As in gymnastics or morning visits to the bathroom, everyone has their
own routines for visiting the Internet 2.0. Before I can safely get to
"work", I scroll through a lengthy list of favorite blogs, news sites,
social networking...networks, trendy sneaker information providers,
and forums analyzing "The View" in an effort to get a more full and
informed view of the world. And perhaps because of that finely tuned,
cosmopolitan-esque view of said world, a lot of people should ask
me, "What, Kevin, are those sites that provide you with such piercing
insights and almost encyclopedic knowledge of other people's
relationship statuses via The Facebook?"

So--in an effort to answer that self-asked hypothetical question-- I
am dropping a new, potentially recurring entry into my nest of
recurring blog entries called, well, you can read the title. The point
is to take a look at some of the sites that I read, give you some
background on them, and then review them. Best case scenario, friends,
is that you discover a new site of potential interest, worst case
scenario, is that--somewhere down the line-- I attempt to submit
something to one of these sites and, after a quick Google search, all
of this comes back to bite me in the ass and I'm summarily blacklisted
from participating in the Internet. Hmmm. Maybe this isn't a good
idea.

Slate.com

Slate.com is an online news and culture magazine. According to its
Advertising page (brief teaching moment: a good way to get a quick
idea of how a magazine imagines their audience is to go to their
"advertise with us" page and look at how they define themselves to
advertisers and who they describe as their audience. It sounds kind of
obvious, but it seemed entirely clever to me at the time I sorted it
out), they attract 5 million unique visitors a month, although I don't
know anyone outside of the journalism or writing worlds that doesn't
just assume that Salon and Slate are--in the words of my roommate--
the same "online magazine thing".

Journalists, on the other hand,--or, at least the ones that I
associate with--assume that everyone is reading this particular online
magazine thing. In fact, 86% of all conversations I have at Boston Mag
start with, "Did you read __'s takedown of __ in Slate?" and then
trail off into some sort lengthy debate as to whether you agree or
disagree, usually followed by some sort of speculative, unconfirmed
anecdote about the personal/professional life of the person who wrote
it and then a call down to Ad Sales to see if there are any open-bar
launch parties that night. That, friends, in a nutshell, is how good
journalism is made.

Anyway, Slate caters, if not specifically to journalists, then at
least to people who spend a good deal of their time reading other
magazines and newspapers, and they do it by acting like a
meta-magazine; offering analysis, commentaries, and refutations of
things written in other papers or magazines or blogs. Other online
entities also do this (in fact, it's sort of an online specialty)
but--since most of the people who write for Slate are seasoned
journalists--you don't get that snarky "outsider attacking insider"
feel that you get at a site like Gawker.com, and you can feel
intelligent plagiarizing their opinions in an effort to sound more
informed while making small talk on the subway.

My one issue with Slate, which is most people's issue, is they seem to
have a standard template for all of their pieces: think of some sort
of contrary POV about a major issue/commonly prescribed notion,
counter said argument using cleverly worded rhetorics, add many, many
hyperlinks. When they pull it off, (which, admittedly, is most of the
time) it comes off sounding fresh, new, and almost genius, but when
they don't, it just sort of sounds like they all sat around
brainstorming what would happen if every day was some sort of
highbrow, literary version of Opposite Day.

Either way, Slate does what any good culture/news mag should do; it
infuriates, informs, and entertains, all while sparking debate. Plus,
their movie critic Dana Stevens and I share similar tastes in films,
which makes me feel smart.

Anyway, as soon as I can sort it out, I'll give you a tasting plate of
some classic, must-read Slate pieces. But, friends, since this is more
of a conversation than anything else, I'm curious to get your own
insights and opinions on sites that you read everyday, especially ones
that are well-written, informative, and hilarious. So check up on
those in the Comments. And yes, self promotion equals automatic
disqualification. Come on now, you're better than that.

Get out of my dreams,
and into my car.

Billy,
Ocean

It is true that there are a lot of benefits to the writing life.  
There are the hours, of course, that come with a flexible schedule,  
not to mention the clothing choices. For example, right now it is  
10:30 AM, and I am wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt, and  
I feel slightly overdressed. There is the allure of feeling like  
you're totally in charge of the work that you are creating (although  
that might just be a fiction, what with editors, and publishing  
houses, and agents trafficking in and molding your word play) and the  
rather selfish thought that you might have something tangible  
existing in this world long after you've exited. And, of course,  
there is the faint glimmer of hope that you might be "The Writer",  
the next someone, and famous and rich and able to afford a sick  
summer cottage on Lake George with a tire swing and one of those  
expensive looking gas grills. But, friends, as you all know, you  
can't have pro's without...um...non-pro's. And there are several non-
pro's in the writing life.

