The Guinness Book of Me: a Memoir of Record

FULL COURT

2005-11-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

OH, how long I've been gone. It's true. I'M BACK. Just in time for ESPN Full Court College Basketball's yearly siren song . . . I'll try to catch you up on things. Suffice it to say my first semester teaching 4 sections has been quite a learning experience. Nucking futs, to be honest. But I'm making progress on the Day AFter book and working with some dynamite students. We're really liking Providence and all the opportunities that living here provides us . . . I've recently become a commercial fisherman on the weekends and adopted the name, Captain Barry. I wear a white hat and a Hawaiin shirt. It's getting a little cold for flip-flops and my Speedo, so I've taken to wearing a sarong and white jacket with gold epulets . . I'm getting off track. It's about the basketball. That's why I haven't been fishing as much. That's why Malcolm hasn't been out in the dinghy. That's why, to be honest, I'm writing now. Because here I am, sitting in front of the television, watching the sport I love . . . just got done with a triple-overtime game between Michigan State and Gonzaga. Unbelievable. That Adam Morrison kid with his floppy hair and cheesy thin mustache and his Larry Bird-like moves is the real-deal. 41 points. How does he get shots off? . . . and I've got to do something with my hands, my brain. So here I am, catching you up on, well, not much. Little has changed. We've settled into our lives here and time is zipping past. We're making a few friends and just generally appreciating every moment that all 3 of us have together. I'm especially having fun playing with Malcolm when we get some time alone. The other day, we screwed eye-hooks into the exposed ceiling joists in the basement and ran string through them, then raised and lowered a bucket of marbles. We did the same on the back porch and then made a door-closer for his room. It was awesome. . . So getting ready for Thanksgiving with Rachel's family. In fact, since Rachel is snoring on the couch, I have to leave in about ten minutes to pick her mom up from the airport . . . signing off

SWC

Waterfire

2005-07-24T06:11:00.000-06:00

Gang Green,

Well, we've sort of settled into Providence. Our furniture, clothes, books, dishes, art, etc. won't be here until Tuesday. But we're having a great time nontheless. Already joined the zoo and went last night to one of the city's "Waterfire" events www.waterfire.org . . . I'm telling you, it's something pretty amazing. Not just the fire and all the people and the human gargoyles, etc., but the just all around good vibes that you get there. It's a feeling, a sort of collective peace. Everyone there is relaxed and positive and happy. Combined with the floating fire and music, it's pretty freakin' cool . . .

For a (perhaps) more eloquent reflection on the move, read below:

Tiny Apocalypse

If each night is a tiny apocalypse—an end of your world, your day—then each morning provides new opportunity for mutation, adaptation, and survival. It gives you a sacred chance to remake yourself in a new day, a moment to notice things like an insistent red cardinal perched in a tree outside your new home, chirping for hours in the early morning, singing for what seems like pure joy, waking your son from fitful sleep; or the church bells clanging up from the valley below the hillside where you have transplanted, their chimes sounded by a rhythmically challenged ringer; or the fires the night before floating on the water and way your son’s face glowed when the black boat, Prometheus, fed wood to the flame, and later the way the boy gingerly reached his hand up to touch the living statue and shake the gargoyle’s claws; or how a white smokestack from an old oil refinery juts up into the sky not far from you, it’s rusting body girdled with a winding staircase, and in the right kind of light it looks like a temple spire ringed in curling flame; or the way you learn to adapt without furniture, clothing, books, dishes, the stuff of your previous life that’s now somewhere between the old world, Colorado, and the new Rhode Island, packed into a big white truck driven by a large black man named Leroy; or how this new place seems full of life even with all the old cemeteries, large gated plots of granite, and how your son said last night, “Daddy, if you put a big rock on someone, it means you love them,” and how this wasn’t presented as a question but as a comment about the purpose of gravestones; or the way you’re now sitting on your back deck, your good dog soaking up spots of morning sun, and you are thinking about the Italian bakery you saw yesterday, Genarro’s, down the hill on Charles street and Graziano’s homemade sausage shop a couple blocks over, and how much you want to become a regular there, a frequent friend, the kind of customer they call by name; because this awareness of your surroundings, this attention to the sublime, is how you adapt and survive--through the frenetic gathering of detail, the mossy accumulation of new stories.

Much peace and big love.

SWC

Dreams Do Come True

2005-07-08T10:49:00.000-06:00

Friends,

OK, I submit this post not to gloat or brag, but simply as recognition of the significance of today. What, you may ask, is the significance of today? Good question.

Today marks my very last day (ever?) working an 8-5, 40 hr a week job!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, it's true that some might not consider this a worthwhile dream; but I've been ready to retire since I started working and I figure the life of an Academic is about as close as I can come to it while actually pulling down a salary and acting like a responsible adult . . .

So it's off to the halls of the Academy at Roger Williams University, where my "dream" of being a freewheeling, writing-obsessed, book-obsessed, slightly eccentric (or at least a bit strange) professor will be dragged kicking and screaming into the day-to-day grinding muck of teaching 4 sections each semester . . . (I'm still trying to pretend that 4 sections won't be that much different than 2; so don't burst my bubble, OK).

Peas. Gout. -- SWC

Sandra Day, Say it Ain't So

2005-07-01T12:41:00.000-06:00

Dear Ones,

We are utterly and completely fucked:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/07/01/resignation.supreme/index.html

That could be 2 Justices that W appoints after Rhenquist resigns . . .

What's to stop him now?

Oh well, at least the world still has 646 lb. catfish (see above) and giant feral hogs (aka Hogzilla) . . .

SWC

Catdaddy

2005-06-30T13:39:00.000-06:00

Fisheaters,

Now this is one damn big catfish . . . my favorite graf? 4th one down. Gotta love it. They ATE it!!

There's a village with its priorities right.

I'd like to see the battle Hogzilla Vs. Giant Catfish . . .

No Fish Tale: Thais Catch 646-Pound Fish
By DANIEL LOVERING Associated Press Writer

BANGKOK, Thailand (AP) -- This big one did not get away. Thai fishermen netted a 646-pound catfish believed to have been the world's largest freshwater fish ever caught in Thailand, a researcher said Thursday.

The nearly 9-foot-long Mekong giant catfish was landed May 1 by villagers in Chiang Khong, a remote district in northern Thailand, and weighed by Thai fisheries department officials, said Zeb Hogan, who leads an international project to locate and study the world's largest freshwater fish species.

He confirmed it was the heaviest fish on record since Thailand started keeping such statistics in 1981.

The fishermen had hoped to sell the fish to environmental groups, which planned to release it to spawn upriver, but it died before it could be handed over and then was chopped up and sold in pieces to villagers as food.

Hogan, whose work is funded by the World Wildlife Fund and the National Geographic Society, said he is planning to write a paper about the catch for a scientific journal.

"That's the best way to document this kind of thing," he told The Associated Press by telephone.
The Mekong giant catfish was listed as critically endangered in 2003 after research showed its numbers had fallen by at least 80 percent in the past 13 years.

Fishermen believe the catfish species has been declining largely because of dams and environmental damage along the Mekong River - home to more species of giant fish than any other river, said an earlier statement by WWF and the society.

SWC

Glorigonian

2005-06-27T07:40:00.000-06:00

Freaks, Check it out. More press. A nice review from The Oregonian (http://www.oregonlive.com/entertainment/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/entertainment/1119606946304840.xml&coll=7)--and the guy is a member of the National Book Critics Circle!! I needed this. Enjoy. -- SWC
_______________________________

Finding refuge with record holders
THE GUINNESS BOOK OF ME Steven Church Simon & Schuster, $23, 225 pages
Sunday, June 26, 2005
STEVE WEINBERG
When the Guinness World Records 2005 published its 50th anniversary edition early this year, Steven Church almost certainly took note. Maybe he even bought the 300-page compilation. He wouldn't have been able to resist, judging by his inventive book "The Guinness Book of Me: A Memoir of Record."

Now 32 and an editor for the arts organization Many Mountains Moving, Church lives in Colorado with his wife and son. Most of his memoir, however, looks back on growing up in Lawrence, Kan., with his mother, father and brother, Matt. While an elementary school student, Church became an obsessive Guinness Book of World Records reader, spending his precious dollars to buy a new copy every year at the book fair.

Church lost himself in thoughts about what motivated the record holders; he shares his imagined stories throughout this memoir, giving it a surrealistic quality, though one punctuated with humor. Sometimes, Church imagined himself as a record holder, despite knowing deep down that he lacked the motivation to see any such outlandish activity to such a conclusion.

The organization of the Guinness book informs the organization of the memoir, beginning with "Most Variable Stature." The holder of that supposedly documented record (Church seems to take on faith that all the records listed are documented) stood less than 4 feet tall at age 21 but eventually topped 7 feet in height. That appealed to Church, perhaps in some half-understood way because of his own large body, which threatened his comparatively puny classmates. (Hence, his chapter title "Boy, Misfit.")

Today, Church is 6 feet 4 inches tall and weighs 260 pounds. His bulk plays a significant role throughout the memoir. (See, for instance, "Diet, Strangest" and "Fall, Hardest.") That bulk is contrasted with brother Matt, younger by 19 months, more normally sized, more comfortable in his body, and an accomplished daredevil. Matt irritates his older brother sometimes, though Church is irritated by being irritated.

After a shocking accident, Church feels impelled to leave Kansas, to put memories behind him by moving westward. But there is still a need to return to Kansas from time to time, causing discomfort of several sorts. Part of the discomfort is the physical act of flying on an airplane, where, Church says, "I feel like a statistical anomaly, an oddity seat designers couldn't factor into their decisions." So he pulls his much-thumbed 1980 super-edition of Guinness from the seat pocket. Church relates how he disappears "into a refuge of print and paper while the stewardess blocks my exit with the drink cart, trapping me and rendering me completely motionless -- inert, captured. I turn to my Guinness friends. I turn to stories, hoping the right kind will set me free."

Church's memoir is likely to set readers free, as they enter his alternative universe. He is mighty young to write a memoir. But Church is so perceptive about himself, so observant of others, that he offers a rich serving from an already oversized life.

Steve Weinberg is a member of the National Book Critics Circle.

Nepotism at its Worst

2005-06-26T21:46:00.000-06:00

Gang,

Check this out. I paid $22 to enter the Glasgow Prize Emerging Writer's Prize Contest sponsored by the lit mag, Shenandoah and judged by Jeffrey Hammond (recent winner of the Missouri Review's Ed. Prize for the Essay). It came with a subscription to Shenandoah. That was it. But if you win, you get $2500 and a reading a Washington and Lee University. Sounds pretty good, huh. It's only open to writers with one book of creative nonfiction.

I recently received news that I did not win. Nor was I named a finalist. The winner is a writer named Rebecca McClanahan and her book, The Riddle Song and Other Rememberings, was published in 2002. She has at least two other books on writing that I found on Amazon and scads of publications.

But this doesn't seem so interesting until you do a Google search for the names Jeffrey Hammond AND Rebecca McClanahan . . . .

Let's start first with what Mr. Hammond says about McClanahan's work (from a Wash and Lee press release).

Hammond praised the "writerly achievement" of McClanahan's book and the excellent job of "maintaining the delicate balance between imaginative freedom and thematic lucidity," as well as "an enviable lack of sentimentality" while exploring the mysteries of family.

Now, let's take a look at what else our little internet search turned up . . . (from 2003)

Jeffrey Hammond Receives Shenandoah Literary Prize
Lynn Leech
LEXINGTON, VAÂSHENANDOAH -- The Washington and Lee University Review, recently announced the winners of its annual fiction, essay and poetry prizes for 2003. Jeffrey Hammond, professor of English at St. Mary's College of Maryland, is the winner of the Thomas H. Carter Prize for the Essay for his work, ÂNight Moves." The Carter Prize, judged this year by Rebecca McClanahan, is given in honor of the late Thomas H. Carter, co-founder of Shenandoah magazine. The award is presented to the author of what is judged to be the best essay published in the magazine each year. HammondÂs most recent books are "Ohio States: A Twentieth-Century Midwestern" and "The American Puritan Elegy: A Literary and Cultural Study."

