PAULA WHYMAN

Are you secretly (or not-so-secretly) gluten-intolerant, lactose-intolerant, seafood-allergic, peanut-free or otherwise at risk anytime you sit down to a restaurant meal?

Check out my article in today's WASHINGTON POST Food section, CHECK PLEASE: WHEN THE MENU IS A MINEFIELD, about dining out with dietary restrictions and how successfully restaurants do (or do not) accommodate difficult folks like me.

WANNA CHAT? You can find me on FREE RANGE, the Washington Post food section's online discussion about everything foodie, today (3/31) from 1-2pm. I'll be joining Food section staff to answer questions related to the topic of my article.

You do need to log in to participate, or even lurk...so if you're not already signed up to read the Post online, register anytime; it's free. And how many worthwhile things can you say that about, these days?

From The Guardian newspaper:

The annual prize for the oddest book title has been won by the splendidly eccentric Crocheting Adventures with Hyperbolic Planes, by Dr Daina Taimina. Last year's winner was The 2009-2014 World Outlook for 60-milligram Containers of Fromage Frais.

The Diagram prize has been awarded annually by The Bookseller magazine since 1978. Horace Bent, the magazine's diarist, who administers it, said: "I think what won it for the book is that, very simply, the title is completely bonkers. On the one hand you have the typically feminine, gentle and woolly world of needlework and, on the other, the exciting but incredibly unwoolly world of hyperbolic geometry and negative curvature."

"One hopes that Dr Taimina's win prompts other enlightened crocheters, knitters and embroiderers to produce similar works, so I look forward to seeing books such as Cross-stitching String Theory and Felting Feats with Phenomenology in the near future."

Taimina will receive no prize aside from "the sales boost that will now inevitably occur", according to Bent.

The book is in fact a serious work by a mathematician at Cornell University in New York state. As David Henderson, Taimina's husband, has explained, a hyperbolic plane "is a simply connected Riemannian manifold with negative Gaussian curvature". Hyperbolic planes – surfaces with constant negative curvature – which are studied as a branch of non-Euclidian geometry, have traditionally been hard to visualise: Taimina's breakthrough was to use crochet to create such shapes. Dr Taimina's work has appeared in an exhibition titled Not The Knitting You Know.

The other shortlisted titles included Collectible Spoons of the Third Reich by James A Yannes.

I, for one, love that The Guardian has used the word "bonkers" in an article. Yes, it's a quote, but it balances out the more typical, understated, "splendidly eccentric" comment that comes earlier.

Dog That Attacked Police Cars Must Attend Classes

3/26/2010 8:31:00 AM
Associated Press/AP Online

CHATTANOOGA, Tenn. - A pit bull mix in Tennessee has been sentenced to obedience training after his dogged attack on a local police car.

Winston didn't bite anybody, but he mauled a Chattanooga police car in what might have been a confused attempt to take a bite out of crime. The persistent pooch managed to tear off a section of the front bumper and damage the tires.

The Chattanooga Times Free Press reports that a judge ruled that Winston had been a very bad dog. He was sentenced to obedience and canine good citizen classes, and he'll have to wear a tag that says he is "potentially dangerous."

Charges against his owner will be dismissed if the classes are completed successfully.

Owner Nancy Emerling said Winston got out of a fenced-in area at a welding shop March 14.


If Winston is in fact a dog (I'll get to that in a minute), then I think it's shameful that the authorities would send him for brainwashing--to become a "good citizen" merely for expressing his views on the dominant culture (man). Winston might have made a better decision about his form of protest (say, lifting a leg would have seemed a little less radical), but the fact is, he's a dog. His options for communicating displeasure are rather limited.

However, I must question Winston's authenticity as a dog. Isn't it possible that these actions were taken instead by a creature that seeks to subvert the primary source of power dogs retain in our culture--their power to manipulate us psychologically with their lovable cuteness? This type of plot would go a long way toward explaining a few questions that come to mind in connection with this incident.

For instance:
What kind of fence would you guess they have at a welding shop?

If the dog can chew a police car bumper, and a (welded?) fence, is it possible that this creature is actually a rodent? A food-of-the-gods type of giant rat? (Why, you see, it's coming to pass, just as was foretold...)

Photographs provided by the police support this theory. Below, Winston apparently attempts to regain his owner's affections following the incident:



Here is a shot of the officer attempting to repel Winston. Dog, or giant mutant rodent? You be the judge.



I'm afraid that as a result of pollution and global warming, we can expect to see more of this kind of thing in the future.

THE ATLANTIC WILL BRING SHORT STORIES BACK TO THE MAGAZINE, BEGINNING WITH THE MAY 2010 ISSUE.

I think that's worth shouting about, don't you?