For one, money. I don't so much make any, as I do not make any, and  
I'm actually kind of successful. For two, loneliness. I spend much of  
my day staring, either at my computer, or out the window, or at the  
hippies who are sitting next to me at the coffee shop hand rolling  
clove cigarettes. Spending day after day in the company of your own  
thoughts is (probably) the quickest way to insanity, especially for  
someone whose third grade teacher described as "irritatingly social".  
With that said, every once in awhile, I start to dream about selling  
out. It happens a lot when I'm watching "The Office", and I think about  
how much I want to complain about my job, and be forced to make lunch  
choices from a vending machine or sue someone for wrongful  
termination. Anyway, if I ever do decide to stop "stickin' it to the  
Man" and start joining the Man's Wednesday night cribbage league,  
here are three jobs that I think a writer--like myself-- could  
successfully sell out for.

1. Company spokesperson. Companies have spokespeople, people who  
usually read and write press releases and try and put a good spin on  
terrible, terrible events, or disastrous stock plunges, or the rumor  
that Rosie and Lizzie Hasselbeck aren't "great friends". Modestly  
speaking, I think I would be great at this. I always liked debate,  
even if it meant taking a side of an issue I was opposed to, and I'm  
sure I could find a way to fire myself up about looking on the bright  
side of a tire recall or the seventh straight quarter of plummeting  
Skip-It sales. In fact, I'm ready to do this job right now. Someone  
hire me. I'll be your communications Rumpelstiltskin, spinning straw  
into gold, and--depending on my compensation package-- you won't even  
have to give me your first-born child. Think on it.

2. Corporate Communications Consultant. I kind of made this position  
up, but I'm almost positive it exists. I'd be like the guy who comes  
in when the company sets aside a day for special events, and--instead  
of soliciting trust falls-- makes some neat PowerPoint presentation  
about the endless possibilities of communicating effectively in the  
workplace. I would use a lot of buzzwords, like "synergy" and  
"proactive" and "boo yah" and snap and point a lot, when someone else  
said something I liked. I'd also be frustratingly cheerful, especially  
because I was getting 10 g's a class, and end the day with some sort  
of New Age breathing exercise. Wow, it's kind of scary how well  
thought out that was.

3. Totally Famous Actor. You know when someone says "you should be an  
actor" and you dismiss it by bashfully saying you could never do  
that, but in reality you think you would be really good at it, if  
only--while you were in high school-- your mother didn't crush your  
dreams of being on television by saying that your earlobes were "a  
little big for the camera", which forced you to spend a lot of time  
staring in the mirror at your earlobes, which caused you to stop  
wearing baseball caps, which forced you to shave your head, which  
effectively prevents you from using that cool hair stuff that  
celebrities these days use, which is probably the only reason you  
aren't in Vancouver right now, remaking "House Party 2" with Nick  
Canon? Yeah, me neither.

Feel free to drop your own sell out jobs in the comments. And I know  
it's very annoying to be a Boston sports fan right now with their  
Dutch-Navy-in-the-1600s-like dominance, but if you'll allow me one  
indulgence: Happy Soxtober, baby.

Ain't Nobody Humpin' Around,

Bobby,
Brown

As those of you who read the print column and a few, scattered previous entries on said blog may or may not be aware, I'm working on a novel to use as my thesis for my MFA and then use as "walking around money" while applying for a post-graduation job as a bartender in the Blue Sapphire Lounge aboard the Carnival Cruise line Ecstasy. As it stands in real time, one draft of said novel has been completed and I am now working on the re-writes.

Generally speaking, re-writes are easier than whipping up new, fresh drafts because you already see the themes in place and (hopefully) know where you're going to be pushing your characters. Unfortunately, "generally speaking" about my novel doesn't really work while writing it, and I have hit several rocky patches along the way, if by "rocky" I mean "impossibly frustrating, tear-inducing periods of intense melancholy". With that said, I am going to present three major problems I've faced during the re-writing process and the solutions (or non-solutions) to said problems. The thinking is that by seeing the issues I have, you can take steps to avoid some of your own...or at least write a very similar book to mine that will probably sell sooner.

Re-write Issue One: Introducing a new character that wasn't previously in the first draft.

Specifics: The first draft of my novel had a lot of dudes. And a few girls. Ok, like two girls. But there was a certain need for a girl (friend) that wasn't directly invested in the main plot line and would also provide the narrator with a fresh perspective. And would make fun of him. And be good at basketball. Like, really good.

Peril: New character means new early chapters, which means whatever interactions they have will influence the thoughts of the narrator throughout the book, which means you have to change more things, or at least make sure they stay consistent, which means more work, which sounds daunting especially when written down.

Solution: Create character with a personality based loosely on friend of friend and the athletic prowess of an average WNBA two guard, and have them meet on the basketball court. Write up brief background bio and keep relationship specific to this one place, ridding yourself of having to incorporate them into other scenes. Feel smart about it when you begin talking about the basketball court being a "metaphor for the bubble surrounding their relationship". Use the term "budding relationship dynamics" in your novel workshop class. Clear throat when nobody responds.

Re-write Issue Two: Realizing that you wrote some really, really, REALLY bad chapters. Kind of in the early middle.

Specifics: Chapters 4 and 5 are, in a word, unreadable. In two words, they're breathtakingly horrifying.

