Texas Pages

My copy-editing cohorts Tatia and Laura and I had a discussion tonight about whether Prince Caspian is, as Nancy Churnin writes in her review of the film adaptation, actually the second book in C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia. Some research revealed the answer: It is and it isn't.

The Chronicles were first published in this order:
1) The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, 2) Prince Caspian, 3) The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 4) The Silver Chair, 5) The Horse and His Boy, 6) The Magician's Nephew and 7) The Last Battle.

But if you go to the bookstore or Amazon and buy a boxed set, you'll find they've been rearranged, and are now published in chronological order according to the timeline set forth in the books. That order is:
1) The Magician's Nephew, 2) The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, 3) The Horse and His Boy, 4) Prince Caspian, 5) The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 6) The Silver Chair and 7) The Last Battle.

So which is right? Purists insist on published order -- that if you read The Magician's Nephew first, you'll find out all sorts of things you're just not supposed to know yet. Others say that if you're looking for the biblical themes and allusions in the books, those become much clearer in a chronological reading. Lewis himself, in a letter published in 1957, said either one was fine with him, although he expresssed just a smidgen of a preference for published order.

What do you think? Discuss.

For all you would-be writers out there, considering knocking off work this morning and heading out into a lovely spring day in Texas, here is some advice from Michael Chabon, as quoted in the afterword of the paperback version of The Yiddish Policemen's Union:

"Chabon's success traces to three requirements: talent, luck and discipline. 'Discipline," he says, "is the one element of those three things that you can control, and so that is the one that you have to focus on controlling, and you just have to hope and trust in the other two.'"

Alan Peppard's column today closes with mention of his pending memoir, Books. Alan notes:

"Some forget that more than two decades ago, Larry's Booked Up stores had an outpost in Dallas run by his friend Bill Gilliland."

That was in my pre-Texas era. Anybody recall this location?

Interesting observation reported on Galleycat -- tipsters say that the top 50 young adult science fiction/fantasy bestsellers recently outsold the top 100 adult sci-fi/fantasty bestsellers by two to one.

Blogger/author John Scalzi argues:

"That serious adult science fiction/fantasy readers don't seem to know any of this is a) a feature of the opaque nature of book sales, in which no one publicly talks about actual units sold and b) a feature of the apparent short-sightedness of adult sf/f readers, who are missing a genuine literary revolution in their genre because the YA section is a blank spot on the map to them, if not to everyone else."

This lovely quote was tucked inside the Vintage/Anchor Books fall catalog.

"To carry a book in your pocket or in your bag, particularly in times of sadness, is to be in possession of another world, a world that can bring you happiness." -- From Other Colors, by Orhan Pamuk

Amen, brother.

So, I was asked to be a Reading Ambassador for the fifth graders at Barksdale Elementary in Plano and I brought along my copy of Lois Lowry's latest, The Willoughbys. Now most of the kids were well aware of the two-time Newbery Medal winner through the books of hers that are most frequently assigned: Number the Stars, a story about a Danish family that helps Jews escape during the Holocaust, and The Giver, a futuristic look at a highly programmed society in which memories, music, colors and strong emotions are forbidden (the book is now getting a terrific stage production at the Dallas Children's Theater through Sunday). But with these two books being so serious, they were surprised to be laughing along with me at The Willoughbys, a parody of all those good little orphan kid stories. The bell rang with the kids clamoring for more after I got through the chapter where the not so nice Willoughby kids abandon a baby named Ruth (rendering them 'ruthless'). So what could I do but donate my copy to their school library? I'm always amazed by Lois Lowry's versatility. After three decades of writing for young adults, she still manages to surprise and delight.

I just spent five days in Denver for the American Copy Editors Society conference (ACES: The few, the proud, the defiantly picky!), and although the conference left little time for sightseeing, I did manage to get to the Tattered Cover's historic downtown store twice.