SHE GAVE HIM A PRIZE IN 2003, FOR CHRISSAKES!!!!!!!!!

The really sad part is that this doesn't really surprise me. This kind of shit happens all the time. I told Rachel about this and she got all pissed off and wanted me to raise a stink (I still might send back my copy of Shenandoah and ask for my money back) . . . But it's kind of like the Mafia. You can only hurt yourself by complaining.

But wouldn't you feel kind of dirty if you did something like this? Wouldn't it just kind of make your skin crawl? These are the kind of people running the asylum and I'm still banging on the doors, trying to get them to let me in . . . . I wonder how I'll react in the future--if I ever get to judge a contest and a friend or close colleague submits a ms., will I have the decency, the integrity to pass on it because of a conflict of interest, or will I give it the prize out of respect for the work, out of power, out of spite or blindness? Hard to say.

Fucking writers.

SWC

The Day After Barnes IgNoble

2005-06-26T07:18:00.000-06:00

Shoppers, I signed books yesterday at Barnes IgNoble with a group of "local" authors and, well, it was interesting . . . First, Ginny Cross, Community Relations Liaison, had called me at home and left a message asking if I could bring some extra copies of my book . . . This after assuring me that they'd have books in the store for the reading. Of course it was nowhere to be found on the shelves. They had about seven of them piled up on a table . . . I think they sold a couple. That place is just wrong.

I wore my Powells T-Shirt . . . a silent protest, but was otherwise very cordial. Besides me, there were 5 other women. I sat down, feeling rather introverted, and hardly spoke to anyone. I didn't really have to. All five of them talked non-stop the entire time. It was unbelievable. One woman's family spent the entire two hours in the store, this big burly guy with a goatee clutching Phil Mickelson's golf memoir in his hand the whole time . . . Two of the ladies were there promoting their self-published cookbook called "Secrets of the Saucey Ladies: Recipes and Memories from the Lovelander Bed and Breakfast," and they brought a plate piled up with a chocolate-zucchini cake . . . (let me take this time for a brief aside to express how much I dislike any sort of zucchini-cake, bread, loaf, muffin, etc. and to tell you how troubled I was to find little green bits of veggie-skin in my otherwise delicious cake) . . . Apparently the Lovelander Bed Breakfast closed three years ago and one of the women blamed it on 9/11 . . . . The woman next to me was a divorced grandmother who used to be married to a professor in the Engineering Department and she had written an "amateur sleuth" murder mystery novel set in "Fort Connor" called "Knit One, Kill Two" . . . She talked the ENTIRE time. Didn't close her mouth once and just sit. I don't know how the woman writes. But she was very nice . . . . The other women (3 of them with red hair!) had self-published crime caper novels, kids books, and one with a bright pink cover called "The Parisian," written by a small loud woman who received a bouquet of roses and a potted plant while sitting there.

I did however get to sign a book for a kid named Jacob who'd been in the CSU Young Writer's Workshop I did on Friday. He came in with his mom and bought a book and had me sign it for him. He grinned the whole time and shook my hand twice. He was so nervous he could barely talk. But it was, by far, one of the coolest signings I've done. More and more I get a kick out of kids buying my book--even if there is some seriously dark and weird stuff going on in it at times. I hope his mom lets him read it.

Peas. Gout.

SWC

Taos Mouse

2005-06-14T10:22:00.000-06:00

Citizens,

I've been invited to attend the Taos Summer Writer's Conference and will be reading (2X!) as a "Special Event," then participating on a "Publishing Panel" there. Should be fun. Of course I'll have to drive back immediately and watch them pack up our home into little tiny boxes and load them on a truck we may not see for two weeks . . . (more later on that) . . . But it will be great to be there, read, and just hang out in Taos. Plus I get to see my cousin, Jay and his wife, Nancy--two of the coolest people I've been able to reconnect with because of the book.

http://www.unm.edu/~taosconf/Conference/KeyNote.htm#steven

If anyone will be in the area or knows anyone in the area who might be interested, send them my way.

Peas. Gout.

SWC

Border Control

2005-06-08T12:24:00.000-06:00

Coyotes,

Here's a recent example of our anti-terrorism efforts that just makes me feel all warm and safe inside:

BOSTON, Massachusetts (AP) -- On April 25, Gregory Despres arrived at the U.S.-Canadian border crossing at Calais, Maine, carrying a homemade sword, a hatchet, a knife, brass knuckles and a chain saw stained with what appeared to be blood.

U.S. customs agents confiscated the weapons and fingerprinted Despres. Then they let him into the United States.

The following day, a gruesome scene was discovered in Despres' hometown of Minto, New Brunswick: The decapitated body of a 74-year-old country musician named Frederick Fulton was found on Fulton's kitchen floor. His head was in a pillowcase under a kitchen table. His common-law wife was discovered stabbed to death in a bedroom.

Now, you really must take a look at his picture:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/06/07/border.crossing.ap/index.html

Look at this GUY! Forget that he had a blood-stained chainsaw. Just look at him. Would you let him in YOUR country? One of the Border Patrol reps says in the article that you can't detain someone for being "bizarre."

Um, Ok. But you CAN detain someone for being Arab, Muslim, Indian, Black, etc. etc., right?

Ah, Amerika. -- SWC

Barnes Ig Noble Update

2005-06-06T14:53:00.000-06:00

Dearhearts,

OK, here's the latest word from the Barnes & Noble corporation explaining why my book was pulled from their shelves in April, after being released on April 5 . . . . (drum roll please) . . . Apparently the book didn't sell enough copies for them to sell copies . . . ur, ah, um, ok . . . so their way of supporting emerging or less-than-famous writers (i.e. promoting and selling their books), is by pulling their books from the shelves, thereby making it all but impossible for the average customer to actaully find the book . . . I think I get this! By forcing readers to physically hunt down and search for a book that has just been released by a major press, they actually add value to the book by making it "hard to find" or "rare" before it gets overlooked and taken for granted. The reader has to work to find my book and this means they "earn" the privilege of reading it. They won't just cram it on a "to read" shelf, only to forget about it later. No, they will read this book in the car in the parking lot because, by God, they had to wait two weeks to get it and drive down from Red Feather Lakes and change a flat tire just to make it to the store before they sent the Special Order back. This book will take sacrifice, commitment, labor, etc. Theywill HAVE to read it to justify all the angst and toil . . . They will thank their local B&N personally, genuflecting before the staff and praising their "tough love" approach to books . . . They will become loyal readers, book devotees of the highest degree . . . BRILLIANT! They must have themselves some marketing geniuses over there . . .

Thank you, Barnes & Noble, for all your efforts to make The Guinness Book of Me an overnight underground success . . .

Oh, and I'll be signing books at the Fort Collins Barnes & Noble on June 25. Yeehaw!

-- SWC

Rumination Station

2005-06-03T14:40:00.000-06:00

Ruminators,

If you're interested in my first attempt at some approximation of a DVD review/memoir-thing, you can check out my ramblings about The Day After in the latest issue of The Ruminator, or you can see it here: http://www.ruminator.com/?p=22

If you remember this movie, tell me about it? What do you remember? Why? Blog on . . .

Don't you think we need a big budget remake of this film? Screw War of the Worlds. Give me a computer-generated apocalypse!!! The world needs more John Cullum.

SWC

I Knew It Would Happen

2005-05-31T12:50:00.000-06:00

Groundlings,

Yes, I knew that day would come . . . than inevitable retreat from the Bloggage, when each new post begins with an apology for the lack of postings, when the energy wanes and sputters, when there are just too damn many other things going on for me to keep up . . . I try. Lordy, how I try. But I've been writing A LOT these days, like 20 new pages in the last few days, and I've been ignoring my "blogbligations." For that, I apologize (but not much, since I was WRITING for godsakes and, you know, that's really the point in all of this . . .) and offer the following meager updates:

The Rocky Mountain News recently published their Recommended Summer Reading Lists, broken down by Heavy Work, Med Work, and Light Work. My book is listed there under "Light Work: Breezy Reads" with Sarah Vowell's Assasination Vacation and another Simon & Schuster book (3 for 3 for S&S in that category). Check it out:

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/books/article/0,1299,DRMN_63_3811930,00.html

OK, so I might not have chosen to have my book listed as a "breezy read," but at least they were consistent in their mis-classification. I've read "Assassination Vacation," and while it's funny its' not what I would call "breezy." I mean it's about assassinations, for chrissakes! I suppose if a book makes you laugh it's "breezy."

I also have a "From the Author" essay on Powells.com. You can read it, buy the book, and save some cash: http://www.powells.com/fromtheauthor/church.html

Oh, and Barnes Ig Noble still doesn't have my book on the shelves here . . . why do I even bother? Freakin' corporate drones.

Peas. Gout. -- SWC

Gimme Nonfiction NOW!

2005-05-17T11:12:00.000-06:00

Roosters, Look out, Trevor. Look out, Iowa City. The Minions are coming to town! (Oh, and John Calderazzo too). That's right, baby. The U. of Iowa's Nonfiction Now Conference has accepted our proposal for a panel discussion at the Conference in November.

Here's the link:

http://www.english.uiowa.edu/nonfiction/nonfictionow05/index.html

And here's a copy of the proposal if you're interested:

Searching for the Self in Others: Internal Truths and External Influences

This panel will explore ways that contemporary nonfiction writers use other people, places, and texts (even animals) to understand something about the self and about “selves” in general. Discussions will cover a range of perspectives—Literary Journalism, Cultural Critique, Nature and Science Writing, and Memoir—while examining the different issues facing writers of nonfiction now. How do you use other characters and stories to tell your own story? How do you balance the personal voice with the public voice, the informational with the confessional? How do you write about what you don’t know? Presentations will focus on process as well as product with each writer discussing issues relevant to his or her own work.

Panelists: John Calderazzo (Colorado State University), Steven Church (Roger Williams University), Sophie Moore (University of Denver), and Matt Roberts (Arizona State University)
Panel Program: Each panelist will give a short reading and presentation of their work along with a question and brief moderated discussion.

SWC

Loafed

2005-05-16T09:26:00.000-06:00

Bread lovers, Rightfully so or not (not! you freakin' tool) I was fully expecting an invitation to Bread Loaf this year. I mean, I'm a freakin' walking billboard for them. I sold my book as a direct result of connections I made there in 2003. I never stop singing their praises and defending their elitism (it's only "elitist" when they don't pick you!) . . . BUT (a big ol' ghetto BUTT) I was rejected, shot down, nullified, nilled, nibbed, nipped, noped . . . NADA. Nothing. They even misspelled my name ("Stephen") . . . I know, I know, it's very competitive, only 6% accepted, blah, blah, blah . . . And I'm a damn prima donna for even expecting it in the first place . . . So I suppose it's a good thing that my natural reaction in these situations is to feel uber-competitive and I'm now newly motivated to finish not one but TWO books this year and then just try again and again and again. . . Ain't life just a CRAZY rollercoaster ride?

SWC

Washington Post Review

2005-05-16T09:17:00.000-06:00

Doughboys, For your enjoyment, I give you the Washington Post Book World review of TGBOM in its entirety (you can check out the whole article for free on the WP website http://www.washingtonpost.com/ in the Book World section):

Steven Church is so obsessed with The Guinness Book of World Records that he allows the dubious accomplishments of the many oddballs and eccentrics therein to be a guide to his own life. At times, it's difficult to tell if his unconventional The Guinness Book of Me: A Memoir of Record (Simon & Schuster, $23) is a postmodern mash-up of the Guinness mythos or merely the reflective rambling of a troubled man with way too much free time.