Peril: Completely deleting sh*tty chapters that bridge the story line together is--like jai alai-- a dangerous but necessary game to play. Not to mention, then you have to write two COMPLETELY new chapters in their place and we've talked previously about my work ethic.

Solution: Re-read chapter in Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird regarding re-writes. Pout for several days refusing to even look at book. Get embarrassed that you could create such unthinkably poor prose. Play Big Buck Hunter 3 with friends at local dive bar, vent about problem. Note that friends only become vaguely sympathetic/concerned when you're holding pitcher of beer. Go to Espresso Royale, avoid eye contact with hippies, create outline of things you need to salvage from said chapters to push book forward. Take those things. Delete the rest. Feel sensation similar to when putting out recycling.

Re-write Issue Three: Coming up with a working title for your book.

Specifics: Um, I don't have a working title for my book. I thought I said that.

Peril: Without even a working title, book feels like a really, really long uncited lit paper. Plus, it just sounds better when--at parties-- you can say, "Moving the conversation back to me, I'm currently in the throes of passionately re-writing my novel Waterworld 2: False Pretenses On the High Seas. It's a hilarious love-dramedy with religious underpinnings. Anyways, I'm off to the after party with Eugenides, Franzen, and (R.)Kelly. Thank your wife again for the clam cakes."

Solution: Go to canonical list of weird band names on the Internet 2.0. Read the band name "A Cat Born in an Oven Isn't a Cake" and decide this is not going to help. Make list of all your favorite words while intense discussion about McEwan's Atonement takes place around you during workshop. Decide "The Great Tongue Kiss Debacle" isn't quite right. Brood.

And that's all she wrote. Feel free to offer your own solutions/problems/perils in the Comments. And stay tuned for part 2 of the Two Question Novel Quiz later on this week.

We Belong to the Light, We Belong to the Thunder,

Pat,
Benatar

Shameless Cross-Promotional Plug: My friend Sarah Walker's book, Really You’ve Done Enough: A Parents’ Guide to Stop Parenting Their Adult Child Who Still Needs Their Money But Not Their Advice has been released from Tow books. It's very funny. If you're interested, Google it, then hit one-click purchase on Amazon to buy it and the
Fantastic Four - Rise of the Silver Surfer (The Power Cosmic Edition, 2-Disc Set) DVD. Or off of the Tow books website at www.towbooks.com. Get some.

Today is Columbus Day (or, as they've called it in Venezuela since 2002, the "Day of Indigenous Resistance"). So in honor of the holiday celebrating the discovery of The Bahamas by a guy that was kind of a self-promotional (fill in your own four-letter word here), I too am going to offer my own form of discovery under the guise of 25-42 word anecdotes re: 5 books that forever altered my mental landscape and the reasoning behind said alterations.

1. The Great Brain Series by John Dennis Fitzgerald: Tom Sawyer-esque stories revolving around the escapades of the narrator's mischievous older brother "T.D." in late 19th century Utah, these books taught me valuable lessons about small town culture, religious tolerance, and water closets. They were scary, climatic, and prescient: In The Great Brain is Back, for example, T.D. breaks up a Michael Vick style dogfighting ring.

2. The Kid Who Only Hit Homers by Matt Christopher: Matt Christopher writes about heavy topics (divorce, death, immigration) under the veil of books about kids playing sports. As a kid, I thought I loved them because I, too, loved sports, but I found out much later--upon revisiting a Matt Christopher book in my mother's basement during a spell of acute boredom-- that helped me deal with stuff going on in my own life. Plus, who hasn't wanted Babe Ruth's ghost to inhabit their body while playing little league?

3. A Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger: Wait... you can write funny, haunting, stream of conscious prose with a semi-clueless cocky narrator and have it be considered American Literature? Seriously? The book that probably ruined any chance I had to go into a money making profession, I was stereotypically obsessed with Catcher, read it (on my own!!!) six or seven times in high school, and used one of its most obnoxious lines as my senior quote: "It's really hard to be roommates with someone when your suitcases are much better than theirs." Not. Cool.

4. A Prayer for the City by Buzz Bissinger: Before he wrote the book that became the Greatest Non-Cable Television Show of Our Era, Friday Night Lights, Bissinger wrote this classic chronicle of city life and politics through the eyes of (then mayor of Philly now governor of Penn) Ed Rendell. After reading this book for an Urban Politics class in college, I immediately turned around and read it again then applied for an internship at a free city paper, hoping to write the exact same type of stories about Hartford. Unfortunately, college life, access and talent intervened, but the book remains an indelible mark on my writing conscious.

5. On Writing Well by William Zinsser: Nothing has done more to influence and create my own voice and literary aspirations than this man and his simple, elegant, how-to guide to writing. Post reading this, writing became significantly less scary and increasingly simple and his term "to commit an act of literature" remains one of my favorite phrases of all time.

Anyway, I'm off to commit several acts of literature amongst the hippies at Espresso Royale. Enjoy your Day of Indigenous Resistance. And be sure and drop your own stories of mind altering literature in the Comments.

All Out of Love,

Air,
Supply