There were a few bright spots in this last Bruins season, but one of the brightest, by far, was Liam’s story on E:60.
If you have a couple minutes, maybe your kids nearby, I would take the time to watch it.
Help Liam #BUMPOUTCANCER, he has his own fund-raising page.
Grantland put together a nice little documentary on the disappearance of the role of the fighter in today’s National Hockey League, starring Paul Bissonnette, Brian McGrattan, and Colton Orr on the fighting end of the stick. All three of those guys put in time in the American Hockey League this year, toiling away while they waited for spots to open up again in the NHL.
http://grantland.com/features/grantland-features-knuckles-vs-numbers/?edf
It’s about eight minutes long, give or take, so four hooking penalties or thereabouts.
All of those guys have enjoyed some success in the big leagues, but the American Hockey League is where William Murphy, protagonist of “William Murphy’s Trip to the Quiet Room” whiles away his hockey life, literally fighting for his livelihood. The book joins him once his career (and the career of his buddy, another fighter, Germaine Bousquet) is over, but the rough and tumble nature of what he did doesn’t just let go because he’s hung up his skates and his gloves.
Grantland do a great job of showing off the guys affected by this shift in mentality in the NHL away from fighters and the stats guys affecting the change. You’ll note, though, that never the twain shall meet (which is probably for the best).
So if you’re into hockey, or if these guys and the lives they live are in any way the slightest bit interesting to you and you’re an agent or publisher or know one, well, have I ever got a book for you.*
* And if you’re not into hockey, well, the book isn’t all about hockey. It’s also about plumbing, Old Sturbridge Village, time travel, mothers and daughters, the F.B.I., and Cape Cod.
If I told you I had a book and you weren’t immediately frightened by that prospect (of me having a book, not me talking to you), which title would make you more likely to read it?
Answers on a postcard… or, preferably, sent by picking a button next to your choice above and hitting “Vote”.
Still no news on the agent front (besides mean-spirited April Fools jokes), just working out my email-sending fingers.
Dennis did a spot for WGBH a little while ago in which he talks a little about his latest book, his connection to Boston, even though he’s now living on the west coast. It’s a short but sweet interview but obviously the part that resonated with me was this:
I think you write better when you are homesick. [… T]he next book is set in Boston. I’m writing it from California. I’m thinking about Boston all the time.
There’s a long history of the exiled writer, whether self- or Hollywood-imposed, and I wholeheartedly agree, I think (and others may not agree) that my best writing comes when I’m writing about home. For example, Butterfly (which may be retitled William Murphy’s Trop to the Quiet Room, for sake of trying to hook an agent’s interest) is set in Worcester, Massachusetts, the town in which I was born; a little bit in that venerable tourist attraction, Old Sturbridge Village, just down the street from where I grew up; and Cape Cod, a favorite vacation spot from my youth (and still). For each of the interminable drafts I sat in my grandparent’s floor in a three decker on Hillside Street, wandered the muddy spring paths of Old Sturbridge Village, probably with a stick of rock candy in my hand, or sat with my back against the dunes down on Nauset Light Beach. Which is to say I use that feeling of homesickness to try and make the scenes that little bit more vivid, much like Dennis Lehane does and Joyce did with Ulysses (with far greater commercial and just plain old regular success).
Dennis Lehane is appearing at Listowel Writers’ Week, which has an amazing lineup this year. If you’re in the area at the end of May you really shouldn’t miss it. Tell Anne Enright I sent you.
It’s finally, at long last, happened (I credit the chicken that I sacrificed the other night in a vat of boiling water with onions, carrots, leeks, and more)!
I have signed with I.F. Raud Literary Agency LLC, whose illustrious clients include J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Lenny the Bowler, Dan Brown, and Danielle Steele.
Butterfly, a novel, which had been retitled William Murphy’s Trip to the Quiet Room, has been retitled Lunchtime at the Sancho Panza Hotel, and is no longer about an ex-hockey player but a young female lawyer in the Northwest who finds love in all the wrong places and then in the right place, but the wrong time. Her twin sister, a basketball star for the WNBA’s Sacramento franchise, also finds love, not the same love… or is it? The part formerly played by William’s ex-teammate Germaine has transformed into a puppy, with whom the lawyer spends many poignant hours speaking to in a Dear Diary-type fashion as she walks the mist-shrouded beaches of a suburb of Seattle.
I.F. Raud, herself, will be representing me and not her (by all accounts) useless intern, Mathilda. Already we’re in talks with Harper Collins about a sequel and Paramount for the film rights. As you can imagine, I’m over the moon about this news and can’t wait to start pumping out sequels for you folks.
Everyone’s a critic, even the Post Office, it seems:
I’ll bet this same thing happened to The Crying of Lot 49
So excited at the arrival of this at the house the other day:
Churning through Owen King‘s excellent Double Feature with the intriguing The Room up next, but Michael’s latest delivery is slotted on the pile.
And on the Butterfly front, possibly to be retitled William Murphy’s Trip to the Quiet Room, no news for you, faithful reader, no news yet.
But go to Starcherone Books to get your very own copy of Foucault, in Winter, in the Linnaeus Garden.