Church was a sickly child, prone to seizures and fever-induced hallucinations, which might explain why he identified with the record-book misfits. In a series of chapters like "Smashing, Bare Hand" and "Knives, Sharpest" and "Skin, Toughest" (each an extended riff on an old Guinness entry), he discusses in detail his envy of his younger, more outgoing brother and the tragedy that struck his Kansas family. (More than one person in his book dies "almost immediately.") Amid the devastation and low self-esteem, the obscure, often inane feats he read about give him some degree of comfort: "Okay, so my obsession is not with breaking records but with record holders, with people. More specifically, I'm obsessed with the people in my editions, 1980 and 1982, of the Guinness Book. They sort of moved into my psychic space when I was a kid and never left."

Church calls his memoir "creative nonfiction," but in the same paragraph, he tells us it's "not a book of fact." That contradictory quality makes The Guinness Book of Me difficult to pin down but also explains why it's so consistently engaging. Church directs his gaze inward but also simultaneously looks back into an equally complicated but more familiar former self. He evokes enough nostalgia to make his personal, sad story feel recognizable to just about all of us who grew up in the '70s.

(Andrew Ervin is a writer and critic in Champaign, Ill. He is a frequent contributor to Book World.)

OK, so I still don't really see my book as being "postmodern" but I can certainly live with "unconventional" and "hard to pin down." I also appreciate the sarcastic jab at me as a "troubled man with way too much free time"--because it's so very true. All in all, I think he makes the book sound interesting, intriguing . . . but maybe this is saying something about the kind of review I like. Don't get me wrong, the glowing reviews are fantastic. But it's this kind of push-pull tension in a review that makes me want to go out and buy a book . . . You?

Thanks for reading.

SWC

Upcoming Readings, Signings, Etc.

2005-05-16T09:12:00.000-06:00

Roadies,

So I have a couple of other appearances scheduled:

Sat, June 25 at the Barnes & Noble on College Ave in Fort Collins from 11-1. (yes, I did speak with Ginny Cross, who assured me that they had ordered more of my books and that they'd try to keep them in stock . . . reserving judgment for now . . .)

Weds. July 6 at the Boulder Bookstore in Boulder, CO at 7:30. We're trying to land me some radio spots too . . .

The machine is still cranking. Alert your friends and neighbors.

SWC

Barnes Ig Noble

2005-05-11T09:28:00.000-06:00

Bibliophiles,

OK, should I bother ranting about Barnes & Noble? . . . . Yes, I think I should. Here we are, living in a community where BN is the only significant bookstore in a fifty mile radius, where numerous local writers live and work, where I'm trying like hell to keep my book on the shelves . . . and they can't (or won't) keep it out on the freakin' sales floor. Rachel was in there the other day and they had pulled my books from the shelves and were sending them back to the warehouse!!!! What? She asked and was told it was some kind of miscommunication . . . Ummm, OK. That inspires a lot of confidence. So I called today and talked with a very nice guy named Bill, who told me that they didn't have any copies in the store and didn't have any order because, "the computer isn't set up to automatically order more books," and something about that "not being a decision made on this level." Excuse me, but what the hell? What level makes that decision? What level makes the decision about how to support local authors? Is it not the local level? Do they even have anyone locally who can make a decision? I can't even believe the nonsense of this. They keep some books out there indefinitely, for months it seems, right out front on those goddamn tables . . . and they can't keep a few copies of my book in stock? I'm supposed to talk with "Ginny" because "she keeps tabs on local writers" but of course Ginny isn't in today. I've been given her voice-mail number but, quite honestly, I need to calm down a bit first before I call her . . . I mean, for chrissakes, it's hard enough to sell books, to make it as a first time author, without getting the big shaft from your "local" bookstore . . .

SWC

Anger Management

2005-05-10T12:16:00.000-06:00

Bird-lovers, OK, so I've occasionally lost my temper for no good reason, and I've been annoyed by the abundance of large Canadian geese in Fort Collins (more specifically by the abundance of their insidious green poop), but this guy takes it to a whole other level . . . and he lives in New England! . . . God, what am I getting myself into?

First, the headline from the Providence Journal:

Accused goose stomper in court
The 33-year-old North Kingstown man pleads not guilty to animal cruelty, and his mother says the public is getting the wrong idea about him.

Then, we find this description of the "stomping" in question a little further down:

AROUND 3:50 P.M. Saturday, while working at Texas Instruments in Attleboro, John Sanders, 33, was walking between two buildings on the sprawling and grassy campus. He told the police that he became frightened when an adult goose hissed and flapped its wings at him. When he attempted to scare the bird away, he slipped and fell.
Sanders chased the geese over an area roughly the size of a football field, the police said. He stomped on three of the baby geese in the woods near the path, then chased the other two to the parking lot. He killed one on one side of the lot and the other nearly 30 yards away, the police said.
"One of the goslings killed in the parking lot was squashed almost flat," according to a police statement.

I'd be willing to bet that ol' John has some issues simmering beneath the surface. Turns out he got fired for his goose stomping too and lots of people are really pissed off at him. Now his poor mother has come out to defend him. It's all very sad. You gotta wonder if he felt better afterward? I mean, at what point did he decide to do this? Did he just got into some sort of rage-induced trance? Over a goose? . . . The truth is always stranger than fiction.

SWC

Shot Down!

2005-05-09T10:00:00.000-06:00

Swimmers, Well, it's official. I've been shot down by the Guinness Book of World Records. They have (quite unceremoniously) rejected my request to Eat a Copy of the 2005 Anniversary Edition. See below:

Claim ID: 139509
Membership Number: 127876

Dear Mr Church

Thank you for sending us the details of your recent record proposal for 'Eating a Copy of the Guinness Book of World Record'. We are afraid to say that we are unable to accept this as a Guinness World Record.

We have considered your proposal carefully but regret that it is not something for which we are currently interested in listing a record. We receive over 60,000 enquiries a year from which only a small proportion are approved by our experienced researchers to establish new categories.

We appreciate that this may be disappointing to you. We are always keen to hear from people who wish to set a Guinness World Record. If you should need any advice regarding record breaking in the future, please do not hesitate to contact us, quoting the above membership number.

Once again thank you for your interest in Guinness World Records.

Yours sincerely,
Scott Christie
Records Research Services

So I guess that's it. Perhaps I could approach the International Federation of Competitive Eating? Should I ask for further advice? I think so. I mean, why not? Perhaps I can strike up a friendship with Mr. Scott Christie. Perhaps we can have tea and biscuits some day and he can stun me with the secrets of the Guinness World . . . Or maybe not.

SWC

Avon Calling

2005-05-07T16:52:00.000-06:00

Seventh and Eighth Graders, Yesterday I visited the 7/8 writing class of Ms. Hughes at Eagle County Charter School. I was invited to read, lead a workshop, and give a talk about writing. Ms. Hughes--Hilary--was in the CSU Writing Project Workshop I lead a couple of years ago and, ever since, has been using Guinness Quotes as writing prompts. In a group of 30 or so kids, there were 3 boys! . . . and I'm sorry, but that's just sad. We need to encourage boys to love books and learning and school. They get enough encouragement to be violent sexual beings. Why not the other way? . . . But I had a great time talking with kids. They're just so honest and sincere. Simultaneously the hardest and easiest audience. We did some writing activities and I read some stuff from the book . . .later Hilary set up a reading for me at Loaded Joe's coffehouse in Avon, where close to sixty people packed in for my reading--most of them between the ages of 9 and 12. I had a really great time and the kids seemed to enjoy it too . . . . I worry a little that my book isn't really a kid's book. But it doesn't get too weird and freaky until closer to the end. I hope I don't get any angry emails from parents . . . Or maybe I do. Might be kind of interesting.

SWC

Rocky Mountain Nudes

2005-05-07T16:46:00.000-06:00

Sunbathers, Check out this review in the Rocky Mountain News. Gotta appreciate the local love . . .

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/books/article/0,1299,DRMN_63_3755641,00.html

There's even a picture. I'm so damn handsome, sometimes it hurts.

SWC

Groucho Marxism

2005-05-03T13:46:00.000-06:00

Sports Fans, Thanks to our friend, Trevor for passing on this little tidbit from the Columbus, GA Inquirer-Ledger. I'll just give you the quote and let the irony settle into your bones like a nice whiskey-drunk:

"Don't forget that this Saturday's when local advocates for the mentally ill hope to get in the Guinness Book of World Records by having at least 1,000 people don novelty Groucho Marx glasses and pose for a photo."

BTW, I'm still waiting for approval for my Record Attempt . . . fingers crossed.

SWC

More on Portland (Mortland)

2005-04-28T16:06:00.000-06:00

Tattooeen, So I spent the weekend in Portland, home of Powells--the World's Coolest Bookstore--and McMenamen's Tavern--an all-around hipster franchise of everything cool. You know this organization? They buy up old buildings--a lot of schools and rundown resorts--and turn them into restuarants, bars, movie theaters, and hotels (sometimes all in one). I was there for this Wordstock Writer's Festival (1st. Annual Event) and they had a little get-together at the Kennedy School McMenaman's . . . OK, so it appears like most of the writers avoided the engineered social hour--just a few sad sacks sitting at round tables, leering pensively at the doorway--but the location was just ultra-cool. It's an old elementary school with these little bars tucked into various nooks and crannies, along with a huge restaurant and beer garden, movie theatre, and (for all I know) a freakin' day care center and independent bookstore (OK, so it doesn't have these last two things. I checked. But it's still ultra-cool.) If ever you find yourself in Portland, check out a McMenamen's location. The Kennedy School actually has a beer tank with a picture of my stepdad John's aunt Gertrude. His sister attended elementary school there . . .

I dined with my lovely wife and numerous dear friends, several of whom traveled from Seattle and/or Los Angeles to be there. We also happened to run into an old friend of Rachel's from college, Maryanne, who was waiting tables and managing the restaurant there. Haven't seen her for 12 years, I think. Crazy, huh? . . .

I read at the Oregon Convention Center on an appropriately rainy day. They had me listed under the heading, "Fiction Reading," and paired with a "thriller" novelist named John Smolens, who teaches at Northern Michigan and is, by all accounts, a supremely decent person and a dynamite fiction writer. We basically read to each other's families . . . The Wordstock people also had the name of my book misspelled ("Guiness" with one "n") and somehow failed to have any of my books available for sale . . . The poor woman charged with taking responsibility for this apologized profusely and seemed nearly on the verge of tears . . . But what are you gonna do? I just directed people to Powells . . . The most popular author of the day? Guess . . . . Phil Lesh . . . bass player for the Grateful Dead (and a pretty crappy bass player to boot. Have you ever heard him sing? Good lord) and not really an author or writer. He had a line around the freakin' gymnasium. People were informed that he would sign only books--no shirts, pants, underwear, or bare breasts . . . I on the other hand would have been more than happy to sign some bare breasts, butt cheeks, or thong panties . . . You could have probably talked me into signing some Tighty-Whiteys . . . I aim to please.

SWC

Confirmation Station

2005-04-28T12:06:00.000-06:00

Chums, Check it out. Straight from the Mother Ship:

Thank you for registering your record attempt with Guinness World Records. One of our representatives will contact you within the next 4-6 weeks with a decision on your record request.

If your suggested record is approved, we will get back to you with rules and regulations so that you may attempt your proposed record. If you havealready attempted a record, and we are interested in your submission, we may ask for the documentation needed to verify the record.

Should your record proposal/attempt be unsuccessful, we will send you a detailed reason outlining our decision and we will often suggest asimilar, existing record. Our online tracking service enables you to track the progress of yourrecord claim through the Guinness World Records website. You will need your membership number and password to access this service - these will be sent to you once your claim has been assigned to a researcher.

