Higher Education Webinars
August 4, 2011 - 3:45pm
Today, contributor Okla Elliott interviews writer and poet Kelly Cherry. I'm traveling and will be back in about 10 days. My thanks to both Kelly and Okla. Enjoy! --Churm *** An Embarrassment of Riches by Okla Elliott
August 2, 2011 - 5:17pm
The secret of most writers I know is that if they’re writing (and working at whatever job permits them to write), they don’t have much time to read. During the school year, with a full (adjunct) teaching load, as well as independent-study students, university scholar projects, committee attendance, office hours, e-mail correspondence, professional blogging, manuscript preparation, job searches, and domestic life with children, I often can only look wistfully at books that gape off my shelves like loose dentures.
July 29, 2011 - 5:01pm
Rattlesnake Daddy: A Son’s Search for His Father, by Brent Spencer. The Backwaters Press (2011). $25.00 paper. *** Here I’d like to return briefly to Rattlesnake Daddy, a memoir I reviewed a few days ago.
July 25, 2011 - 3:00pm
The democratizing effect of contemporary publishing, education and especially technology has created an unprecedented age of personal narrative and commentary. Never in human history have individuals been exposed to so many other people’s visions of the world.
July 19, 2011 - 3:00pm
Rattlesnake Daddy: A Son’s Search for His Father, by Brent Spencer. The Backwaters Press (2011). $25.00 paper. ***
July 7, 2011 - 3:45pm
***Pacazo, a novel by Roy Kesey. Dzanc Books (2011). $15.40 hardcover, $8.79 Kindle. *** Today I have the pleasure of posting a review by one friend of a book by another friend. I know: A good day, right?
June 30, 2011 - 6:30am
And to finish off my journal month, a fitting quote copied out from Chekhov's book on Sakhalin: "They keep writing, they keep writing, they keep writing, Oh, Queen of Heaven!"
June 29, 2011 - 4:00am
Subtract 30 seconds from my 15 minutes of fame: In the Italian deli with family friends. An old woman walks up to where I stand filling a cup at the soda dispenser. She (suspicious): “Did you write a book about this town?” Me: “Yes, ma’am.” She (triumphant): “I knew you did. My grandson said you talked to his class at the high school but didn’t remember your name.” Me: “Yes, that was for the novel. Have you seen my nonfiction book?” She: “No.” She walks away, mission accomplished and no further interest.
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