In their announcement, they mention renewed interest in the short story form. But we never lost interest, did we...?

My excitement is tempered slightly by the news that the stories will come in the form of a supplement, bound into newsstand editions, or enclosed with subscriber editions. There's no certainty about how frequently we'll see these supplements, but at least fiction won't be relegated to a totally separate issue of the magazine. The editors report trying to find their way through the various new tech options and admit that the presentation of fiction in the magazine will be, well, a work-in-progress.

Either way, it's good news at a time when print outlets for stories are disappearing on a daily basis. Is Atlantic bucking the trend, or is a turnaround in sight?

Wait here, while I consult the Magic 8 Ball...

In my son's school, there's a period in the schedule that's called "DEAR" time. DEAR is the acronym for "Drop Everything and Read." Each child chooses a book and reads for an uninterrupted block of time (which is never long enough, according to the young readers in my house).

I try to build DEAR time into my own daily schedule, even if it comes after 11pm. And I agree, whenever it is, it's never enough. The Curious Stack on my night stand is becoming rather precarious. As is the one by my recliner. And the one in the kitchen. And the one by the exercise bike... You get the picture.

But I'm more determined than ever to get my reading time in, because this is such an exciting season for new fiction. If you have some DEAR time of your own, whether it's at 11pm or during your Spring Break vacation, here are four great new novels that will make you want to drop everything and find a comfortable chair. These books are dramatically different from each other, yet they have two important things in common: All have garnered critical praise from many quarters, and all four talented authors hail from right here in the Washington, DC, area.


THE POSTMISTRESS by Sarah Blake, a Politics & Prose Bookstore bestseller. Boston Globe calls it a "book to get lost in." Praised by novelist Kathryn Stockett.

Iris James is the postmistress of Franklin, Massachusetts a small town at the end of Cape Cod. She firmly believes her job is to deliver and keep people's secrets, to pass along the news of love and sorrow that letters carry. Faithfully she stamps and sends the letters between people such as the newlyweds Emma and Will Fitch, who has gone to London to help out during the Blitz. But one day she slips a letter into her pocket, and leaves it there.

Meanwhile, seemingly fearless radio gal, Frankie Bard is reporting the Blitz from London, her dispatches crinkling across the Atlantic, imploring listeners to pay attention. Then in the last desperate days of the summer of 1941, she rides the trains out of Germany, reporting on what is happening to the refugees there.

Alternating between an America on the eve of entering into World War II, still safe and snug in its inability to grasp the danger at hand, an a Europe being torn apart by war, the two stories collide in a letter, bringing the war finally home to Franklin.

Buy this book at Indiebound! or Amazon.

THE OPPOSITE OF ME by Sarah Pekkanen, a Redbook Magazine March pick, praised by novelist Jennifer Weiner. Booklist calls it "funny and poignant."

Twenty-nine year old Lindsey Rose has, for as long as she can remember, lived in the shadow of her devastatingly beautiful fraternal twin sister, Alex. Determined to get noticed, Lindsey is finally on the cusp of being named Creative Vice President of an elite New York advertising agency, after years of 80 plus-hour weeks, migraines, and profound loneliness. But during the course of one devastating night, Lindsey’s carefully-constructed life implodes.

Humiliated and desperate, she flees the glitter of Manhattan and retreats to the time warp of her parents’ Maryland home. As her sister plans her lavish wedding to her prince charming, Lindsey struggles to maintain her identity as the smart, responsible twin, while she furtively tries to put her career back together. But things get more complicated when a long-held family secret is unleashed that forces both sisters to reconsider who they are and who they are meant to be.

Buy this book at Indiebound! or Amazon.

VINTAGE VERONICA by Erica Perl, for young adult readers (and the young-at-heart!). Booklist calls Perl "masterful" and the story "earthy and real."

Veronica Walsh is 15, fashion-minded, fat, and friendless. Her summer job in the Consignment Corner section (Employees Only!) of a vintage clothing store is a dream come true. There Veronica can spend her days separating the one-of-a-kind gem garments from the Dollar-a-Pound duds, without having to deal with people. But when two outrageous yet charismatic salesgirls befriend her and urge her to spy on and follow the mysterious and awkward stock boy Veronica has nicknamed the Nail, Veronica’s summer takes a turn for the weird. Suddenly, what began as a prank turns into something else entirely. Which means Veronica may have to come out of hiding and follow something even riskier for the first time: her heart.

Buy this book at Indiebound! or Amazon.

MAJOR PETTIGREW'S LAST STAND by Helen Simonson, a Politics & Prose bookstore bestseller and Indiebound March Pick-of-the-Month. The Washington Post praises the book's "crisp wit and gentle insight."

