-jumbo, and managed to silence another questioner (especially after the audience booed the questioner) whose observation (with a question attached—some people seem to enjoy providing their own theories, and then turn them into a question, with the phrase, “would you agree that…..?) threatened to give away some of the plot. All these off the cuff strategies require a certain amount of cool and sense of confidence, but perhaps he’s heard it all before.

Inevitably, those who are struggling to be published authors ourselves have fantasies of being in Franzen’s shoes. We wonder how we would feel and act in front of a large audience or while giving an interview that will have a public airing and live on in podcasts, be commented on endlessly in blogs. Of course, realistically, we know we will be lucky to be published at all, and we understand that first time authors choosing to do a book tour will be arranging and paying for it themselves. But what if?

My friend Larry finds himself in that enviable, yet frightening position. His first book, Oogy, a Dog only a Family Could Love—a memoir centered around the abused dog that he and his family adopted--- is due out in mid-October with a print run of 100,000 (most print runs of unknown authors start at a few thousand). He is potentially on the cusp of something new for him. Clearly, his publisher has great faith that Larry’s book is going to be a huge hit and has done a great deal to promote it. Larry himself is in disbelief that any of this is happening, that the fruits of his labor merit the kinds of positive reviews trickling in prior to publication. Although he will have some local readings (he lives in Philadelphia), there will be no book tour unless, of course, the book takes on a life of its own. Yet, even the idea of the book occurred because of another situation that most of us only dream about. None other than Oprah’s people (yee gads—her again?) found an article written by Larry for his local animal shelter newsletter, and Larry, his family, and Oogy appeared a couple of years ago on Oprah’s Valentine’s special (re-aired the following year). The rest, as they say, is history, but history still in the making.

Jonathan Franzen is not the first author whose autograph I have sought. I have stood in many a line and shaken many an author’s hand after receiving my signed copy (the short-hand signature, indecipherable)—I once got a kiss from Garrison Keillior. I have known (and studied with) academic authors who, if not household names, were very well known in certain circles. I am friends with somone whose best friend was the subject of an enormous best seller some years ago. But Larry is the first person within my circle who has the potential to rise from obscurity to some version of temporary celebrity because of his book. I will follow his journey with interest. I believe he will maintain his humility whatever the outcome, but I want him to succeed. He’s the underdog (pardon the pun) we all root for in the movies, for whom we shed a tear of joy at the end. His victory is a vicarious victory for all of us who have ever received a rejection letter from an agent or an editor. Maybe Larry is no Franzen, but if I ask him a dumb question, I’ll probably get an answer and maybe some inkling as to what all the hoopla means to him. And maybe I’ll get some perspective about my goals for my own work.