Thank you for contacting Guinness World Records. Good luck!

Record Research Services, Guinness World Records

Oh, I'm all tingley inside! . . . What if they actually approve it? Is a week long enough? Maybe I need 10 days?

SWC

NEWS FLASH: It's Official!

2005-04-28T11:22:00.000-06:00

Bibliophiles, OK, so one of the most common questions I get these days is whether I've ever tried to get into the Guinness Books and I always confess that I haven't . . . Well, that may all change very soon (or in about 4-6 weeks, depending on how long it takes for them to process my request). Yes, it's official. I have submitted a proposal to the Guinness World Records Organization to attempt a World Record . . . (drum-roll please) . . .

I, Steven Church, propose to eat a copy (most likely paperback) of the 2005 Anniversary Edition of the Guinness Book of World Records, cover-to-cover in 7 days. I will shred, blend, and cook the book into my food, documenting every step of the preparation and consumption. I will also document each recipe used throughout the week and each meal with a digital video camera. I will eat every meal in the presence of no less than 2 unrelated witnesses.

The truth is I don't even know if someone else has already done this. I don't even know if I can actually do it. But it seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago. Maybe I'm hungry? Plus I figure it could make for some great publicity . . . I know, shameless. What can I say? I may regret this. On the other hand, I could actually get into the Guinness Books. How cool would that be?

SWC

Peace, Love, and Blue Hair

2005-04-27T16:30:00.000-06:00

Hippies, OK, it's official. Portland has the highest number of tattoos of any city in the U.S. . . . No wait, let me amend that to really express the level of tattoo saturation that exists in Portland . . . Portland officially has the lowest percentage of total citizens without facial tattoos of any city in the U.S. . . . Not only is it still very cool to get tattoos in Portland, but apparently it's very cool to get them on your forehead, cheek, nose, neck, or skull . . . I felt positively naked.

More on Portland soon, but my biggest regret of the entire tour was not standing in line for a VooDoo Doughnut late last Saturday in downtown Portland. The line was out the door and we'd apparently just been beaten there by a dyed-hair-club group "function" of sorts. Regardless of my exhaustion, general grumpiness, and restlessness, I clearly should have stayed in line for the chance to sample a Cap'N Crunch doughnut, a Pepto Bismol doughnut, or a Maple/Bacon Bar that features actual strips of bacon. What the hell was I thinking?!!!!

SWC

Bookfreakfest

2005-04-27T16:07:00.000-06:00

Sugar, First, a couple of quick plugs for the books I've been reading throughout most of the Magical Mystery Tour . . . El Numero Uno: Candyfreak, by Steve Almond: funny, poignant, fascinating, sugary, and "enrobed" (as in "I watched my bar get enrobed"). Not only is Steve a profoundly freaky guy with a keen eye for character, scene, etc. but he's a dynamite writer and all around decent human being who understand the value of obsession. Plus he's hilarious . . . Also started Tobias Wolff's Old School. We're doing it as part of the Reading Across the Curriculum at RWU this fall and Mr. Wolff will be gracing us with his presence in September. I hesitate to comment since I'm only about halfway through the book, but it's got the same subtle seduction of any Wolff book--that kind of voice that grabs you, holds you, and won't let you go no matter how boring the subject matter seems. Truthfully, I don't really care too much about a New England boarding school in the fifties--at least not unless T. Wolff is writing about it. How does he do that? . . . And finally this book, Rats, that I heard about on NPR. So it's about rats, right? Yes. But it's also about humans and society and New York City and immigrants and the American dream . . .and I'm not even a 1/3 of the way through it. Check them out. You won't be disappointed . . .

SWC

The Benefits of Sales Tax

2005-04-26T14:56:00.000-06:00

Taxpayers, Praise your local sales tax. Be happy to pay it. Support your schools. Build sidewalks. Fund welfare programs. Why? Because without it, you have ridiculously exorbitant costs for things like speeding tickets. For example, Rachel and I were driving from Portland to the suburb of Hillsboro, cresting a hill at the front of a pack of cars traveling at 65-70 miles per hour, when a PIG on a motorcycle aimed his gun and nailed us . . . He presented us a ticket for $330.00 for going 5 mph over the flow of traffic speed. Are you kidding me? Isn't that just a bit ridiculous? I'll pay my few extra cents on a cup of coffee to avoid having to shell out 330 bucks for a freaking speeding ticket . . . not the best welcome to Oregon for us. But at least he was fast about it. No messing around. Here's your ticket and goodbye . . .

SWC

Third Place Space

2005-04-26T10:57:00.000-06:00

True Believers, What can I say about a city that can support such a massive and all-encompassing bookstore? Seattle is great. Third Place Books is huge and sits adjacent to a large food-court area. There's a giant chessboard, benches everywhere, poofy leather chairs, and tons of books. They made an announcement over the store PA for my reading. . . It wasn't the biggest crowd, but still an enthusiastic one. Two guys drove up from Tacoma after seeing me on television blathering on about "antibionics." One of them wore a hat and a blazer. He had very small hands. The other one, a jolly portly fellow, had hair down almost to his waist and a goatee. They showed up after I had already finished reading, but I offered to read a little longer just for them. The guy in the hat was a writer, he said. Working on fiction that's kind of autobiographical. Apparently his friend makes an appearance in one part of the "novel." But you can tell he's kind of struggling to figure out if it's really fiction or not. Of course I feel that my mission in these circumstances is to encourage them to read more nonfiction, more memoir, and to consider using that genre as the way to approach a personal story . . . Most of the time, people don't want to hear this. But he seemed genuinely interested. I also made some comment about how I thought a lot of postmodern fiction was really half-assed nonfiction essay about writing or about fiction . . . In fact, a lot of postmodern fiction apes the traditional forms and styles of nonfiction, not to mention the authorial presence . . . OK, so I probably lost a few people with that stuff. Still, I seemed to make a connection with these guys, even in all of my egg-headed writer-speak; and I present the following exchange with the portly bearded fellow, who just so happens to be a truck driver; and I present it without comment, critique, or interpretation, believing it's best just to let the words speak for themselves:

"I'm gonna have to put your book on another shelf," he says, nodding and smiling, sort of puffing his chest up. ""Cause I've got one whole shelf full of my Star Wars Books. Every one of them. I've read all 65," he says proudly, kind of bouncing around on his toes.

"Wow," I say, "That's a lot of books."

"Yep," he says, "Read every single one of them."

"Well," I say. "I hope you like my book."

I quickly changed the subject to an abbreviated discussion of the recent trend in Star Wars "fan films" where people spend thousands of dollars and years of time making tribute movies that will probably never make a dime or see the light of a movie screen. As I left the two of them were sitting at a table, waiting on plates of barbecue, each of them holding my book open . . . Just further examples of the sublime joy it is meeting people on this book tour-thing. You just gotta love it . . .

SWC

The Prattle in Seattle

2005-04-25T08:31:00.000-06:00

Rainmakers, So I landed in Seattle at 12:30 a.m. and met my dear friends, Megan and Darrel in the aiport . . . sacked out by 2:00 a.m., up by 7:30, drinking coffee, watching the sun pink-up the foggy sky. Their house sits up on Beacon Hill and huge picture windows look out over the city. On a clear day, you can see the mountains to the East . . . My "Escort" shows up promptly at 8:30. Joan is her name and she does this for a living--drive writers around that is. She works for a company that specializes in the coddling of writers. Really it's more driving them to appointments and ushering them into waiting rooms. She gets a lot of free books out of the deal. We had a 9 am radio spot that lasted all of 3 or 4 minutes. A jolly guy named Don Riggs peppered me with a few questions, chuckled heartily through most of my answers and then bid me farewell . . . Joan and I grabbed some coffee and I tried to get her to spill the beans on especially difficult jobs she's had. Unfortunately she didn't have much. Just a a few predictable comments about how bizarre William Volman is. But anyone who's read his work could probably imagine him being a lot worse than he really is in person. Apparently he was just kind of creepy and lecherous, making a point of telling Joan that he would be having sex with someone later that night. I've heard that women mostly avoid him because he's such a nutjob sex fiend . . . The TV spot was on NWCN, a local station that focuses on Seattle and Portland and beams its message out to 2 million homes. A handsome tanned guy named Scott (I think) interviewed me for a few minutes. I made a point of looking at him when I talked, trying tot keep my eyes from spinning wildly around in a panicked dance . . . I said the usual stuff and he ended with a comment about the "antibionics" line in the book on my childhood sickness. I explained that I'd been very sick as a kid and worried that the "antibionics" the doctor was giving me might ruin any chance I had to be a superhero--and that was it. They looped the interview and ran it all day long. I really didn't enjoy seeing myself on television. My head looks enormous and pale, like an albino watermelon, and my eyes seem sunken and "Lurch-like." But they ran it all day long, beamed out to those 2 million households. Yikes . . .

(more on the Seattle reading and Portland later)

SWC

Hazy Brain Day

2005-04-21T12:27:00.000-06:00

Lifers, Last night I read at Books Inc. in the heart of the Castro District, San Francisco (you'll be happy to hear, by the way, that the latest issue of "Butt" has hit the shelves) . . . truly a wild experience . . . cool little bookstore, and they did an awesome window display for the book and the reading . . . we had drinks beforehand at a bar called "Lime," which is very hip and "mod" with lots of white furniture and seventie-looking cube chairs, not to mention the ubiquitous "lime" and orange colors that permeat the room--the kind of bar that makes me feel immediately self-conscious and dorky . . . but I was once again deeply and seriously touched by the kindness of my friends (my brothers from other mothers). Both Rob, the HH, and Matt and Darcy Cobb traveled hundreds of miles to see me read. Are you kidding me? I mean, that's just not the kind of thing most people do for each other is it? I'm really blown away by it all . . . also got to meet Beverly, a S&S rep for the Bay Area and her husband, Jeff, who are supremely kind and generous people. They really liked the book and came all the way out just to meet me . . . Wow, huh? Unfortunately I had to literally jet off immediately after the reading and take a 10:30 flight to Seattle, arriving at 12:30 am . . . then up for a 9:00 am taped radio spot . . .

SWC

Reminders

2005-04-20T00:22:00.000-06:00

Remind me to tell you about the following things later:

1. Old man in yellow riding a yellow scoooter, wearing yellow and purple Magic Johnson Converse Weapon tennis shoes.

2. Racist Armenian cabdriver.

3. Big fat party animal at seafood restaurant wearing a paper-bib--possibly his own, not issued by said restuarant.

4. Two young boys teasing the sea lions, calling them "Manatees," worried about violating penal codes against harrassing sea lions.

SWC

Clift Claven

2005-04-19T23:54:00.000-06:00

Patrons, Just a few thoughts, impressions, etc. on The Clift Hotel . . . First, no sign. No nothing. We pull up the curb in Rob's pickup and a handsome curly-haired man-boy wearing charcoal gray pants and a black sweater approaches the window and asks, "May I help you?" He's wearing an earpiece. We tell him we're guests and his demeanor is immediately gracious and helpful. Suddenly he has a luggage cart and then he's opening the door . . The lobby has a giant chair where Lily Tomlin's Edith Ann character would be comfortable (a chair that I have an overwhelming urge to mount wearing my white bathrobe and little else while consuming a $19 fruit smoothie) and lots of colorful, poofy furniture-like objects, glass tables and an absolutely bizarre little side-room paneled in redwood with little nooks filled with pictures of dogs, cats, donkeys, and various other animals . . .In the bar they have plasma screens where pictures of beautiful model-types shift and morph, changing subtly . . .

We check in and take the elevator to the eleventh floor . . . Our room has mirrored walls and you can't help but look at yourself . . . Not to say that the Humboldt Hillbilly isn't an adonis-like specimen, but we just get kind of tired of seeing each other in reflection, so we try to close these big-ass pink drapes that are all over the room, but they won't budge and dust bunnies drift from their folds, telling us nobody else has even thought about covering up all the damn mirrors . . .