When Major Pettigrew, a retired British army major in a small English village, embarks on an unexpected friendship with the widowed Mrs. Ali, who runs the local shop, trouble erupts to disturb the bucolic serenity of the village and of the Major’s carefully regimented life.

As the Major and Mrs. Ali discover just how much they have in common, including an educated background and a shared love of books, they must struggle to understand what it means to belong and how far the obligations of family and tradition can be set aside for personal freedom. Meanwhile, the village itself, lost in its petty prejudices and traditions, may not see its own destruction coming.

Buy this book at Indiebound! or Amazon.

Now, no more excuses: Flop down on that beanbag chair, Drop Everything, and Read! (And, by the way, while you're down there on the bean bag chair, could you please pick up those hard bits of popcorn that are ground into the carpet from last time? Thanks...)

Lately, I've been asking myself, what good is it having a blog if you don't use it to shamelessly promote the work of your friends and family members?

I'm lucky in that my friends and relatives who do creative work are very talented and their work is of such high quality that I would read (or look at or listen to) it, even if I didn't know them personally.

Sure, fix me with that skeptic's smirk, but I don't think I've steered anyone wrong yet.

So, when I announce this new volume, I'm not telling you about it only because it was written by a family member. I'm telling you about it because I know it's a good book. It's already garnered praise here and across the pond, as we say. You don't have to take my word for it.

March 12 is the official U.S. launch date for The Pen and the People: English Letter Writers 1660-1800... by Susan E. Whyman. Yes, there's a similarity in last names. You might say the last names are identical. That's because Dr. Whyman is my mother-in-law. And I'm not doing this for brownie points, not at all! She really doesn't need my help.

According to a History Today review by James Daybell, The Pen and the People is "[an] impressive new book...breaks significant new ground [by] arguing for the 18th century as the period that witnessed the emergence of a popular culture of letter-writing. [It] will undoubtedly have considerable impact on the field while the fascinating case studies will appeal to the more general reader."

The author spent more than 10 years poring over original documents, unearthing new treasure troves of letters that other historians were convinced did not even exist. As a result, The Pen and the People explores original, cutting edge ideas on the history of writing, reading and the novel. There are actual discussions, found in these previously unknown letters, of marriage, poverty, poetry, and the emotional lives of servants.



The book interests me as an illumination of a newly uncovered piece of history, but also because letter-writing is a disappearing art form. Please don't suggest emails are the new letters. Emails are not letters. They're built for speed and brevity, full of abbreviations, typos, and ill-thought-out expressions. They're meant to be disposable, more often than not, and they only hang around when they're meant to embarrass CEOs and government officials.

When something is handwritten, the words seem much more carefully chosen. The labor of writing by hand makes the letter a project in itself. How many of you had a pen-pal when you were a kid? Do you remember the eager anticipation, waiting to get a letter back? No more; everything happens instantly. There is no time spent in the pleasurable agony of waiting for some special communique. What about love letters? You know you saved them. Somehow, a flip email punctuated with emoticons just ain't the same.

Think how the sense of urgency of so many of our communications would be redefined if we had to write them by hand and then wait for a response for more than the minutes it takes to get a return email? Believe me, I wouldn't want to return to those days completely, but on the other hand, I can't remember the last time someone wrote me an actual letter on actual paper. I'm not a luddite (here I am, blogging---), but I miss that.

In Susan Whyman's book, you can see some of what we've lost. Ordinary people began to speak their minds, and, 300-plus years later, their handwritten words remain. What's the message there?

The Pen and the People: English Letter Writers 1660-1800 by Susan E. Whyman is the author's third book. It can be ordered from Amazon or directly from Oxford University Press.

Kermit Moyer, author of The Chester Chronicles, which I discussed here, has interesting things to say about the intersection between fiction and autobiography. After I heard his quote in a Writerscast interview, which I mentioned here, I knew he had only scratched the surface of his thoughts on the matter. Here, then, more on the subject from Kermit Moyer (and enough said by me).

I believe that the best way to tell the truth about yourself and your experience is to lie—that is, to write fiction rather than a memoir. Having just published an autobiographical novel called The Chester Chronicles, I can tell you that, first of all, it’s simply easier to tell uncomfortable truths about yourself when you seem to be talking about someone else. As the poet Richard Hugo has said,

The poem is always in your home town, but you have a better chance of finding it in another. . . . Though you’ve never seen it before, it must be a town you’ve lived in all your life. . . . [Here] it is easy to turn the gas station attendant into a drunk. Back home it would have been difficult because he had a drinking problem. (The Triggering Town)

But there’s another, even more crucial way that fiction is necessary if we’re going to tell the truth about our lives. If my recounting of my experience is to be as detailed and as richly textured as my experience has been, I have no choice but to use my imagination as much as, or more than, my memory. Because it’s simply impossible to do justice to life’s intricate and filigreed surfaces, its detailed particularities and varied textures, without resorting to imaginative invention.

