Mystery and Humor

“Epitaph with Flowers” is a crackling good mystery that's now up at Big Pulp--love, death, lost treasure and betrayal. All in various shades of noir. Print it out for reading on the run, while waiting for the bus or during that bathroom break at the office. At http://bigpulp.com/chill_giersbach_epitaph.html.

Now, we all know there’s only a single letter separating “ironic” from “iconic.” You decide which is which, between the mystery above and the humor below.

If it’s not pollution making us irritable, it’s the alternative to fossil-fuel energy. Who’d ever believe freedom from the oil cartel would invite the dreaded “Wind Turbine Syndrome?” "Blowing in the Wind" is new satire at http://www.short-humour.org.uk/3writersshowcase/blowinginthewind.htm

Tsunami Changes in Book Selling

There was a 6-column-inch blurb in Sunday's Times that Seattle-based Amazon on Christmas Day sold more e-books for its Kindle than paper-based books.

Interesting factoid, but more startling was the next sentence that Laredo, Texas (pop. 250,000) closed its last bookstore. (Laredo's population is only slightly smaller than that of Newark, NJ, one of the poorer urban areas.) I checked my online Yellow Pages, though, and actually came up with eight Laredo bookstores, three of which were Christian and one Spanish-language. Two recognizable names were Barnes & Noble and B. Dalton. That left two that appeared to be independent bookstores.

What's the takeaway?
> A lot of people got Kindles for Christmas. (My Seattle-based friend has 4,600 books on his e-reader, most which he admits he'll never read.)
> Texans read less than Newarkers, where there are 84 listings for bookstores. Newark's median household income is $26,913. Laredo's median HH income is $23,832, but has a lower cost of living index.
> There's a sea change coming in the way--and whether--we read books. (Does Steve Jobs know something about e-books that led to the iPad?)
> Laredo's population is 97.1% Latino, but unemployment is just 6%. (Are Hispanics working too hard to read?)
> Bookstores are an endangered enterprise.

I think all of these assumptions are correct.

Hey, Mr. Postman….

I love to get mail. Well, not direct mail solicitations, but queries from people who’ve read what I’ve written. Some reflections on what it means for a writer to hear back from readers has been posted at Flash Fiction Chronicles (http://www.everydayfiction.com/flashfictionblog/when-readers-get-back-to-you/#respond).

My quote from Catcher in the Rye—Holden Caulfield on wishing he could simply call up writers he admired and have a chat—was entirely coincidental with J.D. Salinger’s death. My article was written two weeks ago. But I wish I could call him up and tell him what his writing meant to me when I was a confused teenager.

J.D. Salinger R.I.P.

Yesterday was not a perfect day for bananafish. Jerome David Salinger, author of The Catcher in the Rye and other books, died, on Wednesday at age 91, of natural causes at his home in New Hampshire, according to a family statement provided today. His first story, "A Perfect Day for Bananafish," was published by The New Yorker in 1948. His last was published 16 years later after he retired to reclusiveness in New Hampshire. His output was small for a writer given so much acclaim: Nine Stories (1953), a collection of a novella and a short story, Franny and Zooey (1961), and a collection of two novellas, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction (1963). His last published work, a novella entitled Hapworth 16, 1924, appeared in The New Yorker on June 19, 1965.

Salinger was an evergreen writer whose books are still assigned to high schools. One 16-year-old recently told me she hated Catcher and thought Holden Caulfield a wuss. I said, well, he defined my life as a 17-year-old kid. He also defined a certain writing style for me, as well as the purpose of writing when he had Caulfield say, “What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.”

The New, NEW New York Times?

The front page of Sunday's Times made me choke on my bacon and eggs. There, under the head "Foot on Bomb, Marine Defies a Taliban Trap," I read the quote, 'Goddamn, Matty, Man,' said Cpl. Joshua Villegas, allowing his eyes to roam over the intact Marine after the patrol backed away away from the dud. 'Lucky son of a bitch.'"

Is this the first time the good gray Times wrote "goddamn" and "son of a bitch"? On page one, column 7? I'm used to the New Yorker sprinkling its copy with "fucks," but the national paper of record--a family paper--is getting it on! Going with the times, so to speak. I expect tomorrow's paper will have Pres. Obama stating, "Screw the banks, I'm really pissed off now!" And Speaker Nancy Pelosi fuming, "Those shits are wrecking my legacy."

Ah, well, if little kids now use good Anglo-Saxon epithets, can the rest of journalism be far behind in trying to sell papers to the illiterates?

Now in a New Anthology of Short Stories

Ever watch your future melting away, moments before the reprieve comes? That may not be the end though.

“Death in the Afternoon” has been selected for inclusion in Every Day Fiction’s new anthology. So nice, too, when readers say things like, "Good story, nice twist, great images." When readers are happy, I'm happy. There's more information at http://www.everydayfiction.com/features/print-books/the-best-of-every-day-fiction-two-anthology/. Then curl up and enjoy some of today's top flash fiction writers.

Keep Your Philtrum Dry

I’m often inclined to pitch a story as seen through the eyes of children, schizos and other-worldly personalities. It allows me to describe impressions of these innocents, while you, dear reader, know the truth. (Don’t you?)

I got a question from my 3-year-old grandson today asking what the indentation below the nose and over the lip was called. A quick Google check revealed it’s a philtrum. Who knew? I wrote back to his Mom to tell him tonight, “Your philtrum should look like your Mom's or Dad's because the shape is inherited.

“I like to watch and see if people's earlobes—the dingle dangle—is separated or is tucked up next to their jaw. This is also inherited, so if you marry a woman whose ears don't dangle then your baby boy or girl might not have a dangle ear and you can't sing ‘Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro, can you tie them in a knot, can you tie them in a bow...?’

“Also, if you put your finger at the end of your nose, you'll find a little separation under the skin. Go on, wiggle it. I don't know what this is called, but I think everyone has one. If you don't, then maybe you're an alien from Mars!! Write and let me know!”

Now, all I have to do is put together a thousand words about a boy with no philtrum, no dangling earlobes and no thingy under the tip of his nose.