As we're leaving for the first time, heading down to the Warf for some fried fish and other treats (I got an Idaho Spud at the Candy Baron, a candy with a chocolate-marshmallow filling that can only be described as the consistency of latex caulk. In front of me at the cashier was a young curvy couple in tight pants who purchased some candy, walked outside, and immediately began mashing in broad daylight, slobbering all over each other. We speculated that they were swapping candy in some bizarre foreplay exchange of pop-rocks or fireballs . . .) Anyway, the HH and I are heading down the hall and I see an elevator, so I push the button. The door opens and we step inside. (It should be noted first that the elevator we took up to the room was paneled in green plastic and glowed like an aquarium). THIS elevator had a rubber mat on the floor and dirty carpet walls. An asian cleaning woman stood in the corner, holding a bucket and rag. The doors closed and I noticed a sign on the wall instructing the service people how to treat the guests (more later) and began to wonder if we hadn't stepped into the wrong elevator. We dropped a floor and another cleaning woman got on. I whispered to HH, "Did we get on the wrong one?" but he was too busy chatting it up with the ladies to notice. We lowered another floor and I asked, "Are we on the wrong elevator?" and one woman said, "Yes, service elevator," and we knew we'd just unwittingly climbed aboard the service elevator. As we exited, the women burst into chirping, cackling laughter at the folly of two large shaved-headed dolts riding the wrong elevator . . . perfect. Absolutely freakin' perfect!

Changing Hands

2005-04-19T19:57:00.000-06:00

Readers, Last night at Changing Hands was great . . . a testament to the good friends my parents have. The whole room it seemed was populated by their friends and that's cool. I mean, think about that. They don't know me besides whatever stories my mom or John has passed on. Why bother? But I had a great time . . . met a woman who bought three books and was friends with two brothers who were former Guinness Record Holders in push-ups and sit-ups . . . met a student at ASU who just came for the heck of it and was thinking of applying to CSU . . . met just lots of wonderfully kind people. My mom's whole book club came, I think. They sold all 25 copies of the book they had in stock . . . I know, only 25? What are you gonna do? Still, I had a fabulous time. I used to visit the old store in dowtwon Tempe, descend to the basement, and browse through their vast selection of used books. It was a wonderful store and still is . . . Happy to read there. No guys with walkie-talkies, thankfully.

SWC

Guerrilla Marketing

2005-04-18T11:20:00.000-06:00

Minions, Oh, you're going to love this . . . So I dropped like maybe 10 fliers on tables in the MU and pretty soon this guy in black pants carrying a walkie-talkie shows up and quickly gathers up all the fliers he can grab. He's reading the flier and talking into his hand. He crumples the flier up and looks rather annoyed. I imagine phone calls going out, legions of janitorial peons sent to erase the scourge of fliers. Oh, the evil. Oh, the drama . . . Do you think he goes home at night and complains to his wife and kids about the insidious flier-dropper. I like to think he's haunted, troubled, disturbed . . . But now I'm sweating even more, hiding the evidence. Jeez, I'm not cut out for this sort of espionage.

SWC

Marlin Sighting

2005-04-18T11:13:00.000-06:00

Nature Lovers, It's true. I have added another to my list, the rare and elusive Marlin. Frightened by my hasty approach, he did indeed prolapse his stomach in an impressive display of defensive evisceration. Bits of fish. Sea foam. Shards of seashells on the floor. A sickly salty smell, like the locker-room at the public beach . . . After assuring him that I meant no harm and helping him gather up his intestines, the Marlin and I repaired to Pranksters Gar and Brill for a couple of late-night drinks . . . just great to see him again. Great to talk about books again.

SWC

Massiveness

2005-04-18T10:54:00.000-06:00

Ludites, I'm still recovering from getting lost the other night . . . Now sitting in a Starbucks on the ASU campus, listening to Ol' Country--mostly Willie Nelson. Killing time. Dropping fliers. Waiting for Mom. I'm struck by the enormity of the place (48,000 students!)--but realize that some of my sensitivity to it comes from my impending move to a school that is literally 1/12 the size of ASU. Their Memorial Union alone could probably hold half the buildings at Roger Williams . . . At the next table, a kid in a backwards baseball cap transcribes something in Japanese or Chinese, filling up lines of notebook paper with intricate scratchings . . . another kid with his cap slightly askew repeatedly dabs at his face with a tissue, pressing the paper into his cheeks and nose and forehead. Why? Is he leaking? Oozing? I don't understand and keep hoping that I'll overhear some explanation for this . . . a sight-impaired woman sits with her dog. She is reading, her eyes just scant centimeters from the page, the tip of her nose brushing the words . . . a man in a leather vest. American Flag patch reads, "Try Burning This One Asshole."

OK, I officially have too much coffee in my system. My skin feels too tight. My fingers are sweating.

SWC

Chess Attack

2005-04-17T09:09:00.000-06:00

Beats, In the paper this morning there was a story about Gary Kasparov, Russian Chess Champ, being assaulted in public and hit over the head with a chessboard. He called it a "politically motivated" attack . . .

Last night I felt like I'd been hit over the head with a chessboard (how's that for a segue?) . . . Arrived in Phoenix and had a lovely dinner at a fabulous Italian restaurant in, of all places, a strip mall . . . but that's really what it's like here. Phoenix is so new, so modern and American, that the oldest developments are often strip malls, the best restaurants crammed in next to a Mailboxes Etc. and a Pet Store . . . in any case, best gnocchi I've ever had--homemade, fluffy potato pasta . . .

Later I made the ill-fated decision to drive to Tempe to visit The Marlin. I get on the Interstate and immediately wonder why. So many people moving so fast for vague reasons. Lights. Accidents. And the goddamn 202 is closed! I'm screwed. I drive for a while on I-10, not really sure where I'm going, and then take an exit that says, "Broadway" because that's one of the cross streets in my directions. Soon I'm cruising past strip club after strip club and large gatherings of people in small loud cars, a rodeo of some sort, and industrial factory-looking places. A pattern of red lights twinkles from a hillside. I'm so completely lost . . . I have to call Mom. Poor woman has to listen to me in the grips of a full-on panic trying to tell her where I am, what direction I'm traveling (no idea. It's dark!) . . . I'm losing it. I hate to be lost . . . And then I'm here again, just a few blocks from Mom's house . . . I crawl into bed and fall asleep.

SWC

Mothra V. The Marlin

2005-04-15T15:02:00.000-06:00

Young Readers, This weekend I shall be spirited away on the back of the mighty Mothra, his paper wings powdering me with dust motes, and I shall fly to yonder desert, where the dastardly Marlin awaits . . . Yes, it's true, I may not returned unscatehed. For few who battle The Marlin and his hideous prolapsed stomach live to tell their story. He hides in wait for me, at the Temple of Tempe, his legions of Sundevils jabbing at me with their tiny pitchforks . . . But lo dost thou fury tremble and shake, and I shall smite mine enemies unti they are smoten and no more smiting is to be done . . .basically until I'm all smited out.

Ok, so I'm just visiting some friends and family in Phoenix. I have a reading Monday night at Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe. 7:00 p.m. My expectations of this event are a bit different . . . not looking for the same sort of emotional homecoming that I had in Lawrence, but the change will be good . . . just afraid that I'll be reading to like 10 people. So I got some guerilla marketing fliers that I'll drop on campus that day, just to spread the word, birds . . .

SWC

Stee V

2005-04-14T08:56:00.000-06:00

12:21 p.m. The author sits in his sister-in-law's Volkswagen in the parking lot on FOX4 News at Noon. A woman is standing on the front steps, waving her hand and yelling and the pizza driver, who is just now pulling away . . . The author decides to phone his wife. He just needs to hear her voice. He misses her for some reason . . .

12:23 p.m. The author reads through an Art Center Auction list he found in the car, puzzling over the variety of narrative/bio-things that describe the work. No pictures. Just names and these little paragraphs. Some of them make no sense at all to him, but it gives him something to do, a way to kill time here in the parking lot . . .

12:27 The author decides to enter the building. He gathers up his book, locks the doors, and makes his way inside. At the front desk is the woman he'd seen earlier. She's a receptionist and she calls him, "Honey," when she tells him to wait on some poofy couches . . .

12:30 The author sits in a chair watching a television on the wall with a broadcast of the very show on which he's supposed to appear at 12:40. The author doesn't want to look at his watch. He expected something else--perhaps to be whisked off into a back room where make-up is applied and shiny spots on his head are powdered for the cameras, at the very least some instruction about how to sit or speak or what to do with his hands . . . but nothing . . .

12:35 The author sits in a chair watching a television on the wall . . . something is wrong . . . perhaps they're skipping him today . . . who cares about a book, a memoir for God's sake when some poor 7 yr old kid was hit crossing the street. Fortunately he seems to be OK. His brothers and sisters were there with him and apparently they cross the street every day to attend a school that is outside of their home district and this appears to be somehow controversial or problematic in a newsworthy sort of way . . .

12:38 The author is greeted by "Kimberly" who escorts him through a large gray door, down a hall, to the right, and hands him off to a man wearing headphones and a white mustache, a man who instructs him to sit in a chair on the set and then hands him a microphone, which the author threads up through his shirt and clips to the fabric . . .

12:38:26 The author is greeted by a very short and very tan man, who holds the book in on hand and shakes with the other. The other doesn't actually catch the guy's name, but this seems Ok since the man says, "Hey Steve, I haven't actually read your book, so we'll be kind of winging it." And the author is beginning to realize that this is how it always goes. He doesn't actually expect this guy to sit down and read his book for a five minute spot on the Midday show, but he does get a little worried when the next thing the man says is, "So this is fiction, right? It's a novel?" The author explains rapidly that it is, in fact, a memoir about his obsession with the Guinness Books and about growing up with his father and brother, etc. . .

12:40 The author sees his book cover on the monitors. He has no idea where the cameras are. There are lots of big boxy things in front of him, large bright lights, and people moving around, most of them not paying any attention to him at all. He sees the teleprompter start to scroll and the man next to him starts talking and this is how he knows that they are on the air. Fortunately, when he gets to the part of the prompter that says, "a work of fiction" he changes it mid-sentence and says, "a work of nonfiction." Nice job, the author thinks . . .but he doesn't have much time to think because now the man is talking to him about the book and he is trying to say intelligent things and not gesticulate wildly with his hands. The author still has no idea where he should be focusing his attention and feels his eyes spinning wildly around, searching for a spot, and finally decides just to look at the man sitting next to him, the man asking the questions . . .

12:?? And then it is over and the author is un-clipping the microphone and waving at the female news anchor and watching the meteorologist in a green mini-dress and knee-high leather boots wave her arm in front of a blank wall . . and the man he talked with is leading him out of the studio, back down the hall, to the door. He says, "This was great. Sounds like a cool book. I'll have to read it." And then the author is back out in the lobby, passing the desk. He asks the woman behind the desk, "How'd I do?" and she says, "Oh, you were good, baby. You were jazzin. You were jazzin," and the author thinks this may have been one of the nicest things she could have said to him . . .

