Maybe if they had gone with Bordours?

Borders in the UK has gone into receivership.

At least, I think that's what they mean when they say it's gone into "administration."

That sounds right, right?

The news has no impact on the American chain since they're no longer connected.

Here's the funny thing though.

Usually when I hear news like this I launch into a tirade about the slow demise of bricks and mortar bookstores.

But here's the thing.

When we were in England this past summer? I don't think I remember seeing a Borders.

Which might have been part of their problem.

Evil dread.

Books are evil.

But not that way.

Not "books have ideas and ideas raise questions and questions lead to revolution so let's burn the ones that raise questions" kind of evil.

And all books aren't evil.

Just the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing books are evil. Books that are really just glorified, hard covered press releases are evil. Ghost written books that pull resources and attention away from books written by real, live authors who believe that writing is both an art and a craft are evil (1).

Wondering what I'm yammering on and on about?

I'm yammering on and on about Michael Wolff's column "Books Are Bad for You" over at Newser.

Actually, it was published a week ago...making it old Newser...but I still think it's worth a read.

1. That's right. I'm looking at you Palin. I'm also looking at all you people that made transformed a woman who could barely string a coherent sentence together into a bestselling author. Way to go.

Try to remember those days of Mo-vember

One of the things that gets furiously written about at Furiously Writing is gratitude.

Which is something that I find both thoughtful and impressive. It's very easy to say that you are grateful for the things in your life, another to devote time and attention to listing out those things for which you are thankful on a regular old Wednesday.

Lately I've found that I've returned to a project that I had been engaged in which was looking at people who were putting creativity to work in the real world. That's kind of a ham-handed way of saying it but as near as I'm going to get this fine Sunday evening.

In other words, I'm grateful for creative people.

Yesterday Leopold and I hit Eastern Market with Finkelstein and came across these guys.

Better than the really amazing t-shirts that the guys at Fuzzy Ink are creating? The mustache shaped business card that I figured out how to balance on my upper lip.

Less impressed by this trick is Leopold.

But trust me. It's hysterical.

In The Dog House (in a good way)

So if you happen to be in the Bay Area and you have the hankerin' (1) for a little music, a little lit and a little retro-barber vibe could I suggest kicking the holiday season off with a trip to Joe's Barbershop for the latest installment of the Barbershop Reading Series?

Here's the disclaimer.

I've never actually been to one of these readings.

I don't know Joe and have never been to his barbershop.

I won't be there on December 5th because I'll be, well, on the other side of the country.

I don't even know Michael McAllister (2) except through his Dogpoet blog which I happen to like quite a bit.

But this is another one of those times where I have to tip my hat to someone who came up with a great idea and made it happen...and happen well enough that the Examiner wrote about it.

How's this for good press: "For only $5 at the door, this event, which included endless amounts of wine, cupcakes, and beer, was a bargain so outrageous that when it ended we milled about and congratulated ourselves for having been witness to it."

And, to get down to the brass tacks of the business, here's the other thing that I love about what Michael has done.

When it gets right down to it, when I think about getting my writing out into the world I'm not the writer that dreams about holding a hardcover book in my hand (3). I always imagine the readings. That's when I think it all really comes together. Getting to actually see that connection being made with other people. People who maybe recognize themselves of their uncle or a world bigger than the world they know.

That's why I love writing.

Unfortunately, the reading circuit for unpublished fiction writers is...well...largely nonexistent.

Poets, yes. Storytellers, sure.

Even the performance artists have a room of their own.

But fiction writers, not so much.

So big ups for this idea and this event.

Check out the Dogpoet site to catch all the details and get their early.

'Cause how cool would it be to sit in one of the barber chairs (3)?

1. Yep, that's right. I just used the word "hankerin'."

2. To the point that I'm desperately trying to be sure I've not spelled his name wrong here on my blog.

3. Though I do think a lot about the cover design.

4. In case you were wondering, Jim Provenzano is going to be one of the readers...hence this post's book cover selection. He also wrote the novels Cyclizen and Monkey Suits...but I really dig this cover.

