From the North County Times Books Calendar for June 1:
— At The Book Works, Flower Hill Promenade, 2670 Via de la Valle, Suite A230, Del Mar, (858) 755-3735:
Shawn Tomson will sign and discuss “Surfer’s Code: 12 Simple Lessons for Riding Through Life” at 7 p.m. Thursday.
Jincy Willett will discuss and sign “The Writing Class”at 7 p.m. June 23.
— At The Yellow Brick Road, 7200 Parkway Drive, Suite 118, La Mesa, (619) 463-4900:
The June B. Jones Stupid Smelly Bus Tour will visit at 9 a.m. June 9.
r u supposed to be funny?
(answer: YES.)
<3<3
eeek – my writers’ group is almost here. Must be quick.
I worshipped your book, The Writing Class. I want our wee writers’ group to be able to critique like that – even the woman who leads a class on short story writing can’t critique like that. DARN IT!!!!!!
I live in Vancouver, B.C. Can you come out here and inspire me? We have a lovely beach here that will not be cold and bitter until at least Sept. 10.
I laughed and giggled and chortled and etc. at the writers’ class stuff. So true, so true.
hee.
Can I send you all of my stuff so you can fix it for free? Hmmm, thought not.
My writers’ group is edgy and I think we are one potato chip away from killing each other. But not like in your book.
I’m rambling.
Penny was the actor’s assistant. In the seven years of her employ, she had succeeded in making herself virtually indispensable. Having quickly graduated from making his travel arrangements, Penny now oversaw all of the day to day minutiae of the actor’s life, even going so far as to lay out his clothes in the morning. Penny thought of herself not as the actor’s right hand, but rather as his left nut. She was that important.
Penny hated the writer and complained bitterly about her presence. For her part, the writer seemed to bear no ill will toward Penny, whom she called Faye for no apparent reason.
The actor tried to explain to Penny that writers, because of spending so much time in their own heads, were socially retarded. They lurched through life like enormous clumsy children, making terrible first impressions and even worse second ones. Often mistaken as misanthropic or unfriendly, writers were at heart shy and gentle creatures. Normal people found writers disconcerting only because it was impossible to discern whether a writer’s reticence masked haughty superiority or immeasurable thickness. If only, keened the actor, one were able to penetrate that jungle of unknowability. Buried treasure would surely await. After all, writers were fiercely intelligent and extremely witty. Imagine, said the actor, cracking open a coconut and finding Oscar Wilde. All that was required was patience.
Penny didn’t have that kind of time.
What happened next?