Giving the Finger gets a brief mention in today’s Seattle Times.
“Campbell, a Bering Sea fishing-vessel captain who is center stage during the popular “The Deadliest Catch,” TV program, recounts some of the issues not seen on television.”
Giving the Finger gets a brief mention in today’s Seattle Times.
“Campbell, a Bering Sea fishing-vessel captain who is center stage during the popular “The Deadliest Catch,” TV program, recounts some of the issues not seen on television.”
The most inspiring thing that happened to me at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books? Waiting in line for 90 minutes to get a book signed. Usually my attitude toward lines longer than 15 minutes is somewhere between “no thanks” and “I’d rather stab my eyes out with a fork,” but this was different. My daughter Annie borrowed the novel Divergent from one of her best friends at school and when she found out that the author, Veronica Roth, was going to be at the festival, she thought it would be cool if she returned it to her friend with the author’s signature. So after trudging all over USC’s campus on Saturday to support her dad’s events on Saturday, on Sunday we went to see YA superstar Veronica Roth in conversation with Leigh Bardugo, who was excellent. My author credentials meant we didn’t have to stand in line for the event, but there are no shortcuts in the signing line, which was 500 deep. (It would have been longer, but the signing was limited to 500 people, one book per person.) We were probably somewhere in the middle of the line. The breakdown was something like this: 75% pre-teen or teenage girls, 20% moms, 4.9% dads, and one boy. Some of the girls chatted with each other about the panel, others texted or talked on the phone, but most were reading books. Giant, 500+ page books. This is going to sound like hyperbole, but it was an awesome sight: hundreds of young people immersed in the world of a book, waiting to meet its author whom they’d just heard speak. As a writer, it was so encouraging to see the passion of these young readers. It didn’t matter that they weren’t “my” readers (although every writer I know who saw or heard about the line joked about being in the wrong genre). I was once just like them and hopefully these young readers will continue to look for stories that move them, book by book, series by series, from now until they are my age and have kids of their own. It was such a strong reminder that readers are passionate about the stories they love, and as a writer its up to me write with the same passion and fervor, to create a world readers want to escape to and share with their best friends. I’m thrilled that my daughter is such an enthusiastic reader and thoughtful friend, but yesterday she helped rekindle my passion for making things up.
The messages left in the secret drawer never fail to inspire. This one is from a sailor. (at Alcove Cafe & Bakery)
Graffiti from what’s left of The Masque in a storage facility on Cherokee in Hollywood.
In store core #off! (at Amoeba Music)
This week I had the pleasure of honoring a great Virginian: Dave Brockie, the outspoken frontman for GWAR who passed away late last month. Jeff Burk and Cameron Pierce organized a tribute at Stories Books & Café and on a cold and rainy night John Skipp, Mark Levinthal, Justin Maurer and myself read for a small gathering of friends and fans. RIP Oderus Ungurus. You will be missed.
Happy 100th birthday, Marguerite Duras.
Celebrating publication day for Giving the Finger with co-workers. Crab wontons the best I could do. (at Sherman Oaks Galleria)
I sat down with T.C. Porter at San Diego Writers, Ink to talk about the art and craft of memoir writing. We discuss interview stratgeies, book proposal development and the unspeakable horror of the literary life.
One of the strangest things that happened to me last year was a bout of vertigo that literally knocked me on my ass while I was in Walla Walla, Washington interviewing Scott Campbell, Jr. for our book, Giving the Finger. The whole story is in the new issue of Razorcake, which also features a rad interview with punk pop phenom Tony Molina, an oral history of East L.A. punk curated by Alice Bag, and a stunning essay by Cheryl Klein.