SWC

Lie Berry

2005-04-14T07:48:00.000-06:00

Chitlins, More on my reading at the Lawrence Public Library . . . faces and names sort of blur together. It was a surreal swirl of color and people, a shotgun blast from the past, a slug to the sentimental gut. When I start ticking off names it gets overwhelming--all these people I knew as a kid, from my past, reading my book . . . really just very touching. When I first showed up, a few people approached and asked me to sign books. I got kind of tied up doing that, but one of the people was a white-haired bright-eyed woman who looked familiar. She said, "Do you remember me?" And just as I was placing her face, she said, "I'm Virgie Pine, your old Librarian at Hillcrest." I just about died. This woman was a big part of my childhood. Virgie Pine made me learn the Dewey Decimel System. She was tough but she loved books. That was obvious. And she had a soft spot for any kid who loved books too. She helped me find all the books on US Presidents I could find. She gave me my first copy of "My Side of The Mountain" and so many other influential books. She lives in a retirement home in Lawrence and a friend of hers heard me mention her name on Hank Booth's show in the morning. So it was truly one of the sweetest, most wonderful surprises I've experienced during this whole process to reconnect with Virgie Pine and tell her how much she meant to me . . . you really can't beat that stuff.

I read for twenty minutes, hitting them with the opening to "Bare Hand, Smashing" and then reading "Tongues, Speaking In" and ending with the section from "Trenchermen, Greatest" where I make fun of Rachel's family. They are such good sports. It went over well, got a lot of laughs. And I got the kind of applause that made me blush self-consciously . . . if only you could bottle that feeling and release in those darker moments. So BIG thanks to all the people of Lawrence who came out to support me. Much love.

SWC

Me and Mr. Bodine

2005-04-13T19:16:00.000-06:00

Pilgrims, On Tuesday Morning I had the distinct pleasure of visiting the Dean of Kansas City Broadcasting, Mr. Walt Bodine, a guy I'd seen on television when I was a kid and admired for his intelligent curmudgeon persona, and someone I'd listened to on the radio when I painted houses and was trying to survive. What can I say about the guy? He's awesome. I don't know how old, probably in his eighties and he's almost completely blind, hearing-impaired, and confined to a wheelchair. But he's pretty freakin' sharp and doesn't miss much. I had a great time chatting with him and appreciated every single time he said, "And there you are." If you want to listen and have a spare hour to hear me babble, check out the link below.

http://www.kcur.org/asx/index.asp?showname=walt&showmonth=4&showday=12&showyear=2005&submit=Start+Listening

p.s. He's given me a new nickname. It can't be helped. The emails have already begun. "Dennis Church" may stick for a while, possibly supplanting "Barry Church" as my favorite name mix-up.

SWC

Tipping KANU

2005-04-13T13:39:00.000-06:00

Kansas Public Radio: I did an interview with Laura Lorson at KANU in Lawrence on KUs campus after first wandering into KJHKs studio-barn and confusing the hell out of some poor mousy boy with headphones. When I told him I was looking for KANU, he said, This is KU. I enunciated clearly, K A N U, and he said, I dont even know what that is? as if I was speaking a foreign language. Ok, so the probably dont get a lot of walk-in traffic there. It was early in the morning by some peoples standards, but the KPR building is in a goddamn enormous Swiss-chalet looking building not 50 yards from where this kid was sitting . . . Anyway, I finally found my way there and had a lovely interview with Laura which I was able to catch on the car-radio while driving to KC for the Walt Bodine Show (more on that later). By the way, its very surreal to hear yourself speaking on the car stereo . . . Lauras husband owns one of the coolest record-shops in the world, Love Garden in downtown Lawrence. Check them out if youre ever in town. Laura herself used to produce Wait Wait Dont Tell Me for NPR and work with Peter Segel, who by the way seems like he might be kind of an ass (what do you think?) . . . She was fun and smart and we had a great talk . . .If I can figure out how, Ill try to post a portion of it on the web when I get the copy from her.
- OK, gotta run . . . more Lawrence stuff later.

Afterbirth

2005-04-13T13:37:00.000-06:00

- KLWN Radio Interview: I showed up at 8 am on Monday to do an interview with Hank Booth, legendary broadcaster and long-time radio personality in Lawrence, also owner of KLWN and KLZR . . .One problem. They had no record of me coming. But the receptionist assured me that I wouldn'tt be a problem. Hank rolled in about 2 minutes before we were set to be on the air, led me back to a small studio with a table, and asked me to sit down . . . Hank opened the segment by talking about birthing calf on his farm. Thats right. The lead-in to our interview was a story about yanking a baby cow out of its mothers reticent womb . . .
And we have a friend with us today, Steven Church. Welcome.
Ahhh, good ol Hank. Master of the segue. I felt like I should start talking about the worlds longest calving or largest calf or something about cows and cow-birthbut I had nothing . . .
So tell us about growing up in Lawrence, he demands.
I proceed to babble incoherently about my Elementary School and my Librarian (Virgie PineMore on her later!). All in all, a good interview. Hank lobbed some softballs my way and it went well.

Larry Love

2005-04-13T13:27:00.000-06:00

Larryville Love. It’s been a whirlwind couple of days in Lawrence and Kansas City with lots o’ love. Here’s a few notes, highlights, etc.

- Big spread in the LJ World featuring full-color graphics, quotes from parents—even a recording of me on their website .http://www.ljworld.com/section/sunliving/story/201572 . . . definitely one of the nicer articles/reviews. She clearly read the book and did her homework. It's just a well-written piece. She really thought about the book . . .
- KC Star review: Steve Weinberg, member of National Book Critics Circle wrote a review for the KC Star that showed up later in the Philadelphia Inquirer, http://www.philly.com/mld/inquirer/entertainment/books/11338116.htm. I'm glad it got picked up on the East Coast. (Does it sound familiar?)

SWC

Note: Polemical Rant to follow, filled with potentially offensive comments about the Great State of Kansas. If you are offended by sarcastic outrage, look away. . .

Evolution or "Intelligent Design": Kansas is completely f**ked up! In addition to recently forbidding the teaching of evolution (actually they said that science teachers have to teach “intelligent design” as a viable “scientific” alternative), they also passed (with a 70-30 margin) a ban on same-sex marriage . . . Granted, Lawrence and Douglas Counnty are quite literally an oasis of intelligent thinking in a state of ignorant sheep—the only county in the entire state to vote against the ban and to support the teaching of evolution as established, proven science!! . . . On the bright side, both debates have spawned some truly wonderful bumperstickers. Here’s a few:
o Kansas: As Bigoted as You Think (spoof on current KS ad campaign,“Kansas: As Big as You Think”)
o Stupidity Should be Painful
o What’s Next? Gravity? (well, actually yes. I mean, can we “prove” that gravity exists. If not, then we need to consider the possibility of Intelligent Design. Isn’t it just a conceivable that God or “The Creator” spends all of his free time keeping shit from flying off into space.)
o Give Evolution Two Opposable Thumbs-Up

SWC

Reading Jitters

2005-04-10T06:27:00.000-06:00

OK, so I’m a little nervous about the reading . . . not so much about actually reading (once I get going, I sort of get into a daze and don’t really notice faces in the crowd), but more about schmoozing with the Lawrence denizens, people who sort of know me, who used to know me . . . I’m beginning to feel like some goddamn prima donna rock star who shows up late and drunk for events then leaves early after one pathetic encore, demands Evian water and a bowl of M&M’s with the browns removed, and skips out of the venue, ducks into a waiting limousine, and jets off to the backroom of a swanky nightclub . . . OK, maybe not. I guess I just understand a little better what it’s like to be a performer, because that’s what these readings are, performances. You’re putting on a show. You’re acting . . . and Rachel and I were talking about how unique the reading is in the fine arts, where after the performance, the artist opens himself up for critique and questions about craft and process. How often do you get to go to an art opening and ask the painter, “What does your dad think about your paintings?” or “How long did it take you to paint that one?” . . . I like the whole Q&A thing, but it can be a little bizarre sometimes.

Lakeview Morning

2005-04-10T06:25:00.000-06:00

6:30 a.m. It’s a cacophony of songbirds this morning, a competing mish-mash of twitters and chirps and the stuttering hammer of a woodpecker. Then the honking of geese and the low glide of a cormorant starting with a swish and pap-pap-pap of wings and body hitting on the lake, then a rise and silence. Fish flap. The occasional guttural rumble of the coal-fired electric plant and a fat red sun hiding just above the horizon. It’s a pink ball, a gum-drop, a tongue wagging from a cloud. The sun is red and it’s disappearing as I type this . . .

We’re staying at Lakeview, a small privately owned fishing and hunting club northwest of Lawrence, where my parents and a few other folks have cabins. This is an old place, kind of battered and run down, but loved. The docks are pretty ghetto with no uniformity or consistency, and the same can be said for the cabins. We love it here. Rachel and I lived out here in College and I lived her by myself for a year (see later chapters in the book), so it feels comfortable—even if the cabin now is a far cry from the dinky, junk-filled squatter shack I inhabited (and loved dearly) . . .

Last night we watched an owl . . . or rather it watched us . . . and we caught glimpses of movement as it danced beneath the floodlights, hunting in the grass for mice. It was a ghost—there but not there, only visible in your peripheral. I think I saw its head twitching in the half-light, eyes panning the grass, then a quick flutter, leap, and dive . . .

Landed in Larry

2005-04-09T13:35:00.000-06:00

Afficionados, Yes, it's true. I have landed in Larry (Lawrence) for my Coming Home tour (anyone else get a blast of Crue to the senses at mention of those words?) . . Must write fast. Using dial-up. Long distance. Wracking up phone bills at my parents' house. It's hot here! And green! . . . always bittersweet to be home. Nostalgia is a knot, a weight, a team of oxen . . . keep your eyes peeled in the Lawrence Journal World tomorrow for a big spread on the book www.ljworld.com . . Gotta figure out what I'm going to read on Monday and Tuesday . . .The book tour madness is just beginning. Monday I've got two interviews, two more on Tuesday . . stay tuned for my trip to San Fran, the poshy-posh Clift hotel, and madcap adventures with the Humboldt Hillbilly, Bobby Drake. Oh, the madness!

SWC

All Steve, all the time.

2005-04-08T13:59:00.000-06:00

If you're in Kansas Monday don't miss Steve's reading.
Or else.

Lawrence, Kansas April 11 - The Raven Bookstore - Lawrence Public Library / Speaking & Signing @ 7:00 p.m.

It'll be worth it... I promise.

Bigfoot Stole my Cracker

2005-04-08T08:46:00.000-06:00

Philes, Last night I attended a reading at CSU by fiction writer Ron Carlson, author of several novels and gobs of short stories (Plan B for The Middle Class, At the Jim Bridger, and his most recent selected stories, A Kind of Flying). He teaches at Arizona State University . . . He started with a satirical spoof on the Letter of Rec (confessing that he's written almost 50 in the last 3 months), where he wholeheartedly recommends the student who is, at this very moment, composing his brilliant novel, at the steering wheel of his car, beneath the streetlight in front of the professor's house, taping pages of the tome to the professor's door every 3 hours--a novel where said professor is a "fictional" antagonist to the student's protagonist in some kind of protracted psycho-drama . . . In other words, fun, well-written, a nice warm-up for the crowd . . . then he got down to business with a story called "The Ordinary Brother," about Reid, the middle child in a "genius" family that begins with a kind of innocent and unreliable voice and lots of exposition about Reid's family--the prodigy children and their anti-social genius parents--and just when you're afraid that this sweeping narrative will leave this poor people in the land of charicature, the narrator grows up and the voice settles down (literally and figuratively) into several lovely moments and swampy scenes where Reid gets deeper and the unreliable quality of voice begins to dissipate as he comes to grip with his life between the insanely romantic world on his genius family and the ridiculously real and base world of his buddy, Jeff, who digs pornography and other lower pursuits. Reid likes fishing and his Plymouth Fury. His brother Garrett is imprisoned in some "genius" ward at the U. of Houston and the final scence between the two is the kind of stuff we read fiction for--undeniably real and sad and also somehow heroic--the best sort of ending, inevitable and unpredictable . . .

