Red Nose

My Own Great Books

I've been reading entries from various folks who have listed 15 books that are important to them, and I thought, "Hmm. What would mine be?"

So here they are. Some are important because they affected my life; some are important to me because I simply love the story.

1. The Stand -- Stephen King. I first read this book when I was in labor with SonnyeBoy. I finished it in one day. It's still my favorite Stephen King book.
2. The Once and Future King -- T.H. White. This is my favorite interpretation of the Arthurian legend.
3. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass -- Lewis Carroll. It's one of the first books I ever read for myself.
4. Summer Lightning -- P.G. Wodehouse. My favorite Wodehouse book, it makes me laugh out loud every time I read it, and I've read it many times.
5. The Kybalion -- Three Initiates. My equivalent of the Bible.
6. Be Here Now -- Baba Ram Dass. I still have the copy I bought in college for $3.33.
7. Slaughterhouse Five -- Kurt Vonnegut. I found it a little difficult to choose one Vonnegut, but Slaughterhouse Five is the one I read first. It turned me to Vonnegut, so it wins.
8. Fear of Flying -- Erica Jong. While it now seems dated, when FoF first came out it was liberating.
9. Giles Goat Boy -- John Barth. Barth is complex, but I love this book. I read it during my first season of the circus. Darryl Ponicsan, who was traveling with the show to research his own circus novel, was impressed that I was reading it. I said, "Well, I really want to keep my brain alive."
10. Freaky Deaky -- Elmore Leonard. Elmore Leonard is a dialog genius. I read the first two pages of this book in the bookstore and bought it on the spot.
11. Gone with the Wind -- Margaret Mitchell. I read it in seventh grade; my first real "grown-up" book.
12. Autobiography of a Yogi -- Paramahansa Yogananda. Another inspirational book from college.
13. Water for Elephants -- Sarah Gruen. I thought I'd better put in a recent book, and this is it. I love great writing; I love the circus. How could I not love this book?
14. The Vampire Lestat -- Anne Rice. Vampires. I mean, Vampires! Who are not lovesick teenagers!
15. Winnie the Pooh -- A.A. Milne. I remember my older sister reading to this book to me when I was a kid. I still remember her saying "It's Winnie Ther Pooh. Don't you know what 'Ther' means?"

What books would you choose?

Ten Things I Did Since Thursday

Since I last wrote in this space, I have:

1. Been furious at, sorry for, sympathetic to, irritated at, amused by, and worried about my mother. She's a one-woman emotional roller coaster!

2. Paid bills and balanced the checkbook. Yep, I balance the checkbook every month, down to the penny. It's the only way I can stay sane -- and keep any money in the bank!

3. Finished Bret Hart's memoir. Of course, he sets himself up as being the good guy -- it's his memoir, after all -- but really. Bret, Bret, Bret. I find it hard to be sympathetic to you when you basically fucked anything with a hole and a heartbeat while your wife raised your four kids for you. Still, his accounts of the weird world of professional wrestling is pretty fascinating; it reminds me of the circus, only without the pain.

4. Thought about getting a hair cut.

5. Canceled Mom's World Book Encyclopedia account. She bought the set of World Books over 50 years ago, I think, and has been keeping up with the year books ever since. There are now more year books than there are volumes in the basic set! Mom gave the whole shebang to my niece for her kids, who will likely look at them as quaint artifacts of a bygone age.

6. Wore summer pants! It has been hot around here -- in the 90s. So I was sitting on the bed thinking about getting dressed on Monday and feeling very unexcited about pulling on corduroys or thick knits when I rememberd -- I have summer pants! Even better? They were a little loose.

7. Almost gotten our latest crew of feral kitties to let me skritch them. One of them actually let me pet him, until he realized I was doing it. Then he freaked out and bolted.

8. Gotten my session picks together for STC conference. In a feverish burst of anal-retentiveness, I entered each session I was interested in attending into Outlook, then printed out the daily schedule. The only problem is that some time slots have three choices, alas.