I was going to get all evangelical about Dallas' need for something similar, but I see that while I was gone, we had the announcement about Legacy Books coming to the Shops at Legacy in Plano. Well, I'm really, really happy for Plano, and I hope Legacy does indeed follow the inspiration of Tattered Cover and other legendary indies. But Dallas -- c'mon, Dallas, are we gonna let PLANO have a better bookstore? Geez.

So allow me a brief moment of evangelicism: TC is pretty much everything a great bookstore should be -- filled with creaky wooden floors and shelves, with sections that are beautifully organized but in a "thinking outside the box" way that leads you to selections you never knew you desperately needed until ... there they were. The last thing I need in my house is more books, but somehow two TC shopping bags found their way home with me. On my first trip, midday on a Wednesday, the store was full of contented customers being helped by fabulously eccentric, incredibly book-smart employees. I've been in a local big-chain bookstore at that same time of day when I was the only custumer in sight.

My favorite part of TC is the utter care taken in terms of helpfulness. All over the store, little handwritten signs answer the questions to apparently frequently-asked-questions. You might wonder, while perusing the journal section, "Where are the purse-sized address books?" A teensy sign points the way: "The itty-bitty address books are over on the checkout counter, near the bookmarks." Ahhh. Customer Service. It still exists; who knew?

Judy Alter's column in today's GuideLive takes a look at books about notable Dallas women.

Sadly, many of them are out of print.

Did we miss any? Were your favorites on the list?

On the Over the Top blog, staff writer Michael Granberry, on assignment to explore the blockbuster King Tut exhibit that's headed to Dallas, has some observations on reading habits in London.

(By happenstance, I just came across regular books page contributor John Freeman's own recent blog post that also discusses his experiences reading in London (and elsewhere). )

Those crazy college kids. Just when I think we can universally agree that the sky is falling and book culture is doomed, along comes a Daily Texan column that pooh-poohs the rush to digital reading:

"There's a certain magical aura that surrounds the book, even if that 10-pound American literature compilation is not your best friend right now. Having a book with real paper and ink between your fingers, and knowing that long ago someone wrote the words that you can physically touch creates a connection to the past. "

Writer Amanda Patterson, described as a "French senior," also celebrates some of Austin's favorite bookstores.

And you thought all they did in college these days was steal mp3s.

(Spotted on Shelf Awareness.)

Recently, Richardson High graduate Anne Rice, who just published "Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana,'" told Edward Nawotka that if she wrote another vampire book, it would be under special circumstances.

``I may yet revisit Lestat,'' she said. ``But if I do write another book about him it will be a Christian book. Lestat will consecrate his life to the Lord.''

That comment makes more sense to me today as she discusses her own faith in-depth in this column.

She writes:

"A long life of historical study and biblical research led me to my belief, and when faith returned to me, the return was total. It transformed my existence completely; it changed the direction of the journey I was traveling through the world. Within a few years of my return to Christ, I dedicated my work to Him, vowing to write for Him and Him alone."

For those of you whose publishing dreams may have been dented, if not totally dashed, by the recent spate of memoirist "outings" -- the girl who supposedly lived with wolves during World War II, the girl who supposedly lived with gang members in South Central LA -- Christopher Beam over at Slate.com has come up with a wonderfully snarky "Fake Memoirist's Survival Guide: How to Embellish Your Life Story Without Getting Caught."

For instance, he suggests: "Specificity is your enemy. Write with passionate vagueness. Avoid precise dates; don't get more exact than the year if you can help it. Better yet, the decade. ... When in doubt, go with 'awhile.' "

Here's the entire piece.

Better late than never dept.:

In an appreciation about Gary Gygax that I just filed, I mention his power to foster friendships.

So let me be wildly nonjournalistic and cite my own friend, Don Wood, a blogger/actor/carpenter who made some comments that actually anchor Mr. Gygax appropriately on the books blog.