Radio Silence

Wow.

It's like I just decided to thumb my nose at Nablueblahbooberry.

For the record, I didn't. I've just been doing my very best to get a handle on everything that I'm juggling right now.

The remarkable thing?

How much more work it's possible to get done when one doesn't have to actually go to work.

And while we're on the subject of work, a big blog shot out to Leopold who - while I was downing several pots of tea and staring at my laptop screen - cleaned our house like nobody's business.

Not to brag on him or anything...but there was actual furniture polish involved. Cleaning products were emptied and needed to be restocked.

There's a tablecloth in the dining room.

There are plants in the living room. Plants that are meant to be there...not the odd bits of leaf and flora that have been being tracked in by Finkelstein during our 40 days of rain and muck.

It's pretty fantastic.

Another thing that is pretty fantastic that is coming up for you folks on the left coast is another edition of the Barbershop Reading Series.

In fact, both of these items are so fantastic that we're going to go a little nuts.

We're going to give them both their own posts and end this most recent period of radio silence.

Like a lot of people, Project Runway was why I got hooked on Bravo.

Despite Jonathan Adler's dismal "See you later, decorator" catchphrase I stuck around and watched Top Design.

Top Chef. Big fan.

I'll even watch the episodes I've already seen. Even when I remember who won. Even when I remember what everyone cooked ingredient for ingredient.

And I watched and continue to watch because I'm fascinated by creativity and watching people with a passion for creating new things, seeing the world in new ways.

More and more though, Bravo seems to be moving away from celebrating people who have devoted their lives to a particular craft.

So where's a person to get their fix?

Back in the day, when I started reading blogs to get through an afternoon at work, I stumbled on Bradford Shellhammer's blog. It was fun. It was fast. It was cosmo-fabulous.

It always made me think of Sex and the City.

Not in a lame, stereotype kind of way.

And, actually, not in a "the t.v. show" way. But like the book. A kind of catalog of urban cool.

It was an online daydream for someone sitting at their desk eating Subway, wondering how it was he went from art school to, well, sitting at a desk eating Subway.

I've been a faithful reader of the blog and, when I decided to set up shop here, I made sure to add it to my blog list.

Mr. Shellhammer just posted a video that he did with the folks from dwell (1) and it is, like the blog, pretty fabulous.

Not only did it restore some of my faith in the creative world, it put a new song on my iPod.

And for those of you still shopping for Christmas...I may actually be able to pull off that hat.

Is that my bellybutton?

I've heard about these devices that can be attached to cars that act like mini-breathalyzer. If you blow in the tube and your reading falls outside certain parameters, your car won't start.

I think that I need to install one of those rigs on my laptop.

That's not to say that I was drunk when I posted yesterday. Just really rundown and cranky and prone to singing, "Like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel..." as I found myself once more debating what to do when I grow up (1).

Instead of going to bed I unfortunately committed a bit of poorly written and awkwardly structured naval gazing.

Ech.

Today though, I had one of those moments (2) where I realized that the answers really are always right in front of your face. What was it that Dorothy tells Glinda when asked what it is she learned from her trip to OZ? Something about if you're ever looking for your heart's desire you might not need to go any further than your own backyard?

Before the irony is noted I'll say it myself.

This is another post about me.

Or, it is on the surface.

The backstory, or stories, that I can't tell because they aren't truly my stories - those are about other people. Those are the stories that have reminded me that the work each and every one of us does has the potential to change things. Those are the bits that make it clear that I do know what I want to do when I grow up...I just have to figure out the how.

Not really an earth shattering revelation...but pretty good for a Friday afternoon.

Posts about other people to come.

1. It's just a phrase...not the expression of a Peter Pan-type syndrome.

2. Actually I had three of those moments...one on video.