Did I mention that Carlson is a great guy too? Easy going, unpretentious . . . said several times that he was a "teacher who had written some books" and you got the feeling that, while partially rhetoric, it was mostly true (I mean, I have trouble accepting that any writer is a completely ego-less teacher devoted to the education of others, especially someone with as many books as Carlson has. Don't you have to be a little bit selfish just to write in the first place?) What I should say is this . . . If I was a student looking for a mentor and an MFA program, I'd be mailing my stuff to this guy . . . (BTW, ASU rejected me soundly when I applied to their MFA program.)

Check out some of Carlson's work collected in "A Kind of Flying." You won't be disappointed (gotta love his pairing of stories "Bigfoot Stole my Wife" and the response, "I am Bigfoot.")

SWC

Tattered Remains

2005-04-06T11:04:00.000-06:00

Cupcakes, Have you seen the website? Nice, huh? Big THANKS to Rubberpants for the work.

I read last night at the Tattered Cover Bookstore in Cherry Creek--still one of the World's Greatest bookstores. After slamming down two double Jack-n-Cokes at the Cherry Cricket (two doubles! Jesus, no wonder I felt a little loopy walking to the reading . . . ), I found my way back to the store, descended the stairs, and was greated with what is still one of the most glorious images I've ever personally encountered--an entire bookshelf loaded with MY books . . . more fear at touching it, afraid it's just a slippery mirage . . .My new friend, Christine at the TC introduced me and said lots of nice things, and then I climbed the little step and stood in front of the podium and looked out . . . and was struck by how unbelievably lucky I am to have such great friends who would come here, to this basement in a bookstore, and listen to stories they've probably already heard before.

When I finished reading, I took questions from the audience and the first came from a woman in the front row, "Am I the only person here that you don't know."
I looked around the room. "Nope. I don't know that woman," I said, pointing at the only other stranger in the place. "Or that guy," I said, picking out another one I didn't know. Out of the 20+ people, there were only three I didn't know.
As it turned out, the woman had some keen insights on the book and asked some good questions. She was, as Rachel discovered, the writer of a coming review of the book in the Rocky Mountain News.

All in all, a great time . . . I signed the TC guest book right after Roger Ebert, who illustrated his signature with a cartoon thumbs-up (show off!).

SWC

Steve reads! Tonight!

2005-04-05T13:17:00.000-06:00

Don't miss Steve reading tonight:

Denver, Colorado April 5 - Tattered Cover (Cherry Creek)/Speaking & Signing @ 7:30 p.m

For more information on his future readings, see his "Sightings" page.

Official Website Now Online!

2005-04-05T13:14:00.000-06:00

Although it'll most certainly be changed as time moves forward, Steve's new webpage is now up for business!

You should really go take a look:
guinnessbookofme.com

Lots of interesting stuff up there...

Reflections on Roy

2005-04-05T10:59:00.000-06:00

Campers,

I awoke this morning with a sense of dread and anxiety . . . not because I had a phone interview in an hour, but because I was struck with the realization that the college basketball season was over. Finished. Done. It hurts to even type that. Sure, I had to watch my beloved Jayhawks fall to the lowly Bucknell Bison (when was the last time they had a freakin' bison in Pennsylvania?). That was hard. I wanted to root for Gonzaga and that floppy-haired kid, Adam Morrison (who loves Che Guevarra), but then they went and lost too . . . Next I faced the angst-tinged dilemma of choosing whether to root for North Carolina or not. I wanted to root for Roy. I wanted to be a good sport, a big man, and refute Rachel's contention that my inability to be truly happy for Roy and North Carolina was a sign of a serious character flaw . . . I felt like I should root for Roy, but I had trouble--right up until last night. I can do without that Rashad McCants and his prima donna b.s. (though he is a ridiculously gifted athlete who would be stupid not to go straight to the NBA), but I can watch Sean May all night long. That guy is just good. Soft hands. Strength. And the key to all great post play--footwork. Raymond Felton is fun too--though I think he's lost a step or two since his freshman year. Anyway, I just found my heart rooting for UNC when Illinois made that fabulous comeback. I wanted Roy to get his championship. And then he goes and gives some props to the KU players he left behind (which was a little weird and awkward but so typically Roy). Way to go, Huckleberry Hound!

SWC

Interview with USA Radio Network

2005-04-05T07:42:00.000-06:00

Soldiers, At 7:20 a.m. this morning I conducted a phone interview with Al Lerner and Richard Stevens of USA Radio, for their program "Daybreak." A sampling:

Al: "So, Steve, what kind of person does Kansas produce?"

(confused pause, labored breathing . . .)

Me: "Oh, geez, well. I guess it produces someone with a deep appreciation for freaks and the deliciously weird people in the Guinness Books . . . that's what kind of person Kansas produces. And lots of other really smart people."

(crickets chirping, wind blowing . . .)

(What?!) OK, so not the most auspicious beginning, but the interview turned out pretty good. Al seemed pretty sharp. He asked some good questions, particularly the one about whether I got to know the Guinness characters better. I think I did, actually, even if a lot of my "investigations" were more imaginative and speculative than anything else.

There's something very strange about the radio interview . . . where the host is not really talking to you but to the audience out there in the morning ether . . . their job seems more prompter than questioner. I suppose it's a good thing that I can fill tons of air time babbling about the Guinness Books . . .

Yes, this is the same radio network that produces Armed Forces Radio. Of course I only discovered its conservative slant to many of the shows minutes after completing the interview and "googling" the host, Al Lerner. . . .Hmmm, I like the sound of that, "I googled a talk show host today." Sounds rather lurid doesn't it. "Later on, I blogged him."

You can listen live at http://usaradio.com/daybreak.htm. I think it's airing tomorrow morning. Here's a schedule in EST (below). Not sure how you can find it on the radio, but you can listen online.

5:05 am DayBreak USA (1st Hour) :55 min.
6:05 am DayBreak USA (2nd Hour) :55 min.
7:05 am DayBreak USA (3rd Hour) :55 min.
8:05 am DayBreak USA (4th Hour) :55 min.
9:05 am DayBreak USA (1st Hour Repeat) :55 min.
10:05 am DayBreak USA (2nd Hour Repeat) :55 min.
11:05 am DayBreak USA (3rd Hour Repeat) :55 min.

SWC

Journal World Interview

2005-04-04T14:55:00.000-06:00

Buffs, Check this Sunday's issue of the Journal World www.ljworld.com for an interview with me . . . boy, talk about a flood of nostalgia . . . I started babbling all about the Reading Bubble they used to have at the Lawrence Public Library--basically this clear plastic bubble the size of a 10-person tent that was inflated with a standard box fan. They'd erect that thing in the middle of the Library and hold Children's Storytime in the bubble . . . the poor librarian crammed in there on a wooden bench, her head just centimeters from the ceiling, trying to read over the competing din of the box fan . . . it was glorious, claustrophobic, noisy, and magical . . . and I have this fantasy that the will pull the Reading Bubble out of the basement and erect it for my reading next week. Every time I talk with someone at the Library, I ask them about it and I can tell they think I'm slightly insane. Oh well.

Mindi Paget, the interviewer, was dynamite. Well-prepared. Great questions. She knew her stuff. I'm sure she'll make me sound smarter than I really am.

-- SWC

Volunteer Border Patrols?

2005-04-04T08:31:00.000-06:00

Apparently they now have armed volunteer border patrols in Arizona.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/04/03/border.volunteers.ap/index.html

Check out this quote:

Many of the volunteers were recruited over the Internet and some plan to be armed.
"Everything seems to be going well," said Carol Capas, a spokeswoman for the Cochise County Sheriff's Office.

This should be accompanied by a dramatic pause and an ominous "duh-duh, duh, duhhhh." Oooo, this just doesn't sound promising . . .

SWC

Majestic Magnificent

2005-04-04T08:16:00.000-06:00

Thrillers, I realize that the last thing many of you want to hear about is Michael Jackson, but check this out from CNN.com:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/04/04/jackson.trial.ap/index.html

"On Monday, a vigil and pro-Jackson march was set to begin hours before Jackson's child molestation trial resumes. Dozens of fans planned to carry flags of the nations they represent -- including Japan, Germany, Belgium, Sweden, Italy and France. Jackson said that if he could, he would have been with them at Santa Maria's Radisson Hotel, where fans took over a ballroom for Sunday's gathering. It featured Jackson impersonators, singers and a friend of Jackson's who calls himself "Majestic Magnificent."

OK, isn't it sort of redundant to call yourself Majestic Magnificent? Do you think he's a performer of some kind or just a guy who used to be named "Carl" or "Stan"? Perhaps being a "friend of Jackson's" is his performance? Maybe he has a wooden puppet named Tito, a rhinestone-studded glove, and WAY too much free time . . .

You know it is rather sad how far MJ has fallen. Remember the early Michael? He was cool. He was like Stevie Wonder with dance moves. He was like the Marvin Gaye of the 80's. Now? He's just kind of scary . . . . but maybe not quite as scary as the people who still think he's the greatest.

(check out the photo of the protester beating an "effigy" of Tom Sneddon, the prosecutor. Are you serious? Is there not something more worthy of a protest?)

-- SWC

Quotes from Malcolm

2005-04-02T12:20:00.000-07:00

Lemmings,

So Malcolm picked out one of Reveren Horton Heat's album's to listen to this morning, the one with the burning heart on the CD and we had a long discussion about a burning heart and how it's a metaphor for love or pain or painful love . . . (most of which he completely ignored)

But later as we were driving home from Home Depot and the park he says,

"Daddy I have a burning heart 'cause I love everybody"

And I was, of course, overwhelmed with pride and joy and told him this; to which he responded,

"Daddy I have a big booger."

Gotta love him. -- SWC

Public Radio Rock Star

2005-04-02T10:08:00.000-07:00

Your schedule of interviews is amazing! We need to get Phoenix tuned in. Has your editor contacted anyone at the Arizona Republic or KJZZ public radio? Just give me the signal and I am all over it!

Hogorrific! Funny story. Our trip to Reno was filled with those unforgettable moments... "Dick Chaney in our hotel stories..not very respectful of the Veep I would say", food poisinging stories and funny responses from the sub shop that was the cause.."we wear gloves upon request...excuse me?", and, "our vegetarian option this evening is talapia". Isn't that fish? Oh well, in Reno you are looking for laughs anywhere becaue 90% of the population is glued to an undersized stool directly attached to a slot machine.

Speaking of funny food stories, did you all read the one about Wendy's chili? If not...just ask and I will share :)!

Well, not much of this has to do with Guinness...but there may be someone who has the longest running time pulling the lever of a slot machine. Check it out!

Recipe: The Hubcap Gasket

2005-04-02T07:40:00.000-07:00

Food Lovers, Here's a little something we used to make during our college days, typically late at night, after much indulgence. It's called The Hubcap Gasket. We got the recipe from an issue of Thrasher magazine.

Ingredients:
1 egg
1 slice of Kraft American cheese
2 slices of white bread
1 tablespoon of peanut butter
1 cup of strawberry jam

Instructions:
- Break eggs in a medium mixing bowl, stir well, breaking yokes.
- Spread peanut butter on both slices of bread.
- Place slice of cheese between slices of peanut-buttered bread.
- Dip cheese and peanut butter sandwich in egg.
- Fry sandwich in medium frying pan, browning on both sides, until cheese melts.
- Serve slathered with strawberry jam.

Enjoy. -- SWC

Hogzilla was Real!!

2005-04-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

Voyeurs, Yes, it is true. I know we've all been waiting to find out . . . If you don't know about Hogzilla, shame on you. You should. Hogzilla is a mythical feral pig rumored to be as big as a buffalo, who roams forests of the southeast. Sightings were reported for years. Photos snapped. Hoaxes alleged. No pig could get THAT big . . . oh yeah?

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/03/22/hogzilla.ap/

Get this. The esteemed National Geographic Society not only sent scientists to investigate the putrified carcass of the giant hog, but they FILMED it. I cant decide if the owner of the land is a dumb country rube or a public relations genius with a flare for performance art. What do you think?