Michael Joyce, he of the “no longer maintaining a web presence” fame (oh, and afternoon, a story, and Twilight, a Symphony, The Sonatas of Saint Francis, and Going the Distance, and, and and), once compared my latest novel to Haruki Murakami (“Murakami in Massachusetts,” specifically).
Well, I’ve yet to start an agony uncle column/website like Murakami, but I have to say, having read some of his advice (from an article in the Washington Post), I feel a new kinship with the author.
The question is “Do you have any cafe chains you like to go to?” To which Murakami answers, in part:
I miss Dunkin Donut.
Oh me too, Mr. Murakami, me too.
Brandon Prust, an enforcer for the Habs (boooo), has written an article for The Players’ Tribune with his take on how fighting still fits into the game.
As you may know by now, Butterfly, a novel, my novel about an ex-enforcer trying (and failing) to live out his days peacefully, touches on a lot of the same emotions and reasoning that Prust goes through in his article.
Once the gloves fall off, everything else kind of fades away. You can’t hear the fans. You can’t hear the ref. It’s just silence. That’s the easy part. The tough part is the day leading up to the game when you know you’re going up against a tough guy. You can’t help but think about it all day, and you go through a roller coaster of emotions.
So many of them, from Brandon, with this article, to Shawn Thornton, to George Parros, so many of them are so eloquent and articulate about the task of fighting for a living, they approach their job with such discipline and forethought, that I think they’re fascinating characters to follow for a book-length journey. Here’s hoping an agent thinks the same.
I’ve been delinquent in updating lately because there’s not much to update. Per my author scoreboard, I’ve got a bloop single in the form of a request for a full manuscript from one agent, a few rejections, and a handful of un-responses, which are possibly worse than rejections, once they remain non-responses after eight weeks or so.
In the meantime I’m at work on the next novel, tentatively titled “Ozymandias,” but it’s all still notebooks and 5 a.m. wakeup calls on that front, which is hardly thrilling stuff.
So sit tight, have a cup of tea or two, and I’m sure I’ll have something good for you soon. After all, I still have to write up my meeting with David Mitchell, my visit from the Dalai Lama, a scuba diving excursion to Des Moines, and playing ping pong with Ghengis Khan’s great-great-great-great grand daughter’s best friend Timmy.
NB. Title shamelessly borrowed from Paul Swydan for the Boston Globe.
I figured, since I’ve written three (at least) stories about the Red Sox, I had something of a connection and authority to speak on the lineup for the 2015 Red Sox. Especially seeing as each year one of our anthologies (Fenway Fiction, Further Fenway Fiction, and Final Fenway Fiction) has been published the Red Sox have either just won or are going to win the World Series. John Henry, John Farrell, give me a buzz, we’ll talk.
I appreciate Paul’s practical approach in this age of sabremetrics, but I think he missed out on some glorious opportunities. You don’t need the big power hitters of yesteryear, not since the Red Sox have signed each and every outfielder in Major League Baseball, leaving the remaining teams with scraps, the ghost of Johnny Damon’s arm, and a wind-up toy which houses a holy relic of Dom DiMaggio’s eye glasses inside a hollow in its head.
Catcher: Christian Vazquez/Rich Gedman
1B: Mike Napoli
2B: Dustin Pedroia
3B: Pablo Sandoval
SS: Xander Bogaerts
LF: Hanley Ramirez, since they can save money on the jersey and engraved bucket Manny used to pee into when he would take his breaks
CF: Mookie Betts
RF: Brock Holt
DH: Jon Lester
Speechwriter and Microphone Man: David Ortiz
Guitar: Allen Craig
Bench: Daniel Nava, Jemile Weeks, Dan Butler/Blake Swihart
Bench in Charge of Hot Foots: Shane Victorino
Drums: Shane Victorino
Bench in Charge of Hamming it Up for NESN’s Cameras: Yoenis Cespedes
Short Right Field, If No One is Paying Attention: Rusney Castillo
Bench in Charge of Interviews: Will Middlebrooks
Vice Chairman of Just Sitting on Top of the Dugout and Making Us All Smile: Dave Roberts, who will receive a golden throne and a standing ovation before each and every home game and most away games
According to statistics, the Red Sox played 784 players last year at the Major League level, which is more than any other team in the history of baseball. For such a record, they were awarded 27 more “pity wins,” which Larry Lucchino has assured the Nation ensures them a playoff spot and, in advanced simulations, they won the 2014 World Series against the Pittsburgh Pirates. In order to fit that number of players on the roster again this year they will also employ David Ortiz, who has been relieved of his DH duties by an adamant Jon Lester, who will only return if he gets a chance to hit (according to Ken Rosenthal’s brother Ken), as a designated leg breaker. Legs will be broken to ensure each player gets equal playing time in an already crowded situation.
To Chad Finn’s delight, Giancarlo Stanton has agreed to waive his contract altogether and will play the ukulele for the Red Sox in the clubhouse and host a reality show with Billy Costa and Tito Francona on NESN. He will no longer play baseball, though, for legal reasons, he has to say he plays for the Florida/Miami Marlins, which no one will be able to verify, since all their fans are at the Florida Panthers games.
Can’t wait for 2015 Truck Day!