And who can do without dialogue? But if dialogue occurs in a memoir, it tends to be suspect, to partake of the imagined rather than the remembered, since we can’t usually recall whole past conversations verbatim. So the inclusion of dialogue tends to compromise the memoirist’s primary obligation, which is to be true to the actual facts of the author’s life. The fiction writer’s primary obligation, on the other hand, is to be true to feeling rather than to facts. As E. L. Doctorow says:

Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader—not the fact that it’s raining, but the feel of being rained on.

Finally, I think the special power of fiction has something to do not only with the way it can render a felt sense of life in all its intricacy but also the way it can render life’s moment-by-moment spontaneity and its constant openness to surprise. I may start with the feeling of a remembered situation, but to be true to my experience, I have to let things develop on the page as they will, just as they do in life. Sometimes they take a course I’m familiar with; sometimes—in fact, more often than not—they don’t. Unlike the memoirist, I am free to allow my narrative’s course to be open to the living moment and to unfold as organically as life itself does rather than being predetermined by the facts of my life.

Which is also why I opted to use the present tense for The Chester Chronicles, even though the point of view is retrospective: the present tense indicates that the recounted experience is happening again right now in the memory and imagination of the narrator, and of the reader. And if the reader is living through it imaginatively along with the narrator, the effect is to make readers feel like the story has happened to them too, that it is actually part of their own experience. And when that happens . . . well, that's it, isn't it? That's what we're aiming for.

Kermit Moyer grew up an Army brat in the 1950s. He got his BA, his MA, and his PhD in English from Northwestern University and in 1970 joined the faculty of American University in Washington, DC, where he taught literature and creative writing for 37 years. His short fiction has appeared in The Georgia Review, The Southern Review, The Sewanee Review, and The Hudson Review, and he is the author of Tumbling, a collection of stories published by the University of Illinois Press. He lives with his wife Amy and their dog Zora on Cape Cod.

This morning, I awoke to an NPR broadcast about the Supreme Court case pitting a Chicago gun owner against the city of Chicago [McDonald v. Chicago]. Opening arguments will be heard today. At stake is the ability of states to regulate gun ownership independently. This case came about because the Court struck down the DC gun law prohibiting handgun ownership. I was pretty annoyed about that Court decision, and I commented at the time on what I thought was then-candidate Barack Obama's wimpy response.

I'm not interested in making pro/con arguments in this space. As a writer, what interests me here is the preponderance of hyperbole on both sides. I heard more logical, thoughtful arguments when I participated in a debate about nuclear power in Ms. Jaworski's English class back in 10th grade.

Clearly, the best logic does not make the best sound bite.

Witness:

Representing Chicago, lawyer Jim Feldman: "If there were a free-floating right of self-defense, then you would have the right to a machine gun, or a bazooka, or who knows what else."

Paul Clement, arguing on behalf of the National Rifle Association: No reasonable person is going to think the 2nd amendment entitles them to a bazooka. But, "A machine gun is a more difficult question."

My kids: Forget the Wii, we want a bazooka! We want a bazooka NOW!

Me: Now, kids, you know that a machine gun is the best we can do.

Alan Gura, the lawyer for Otis McDonald, who's brought the case: The right to keep guns in the home for protecting yourself is like being allowed to keep contraceptives to protect yourself.

Me: Hey, in a pinch, this diaphragm makes a handy slingshot!

Gura again: We have freedom to choose our religion in this country; we should also have freedom to choose our weapons.

Me: I pick Buddhism and nunchucks.

Otis McDonald, when told he can legally have a shotgun in his home, but not a handgun: "Why should I have to be inconvenienced because of laws that are here to protect me?"

Me: Yeah! The government needs to stop protecting us, dammit! This is America--Pioneer spirit! Renew my driver's license? Why should I? I didn't forget how to drive. And wearing a seatbelt is so inconvenient. If I don't want to be protected in a crash, it's no one's business but my own. And while we're at it, getting my kid to school every day, that's really a pain. And you know what, this whole pay-your-taxes in order to get state services thing? That's gotta go.

Chicago Mayor Richard Daley: "So why is it you can't even go see a congressman with a gun? Why can't you carry a gun into a federal building?"

Me: Thank you for clearing that up. I was wondering why I kept getting wanded last time I was in a government building. I told them I left the bazooka in the garage, but, strangely, that only made them more intent.

Me: I knew I should've gone for the brass knuckles.

Obviously, the players in this case did not have Ms. Jaworski for 10th grade English, because they would all FAIL. Unlike my clever opponents in the debate who went on to CalTech and MIT and illustrious careers in science, and me, who went on to...to...