SWC

Profanity Disclaimer

2005-04-01T21:35:00.000-07:00

Rangers, My Dad didn't appreciate the post with the excessive cursing and feels that I may be damaging my image and sterling reputation. What do you think? OK, so occasionally when I get really excited or upset or otherwise emotional (or bored), I curse. I can't help it. I'm sorry. So if you're 12 or my dad or a friend of my dad's who somehow forgot who my dad is, then you might want to avoid this blog . . . . If you're an editor or reviewer at the NY Times who seriously has nothing better to do than read my pathetic blog, then let me assure that, for the most part, I am able to resist the urge to say fuck . . . oh, shit I did it again. What I mean is that if you interview me, I promise not to excoriate your erudite ears with a indiscriminate spew of base and degrading language. I be smarter than that. -- SWC

p.s. My book has a plethora of curse words and lots of dark and weird stuff that's probably not suitable for the chillins' . . . But there's some other stuff they'll probably think is pretty damn funny. Read with caution.

Media Monster

2005-03-30T10:28:00.000-07:00

Fishes, Here's a list of media appearances they have me booked for so far. I feel like a freakin' rock star. I want a roadie named "Squirrel" who wears nylong jogging shorts and a mesh muscle-shirt . . . stay tuned for more. -- SWC

Print
**2/28 Publishers Weekly/Review
3/15 Library Journal/Review
Mar/Apr Ruminator Magazine/Review
June Writers Digest/Feature
Spring Speakeasy/Review
date tk Washington Post/Review in a Memoir Roundup
**date tk Entertainment Weekly/Review Assigned

Denver
**date TK Rocky Mountain News/Review
4/5 Tattered Cover (Cherry Creek)/Speaking & Signing @ 7:30 p.m.

Lawrence, KS
4/8 Lawrence Journal World/Feature Interview
4/11 KLWN-AM/KLZR-FM/ "Morning News" Live
4/11 KANU-FM (NPR)/ "All Things Considered" Live
4/11 The Raven/Speaking & Signing @ 7:00 p.m.

Kansas City
**4/10 Kansas City Star/Review to run with event listings
**4/12 WDAF-TV/ "FOX 4 NEWS at Noon" Live
4/12 KCUR-FM/ "Walt Bodine Show" Live
4/12 Rainy Day Books/Speaking & Signing @ 7:00 p.m.

Phoenix
4/18 Changing Hands/Speaking & Signing @ 7:00 p.m.

San Francisco
**4/19 KGO-FM/ "Pete Wilson Show" Live
**4/20 KVON-FM/ "Morning Edition" Live (Napa)
4/20 Books Inc. (Market St.)/Speaking & Signing @ 7:30 p.m.

Seattle
**4/21 Northwest Cable News/ "Morning News" Live
**4/21 KMPS-FM/ "Northwest Perspective" Taped
4/21 Third Place Books/Speaking & Signing @ 7:00 p.m.

Portland
** date TK Oregon Public Radio/ Reading and Review
4/22 Wordstock/Evening Gala
4/23 Wordstock/Speaking event

Ruminator Review

2005-03-30T09:48:00.000-07:00

Mates, The Ruminator has published a review of TGBOM in their recent issue. Check it out.

http://www.ruminator.com/content/040515.html

All in all, a very cool magazine that you should probably order for several of your friends and family. Also see the "annotated" story from Steve Almond. What a cool idea!

People Possibilities

2005-03-25T09:55:00.000-07:00

OK, so I had to submit a photograph to People mag. for a possible review. No guarantees but maybe it will run . . . thanks to my good friend, Stephanie, I was able to give them one where I looked somewhat decent . . .talk about new challenges with a book out--taking "author photos" and trying to look like yourself or some more handsome, more intelligent and "writerly" version of yourself.

Speaking of new challenges . . . and new opportunities . . . I'm starting to hear from people I haven't talked to in years, a few calls and emails here and there, and so far it's fun. That's not to say I'm not gripped with fear at the thought of certain people coming out of the woodwork (you know who you are!) . . . but it's genuinely amazing how a book can be an ambassador for long-silent nation-people.

SWC

Nod in the NY Times

2005-03-25T09:17:00.000-07:00

Minions, Check it out (below). A nod in the NY Times for TGBOM under the title "We All Have a Life. Must We All Write About It?" Ok, so Grimes isn't exactly jazzed about the proliferation of memoirs but he seems to save most of his ire for those that easily fit into his taxonomy. I'm happy to say, TGBOM doesn't quite fit and thus gets this, "I'm looking forward to TGBOM . . . " from Grimes. Truth is, he has some good points. But in the end the answer to the question he poses in the title seems to be, without a doubt, "yes." I'm just happy to be on his radar. I hope he likes the book.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/03/25/books/25memo.html

SWC

2 Books You Should Read

2005-03-24T16:26:00.000-07:00

(Arghhh! Fucking shit! I just spend 1/2 hour typing up some really smart-sounding reviews/blurbs on books, 4 of them, and then I somehow lost it all by trying to check spelling. Fuck! Shit! Ok, here goes again . . . some of it . . .)

1. Goat, by Brad Land. A relentless lyrical bash to the brain pan. Messes with your ideas about brotherhood, masculinity, and memoir. Notable for its voice and vision. Bizarre and unforgettable. Read the whole thing in one sitting.

2. Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, by Nick Flynn. A quietly seductive meditation on family, fathers, grief, and self-abuse. Notable for its voice and, especially, its episodic structure. Feels like a book of poems almost. (maybe 'cause he's a poet, asshole!). Thought not same dramatic punch as some memoirs, sill surprisingly captivating. Moves in subtle and powerful ways.

forget spellcheck . . . READ these books, OK? . . . they're really good.

SWC

Steve is a teacher?

2005-03-24T15:58:00.000-07:00

Dancers, Let me shake the cat out of the bag . . . I have been offered and tentatively accepted a teaching position at Roger Williams University in Bristol, Rhode Island. Still waiting for the final word, but it's mostly a done deal . . . I'll be teaching a 4-4 load of mostly creative writing with a focus on creative nonfiction. My colleagues are awesome, very cool, laid back and bright. It's a big change, but the Churches are moving to the East Coast. We're thinking we'll probably rent a place in Providence, hopefully near Brown U. . . It's a bit frightening to think how it's going to shake things up a bit, but also exciting. We need new challenges, new opportunities.

(note: polemical rant to follow. look away if easily put off by biased and cynical diatribes)

And God are we happy to be moving to a Blue State, away from the increasingly depressing political and educational climate in Colorado. It's a wonder, really, that anyone gets a decent education in this state . . . Do you realize that we have one of the highest percentages of people with advanced college degrees AND one of the lowest high school graduation rates . . . We are the headquarters for Focus on the FAmily, one of the most insidious and evil-spreading entities in the US right now . . . I'm tired of living in the psuedo-west, where it's not "cool" to value education or even complex thought . . . Colorado is a whole state of sheep, just a few miles removed from Kansas, my home state of cows . . . Lots of herd mentality out here. Everyone wants easy answers. So many put up this facade of nicety that causes pervasive existential despair in people like me

Walt Bodine!

2005-03-24T15:53:00.000-07:00

Super Troopers,

I have been booked on the Walt Bodine radio show in Kansas City on April 12 and I can't tell you how excited I am . . . For those of you who don't know him, Walt is sort of like the working man's Andy Rooney. Same bizarre curmudgeony view of the world, without Rooney's unabashed elitism. We used to listen to Walt when I was painting houses in Lawrence and I loved the way he can totally unnerve guests by asking questions like, "Where did you get those pants?" or "Geez, you're kind of an ugly guy aren't you?" It seemed pretty clear that much of the time Walt hadn't read the book he was talking about, but it didn't really matter. You see, Walt is a curious fellow who is unafraid to talk about anything. Sometimes that's enough to keep you going for what seems like 100 years.

SWC

First Reading Wrap-Up

2005-03-23T10:03:00.000-07:00

Well, Rangers, the first reading of the TGBOM Magical Mystery Tour is over and done . . . and, OH, what a glorious time it was. So nice to see lots of friends, teachers, and fellow writers. My first book signing too . . . hard to come up with new witty comments every time. Met lots of new people too, people who bought stacks (literally) of books--which I appreciate so much. Still sort of surreal to be on the other side of the table, sitting in the poofy chair, beneath a stained-glass lamp . . .

Comic relief . . . My "Fonz" moment in the sun . . . the freakin' podium kept buzzing and humming, causing all sorts of weird feedback effects and I had to keep smacking it to make it quit, so my reading was occasionally punctuated by a violent tic . . . great for drama

SWC

No sign of EW review yet

2005-03-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

What's up? I've been to three stores here looking and called Annie (the super coll asst. to my uber cool editor) in NYC and no sign of it yet . . . maybe we had the date wrong. Arghh. They give you grades. Can you believe that? The arrogance of it. Cloaking themselves in the trappings of academic authority. I wonder if I'll be in the same issue as some Brad and Jen updates? OK, sorry. I'm really not looking this gift horse in the mouth. I HONESTLY appreciate anyone every paying attention to my book. That doesn't mean I'm not lining up my defensive responses if their reviewer hates the book . . . that's just me.

So . . . what is it, Steve?

2005-03-14T15:43:00.000-07:00

Right, sorry. OK, here's a vague answer to a vague question. Creative Nonfiction refers to any sub-genre of nonfiction writing that is informed by or obviously defined by creative elements of form and technique. For me, what separates creative nonfiction from other forms is the attention to storytelling and narrative. How's that?

What the hell is Creative Nonfiction anyway?

2005-03-14T15:28:00.000-07:00

This seems to be a general sentiment of many people. I get asked this question all the time. Something about the arrangement of words doesn't compute. I think a lot of people hear "creative" and automatically think "fiction," as if the two words are synonymous. Thus the phrase "creative nonfiction" really does sound oxymoronic to them . . . they don't see it as literature, or even as its own distinct genre of writing . . . How many times has someone asked me, "So what's your book about?" and I say, "Well, it's a memoir, so it's kind of about me," and then they ask, "So is that like a novel?" and I say, "Yes. That's exactly what it is. Only not at all."

Had a discussion last night with some poet friends and we all agreed that they seem to have an opposite sort of problem. Too many people think they know what poetry is (Hallmark cards and pop lyrics) and see themselves as "poets" simply because they put words on paper and wear a beret in public . . .

Upcoming Reading at CSU Bookstore

2005-03-14T15:25:00.000-07:00

I'll be reading in support of the book at 5:30 p.m. on March 22 at the Colorado State University Bookstore.

I'm still trying to figure out what I should read . . . . Any suggestions? I'm thinking I'll go for a general 1st-chapter-introduction thingy and skip right to the cursing and pornography . . .

EW Review coming on Friday!

2005-03-14T14:46:00.000-07:00

Howdy Rangers!

Pick up your copy of Entertainment Weekly this Friday to see a review of TGBOM (The Guinness Book of Me) . . .

The Guinness Book of Me is Here!

2005-03-13T11:59:00.000-07:00

That's right, folks. The book has hit the stores. Piles of them. It's a glorious thing. I still can't hardly believe it. I was afraid to touch the stack of books in the CSU store. Thought they might crumble to dust. Of course I'm completely biased but I think they look fabulous.

I was home for lunch the other day, just leaving the house, when a brown UPS van pulled up quick and stopped. I stood there in the brown grass, waiting, hoping. It seemed like minutes passed, probably only seconds, before the brown-shorted man emerged carrying a large carboard box that said in block letters, "Guinness Book of Me. 23.00 U.S. 1st. Printing." I just about shit . . .

So check your local stores. Order your copy today.

Oh, and stay tuned to this blog for more book related news, tour stories, etc.