9. Gotten caught up on The Office and The Tudors. Poor Queen Jane!

10. Screamed myself silly for my Capitals, both in person (Game 5) and in front my sister's TV (Game 6). The best part of Game 5? There were four best parts: Brads's two goals (one shorthanded!), Sasha's goal, and another unbelievable Ovie goal.

The arena was so loud at the end of the second period that the players didn't hear the horn and kept on playing! The best part of Game 6? Watching John Tortorella look more and more glum as he served his one-game suspension.

Tonight's the night! Game 7 -- do or die. LET'S GO CAPS!

Heading Upstate

Well damn! The Habs just tied it up with 36 seconds left, and I do not like this turn of events AT ALL. I mean, Ovie does have a hat trick, but geez. Oh well -- on to overtime.

Wait a sec... WOOO! Ovie scored the winner in overtime! That's his fourth goal of the game and his 43rd of the season and a critical two points for my boys.

But hockey is not the subject of this entry. The subject of this entry is that I am going travelling up to Saratoga Springs, New York tomorrow to speak at Saratoga Reads! Winterfest. Saratoga Reads! is a very cool community program wherein the whole community, using the resources of Skidmore College, reads a novel and discusses it.

Well, wouldn't you just know it? The winning novel is Water for Elephants, the lovely circus novel by Sarah Gruen. My great good friend Phylise is on the board for Saratoga Reads! and knows of my sordid past. So... she invited me to come on up and speak and juggle (badly) and clown around at Border's for an hour or so. And, of course I agreed, because I am stupid always willing to help out a pal, especially when they pay my airfare, which is really cheap on Southwest.

Little did I know that the local media would leap all over the thought of a former clown coming up to speak, so I've had two interviews from local newspapers and I'll be going to a local radio station before the event to talk about whatever they want to talk about!

And! When I was talking to one of the reporters, he told me that he saw a big stack of my book at Borders, awaiting the hordes who will no doubt stampede the table to acquire a signed copy. Then, a traditional publisher will see the bestselling potential of my cheesy chicklit novel and then sales will skyrocket and I will have to kick back a substantial portion of my newly earned millions to Saratoga Reads!.

Well, if you're gonna hallucinate dream, dream big.

Go Out And Listen

Tonight I went to a book signing at a local Barnes and Noble. The book is by Dave Isay, and it's called Listening Is an Act of Love.

It's a collection of the interviews recorded for the StoryCorps project -- the same folks who recorded my interview with my Mom.

Dave's a fascinating guy, devoted to collecting an oral history of America. Not famous people, not wealthy people or politicians or scientists -- he wants to hear the stories of you and me, our parents and grandparents, and what life means to us. The book contains stories from the first 10,000 interviews. He played excepts from about half a dozen of the stories: funny ones, touching ones, infuriating ones.

He had a special guest there, a guy whose StoryCorps interview was selected for the book. He is one of the rare people who survived the destruction of the World Trade Center towers. He was on the 101st floor when the first plane hit, and he managed to get all the way down the stairs to safety. All through the other stories I managed to keep my shit together, but when he read his story -- especially the part when he gets home to his wife -- that did it. I had to wipe my eyes.

Dave kept saying that everyone needs to do this, that everyone should participate in whatever way possible. So when he asked for questions, I raised my hand and just said, "I did a StoryCorps interview with my 96-year old mother, and you're right; it's an amazing experience."

And that was all I could manage to croak out before I... well, sorta choked up.

Of course I bought the book. When I went up to get it signed, I asked him to sign it "To Anna and Mary" because I'm going to lend it to Mom to read. He added a little note "So glad you could be part of the StoryCorps project."

You could be, too. Grab a tape recorder, a notebook and a pen, go to a StoryCorps booth location with a friend, or a relative, or anyone. Ask questions, and listen. It's an amazing experience; it's an act of love.