Don writes:

"I think the secret to the success of [the game] is that it wasn't new at all. That tiny unconscious moment of silence shared by those around the table was the same exact moment shared by those around fires in caves and savannas tens of thousands of years ago. It is The Beginning of the Story. The genius of D&D was the leap from reading or even telling the story to playing the story. It created a framework for the spontaneous, simultaneous creation of a work of fiction by a group of people."

We welcome your own comments below.

One year ago today, in a quiet, dusty corner of the Internet that smelled vaguely of binder's glue and decaying newsprint, a blog was born.

Well, if statistics are to be believed, about 175,000 blogs were born. But only one was Texas Pages.

I hope we've succeeded throwing light on parts of the local books scene that otherwise would remain in quiet, dusty corners, online or otherwise. When we've failed in that, I hope we've at least been amusing.

And as always, I encourage you ... no, I dare you ... to make suggestions on how we can do things better. (You'll notice that soon after one reader suggested we post a link to recent reviews, the connection appeared, as if by magic, over there on the right side of the screen.)

Meanwhile, I would like to personally thank everyone -- Mom, my wife -- who has made reading the blog a part of your regular routine. (OK, Mom has not figured out how to bookmark the page, and my wife is too busy reading books to bother with the blog. But the counselor had some nice tips for us, and we're doing fine now.)

Check back later today; maybe I will try to offer up some fabulous prizes to celebrate. Meanwhile, here's a literary excerpt that seems appropriate.

Looks like that software update took. So let me post an appropriate ceremonial quote, and invite everyone to tell me what you think about the changes. Post a comment (if you can) or e-mail me at mmerschel@dallasnews.com.

"It will be best to start right and not let the record get confused, for some instinct tells me that these details are going to be important to the historian some day. For I feel like an experiment, I feel exactly like an experiment; it would be impossible for a person to feel more like an experiment than I do, and so I am coming to feel convinced that that is what I AM--an experiment; just an experiment, and nothing more."

-- Mark Twain, "Eve's Diary"

I know that a few of you readers are not in Texas -- as a true Texan might say, to your great misfortune. Some of you even hail from New York. Which we hear is somehow involved in the book business.

Which is why I post this story from your hometown paper, The New York Times. It describes the difficulties the candidates face in campaigning across Texas, which is, you might have heard, big.

This will not be news to local readers. But perhaps an outsider's perspective will benefit everyone here. You see, I've crossed paths with more than one book publicist who, when booking author tours, has decided to bypass Dallas on the grounds that they are already sending an author to Austin. Which is sort of like bypassing New York because you're already visiting Boston.

(Heck, I know people in Dallas who think Plano might as well be in Canada. But that's another matter entirely.)

The point is -- we like visitors. And we like Austin (for the most part.) We just don't consider authors who come to Austin to be our visitors.

Look, here's a map. Call me if you have questions.

I mentioned last week that Robert Pinsky was coming to town, and was hoping to link to some of his just-discontinued Poet's Choice columns in The Washington Post.

You can click on that link and find an entertaining poetry selection ("Country-Western Singer" by Alan Shapiro,) and also an example of an absolutely miserable reading experience.

Why?

Not long ago, we were discussing whether classic literature has any place in a modern school, or if it's time to emphasize "relevant" works.

The New York Times has countered with a piece that shows kids of diverse backgrounds responding to, of all things, "The Great Gatsby," by ... some dead white guy.

Judy Alter sends in this report on her experience:

"I bought a Kindle about a month ago, thinking ahead to a spring trip to Scotland and not wanting to travel without books yet not wanting to fill my suitcase with them. So far, I've only read one short book (How to Publish on Kindle) but I find it user-friendly. The screen is easy to read, pages easy to turn, whole thing is fairly easy for a non-tech person like me to navigate. I won't give up hard copies but I plan to use the Kindle for weekend visits to grandchildren, etc. Meantime, I'm hoarding the new Sue Grafton and Sara Paretsky titles on it, saving them for Scotland."

Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir, Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia, has won the hearts of Oprah and women nation-wide, but according to USA Today there may be a backlash.

Have you already read it? Tell us if, as Entertainment Weekly says, you "Love it [or] Loathe it?"

If not, buy the book and decide for yourself.

Lauren Romo

Portrait by Deborah Lopez

Your humble books editor is sipping a cup of French Market coffee with chicory, longing for a plate of properly made beignets, and wishing everyone a happy Fat Tuesday.

As you might guess, the topic of the day is a solicitation of favorite New Orleans literary experiences. For someone who spent some youthful years in a suburb of Nawlins (Abney Elementary, class of '77, or maybe '78 -- go Spartans, or was it Trojans?), I'm shamefully underread on the state's classics, aside from a long-ago reading of "All The King's Men." Which, as I recall, helped me understand those bullet holes they maintain as a sort of shrine to Huey Long at the capitol in Baton Rouge.

So I'll put in my plug for a bio that's not really about the city, but its most famous citizen. Laurence Bergreen's "Louis Armstrong: An Extravagant Life" contains some vivid descriptions of life in turn-of-the-century Storyville. You get the hard, ugly reality of the city's poverty and its most glorious hero all wrapped up in one package. (It should also lead you to invest heavily in his recordings, which, frankly, make life worth living.)

I would hardly present it as the last word on the subject, though. I'm sure you have your own thoughts. Throw me some ideas, mister. (Lacking ideas, you are free to suggest where to find a plate of beignets or a king cake.)

On a day that began with a debate about teaching the classics, I feel I should note this title, which just came over the transom: "HALO: Contact Harvest," by Joseph Staten. On 10 CDs.

So this is what America is creating now: Audio versions of space operas derived from video games.

No offense to Mr. Staten. It might be a great book. It's even "read by Jen Taylor, the voice of Cortana in the Halo video games, and actor Holter Graham," for what that's worth.

Still, I feel a need to go home and pull the covers over my head.

Here's a Deep Monday Morning Thought from the pages of Sunday's Points section: Would students be better off if we stopped teaching classic literature and focused instead on "relevant" works?

On the one hand, I respect the opinions of a teacher who has been in the trenches and knows what works. On the other hand, I'm not sure how much literature I would have deemed "relevant" at age 14 or 15 ... but I am quite glad that I had educators who pushed me through.

Greetings, and it's great to be back in Dallas after spending a few days off in ... Dallas.

Associated Press

But enough about me. Let's kick off the week in blogging with some idle gossip. Alert co-worker Jerry Bokamper points out that the movie adaptation of "The Road" is listed in "pre-production" on the Hollywood site imdb.com -- and the tentative cast is kind of eye-opening.

Viggo Mortensen is cast as "father," while Charlize Theron is "wife."

Now, one way of reading this is to assume that the producers have decided that the best way to make a marketable movie about an ash-covered, post-apocalyptic world of bleak emptiness is to fill the screen with really attractive people. I mean, if any couple could take the edge of a scene of baby-roasting cannibals, it would be those two. Right?

But that's what worries me. Does casting a superstar like Theron in the role signal that the wife is getting a major profile boost in the translation from book to movie?

Associated Press

Maybe they will throw in a few product placements for good measure. (FATHER [preparing to push shopping cart down a crumbling, danger-filled road that holds death at every turn and is a possible metaphor for life itself]: "They said life's better in a Jeep (r), son -- and it would be nice to have one on this road." )

Any thoughts? Or should we just wait for them to fill the thing?

A new book, A Practical Guide to Racism , written by Daily Show writer Sam Means under the name C.H. Dalton, an imaginary and clueless "racial scholar" who comes off as a turn-of-the-century academic bigot, actually makes fun of racist thinking. Practical Guide is just the latest piece of pop culture to flip racism on its ear by mocking the ignorance of its inflictors. Does this trend mark dangerous ground, sophisticated parody, or both?