AuthorScoop is pleased to announce the launch of its newest feature, AuthorCast, an audio/visual book preview series hosted by Jamie Mason, in association with PsychJourney.com.

The inaugural episode is an interview with Masha Hamilton, journalist and novelist, about the release of her upcoming book, '31 Hours'.

'31 Hours' glides through the thoughts of Jonas, a young man, a free man, in the thirty-one hours leading up the violent stand he's become convinced he must make.  Jonas' narrative shows up the line between us and them for only a suggestion, an idea, just as fluid as any idea.  His whispered prayers in preparation for the ultimate act of conviction recall to us that a mind can be changed, even to the very fundamentals of morality, in the crucible of our modern lives.

Jonas' family realizes in these same thirty-one hours that their slow-lighting intuitions have allowed him to drift beyond their reach.  As their fears take shape, New York City wakes up to the last ticks of the stopwatch, but only a handful can hear it in their hearts and race to the source before it's too late.

AuthorCast at AuthorScoop - Masha Hamilton, '31 Hours'

When someone endorses the 'amazing talent' of their 'good friend', it's often suspected that at least one of those two tags has been exaggerated.

But I've been blessed to know a small circle of writers who I can crow over with full conviction, both for their talent and for the texture they've brought to my life.

Austin-based poet, William Haskins, is one of those writers.  Working with him on AuthorScoop is a pleasure that makes me smarter every day and now there's this:





If I went on as I'm inclined to do, it might come off as undignified.  (And as ready as I usually am to make a fool of myself, I wouldn't want that hooked to this particular occasion.) As it is, I'll say that if you are in any way interested in excellent contemporary poetry, get it while it's hot.

Sixty-six Haskins poems is the perfect primer on how you should feel after taking in the best possible words in their most evocative order.

Four pens
til the ink runs dry

One for the diary-
That dowry of
the gravestone altar
the prize
of that inevitable husband
the treasure
of the shrouded bride
every thought
that seemed worth noting
lying
(and sometimes lying)
beneath its date

One pen pressed hard
to the ledger
what first wrote
love notes
and pillow devotionals
hefts insult against bliss
bricks and feathers
tallied to a sum
of over and done
until the balance
lets one stay

Another for the stories
Laying the spider’s silk
that winds the fiction
binds it
wrapped for feasting
to fatten
all we think
and stretch each road
with possibilities
where asphalt
never could

The last pen for the verse
the lyric spyglass
that builds
necessary mountains
from overlooked molehills
and breaks Goliath
to his clay
then to his dust
then to his ode

The stylus
the quill
the stick in the sand
the ballpoint clicking
and clicking
the thumb’s annoyance
at words that
come too slowly
run, spill, leak, spew
a rainbow
from content to anguish

I match each shade
to its brand of sigh

Four pens
til the ink runs dry

AuthorScoop, the literary news blog, has reopened its discussion forums today (accessed from the top right of the sidebar.)  If you have anything writing-related you'd like to promote or talk about, you can register for free and present your two cents to a lively group who might even know what you're talking about.

The boards are geared toward writing discussions, but there's a current events board as well, so come armed with an opinion and all your best vocabulary.  We'll be waiting.

Do hope to see you there.

-Jamie

Back in March, the tabloid, News of the World, ran a story about FIA President Max Mosely and an S&M dungeon session with five prostitutes.  On any given day, it would be worthy of a fit of snickering behind the hands.  He's sixty-seven and gives the impression of being every bit the proper gentlemen.  Given the shock and hurt of his family, I'd likely think less of him for it anyway.  But it was the report of one of the women, the wife of an MI-5 agent and mother of two, that the session was Nazi-themed and a mockery of concentration camp abuses that made it an international scandal. 

You see, Mosley's parents were infamous Nazi supporters, actually incarcerated by the British during WWII for their activities.  Hitler was a guest at their wedding, which took place in Joseph Goebbel's drawing room.  No one is applauded for Nazi sympathies.  But fallen apples' proximity to the tree of origin and whatnot, for the Mosley family, any taint of it could prove disasterous.  Apparently there were forces at work who were counting on this.

Being a dedicated Formula 1 fan and often prompted to sideways looks at Mr. Mosley's execution of his office, I was inspired to write an article about the incident.  I posted it here and on my own page.  It was kind of funny.  I am still proud of the writing, but in light of Mr. Mosley's court victory for invasion of privacy and the prostitute's recanting of her embellished story, I'm retracting my commentary. 

Mr. Mosley's family has been scalded, Mr. Mosley himself has been humiliated, and the MI-5 agent has lost his job.  I can hardly claim much hardship at having to hit the delete button.

(reprinted from my article at AuthorScoop
as rebuttal to hearing a claim that fiction was a waste of time)

========================================================

"Excuse me, sir. Grab that big heavy bar, will ya?"

"Okay. Got it. What do you want me to do with it?"

"Lift it up over your head. A little further… a little further. That's it, push it. Great. You can put it down now."

"Phew."

"Would you mind doing that again, nine more times?"

"What for?"

"It's good for you. And you, ma'am, grab your ears and try to touch your knees to your chin. Excellent. Do it a hundred times. Over there, you! Yeah you. Run around in a circle until you want to die."

***

There was a time when filling our bellies and keeping the rain out of our slack, sleeping mouths was a full time job. Life was exercise. There were no flabby hunter-gatherers and pioneers didn't need Pilates. But as our conveniences got cleverer, we went soft and weak. It's not an indictment, it's only the truth. And who would go back to the days of crossing the room to turn up your stereo?

Everyone knows there's value in power-walking over a wide rubberband that's looping on rollers, and we don't question the ridiculous practice of grunting under disks of metal lifted to nowhere in three sets of ten reps each. In our modern lives, there just isn't demand enough on the muscles and tendons to keep them strong and healthy. Survival, for the most part, doesn't test our capabilities anymore. So we invented Jack Lalanne.

Life also isn't big enough, or long enough, for most of us to ever know how we'd react to an alien invasion, or what we'd want if we grew up as best friend to someone socially off-limits. The range of our experience, even among the most traveled and tormented, can't cover all we could do, given the time. Our personal dose of drama often isn't sufficient for the vast capacity of the human mind for empathy, outrage, heroism, and debauchery. So we invented fiction.

Just think about that the next time you feel guilty for wasting time between the covers of a novel. The benefits of mental and emotional calisthenics play out every day. Pure fantasy can lay the paving stones for journeys we have yet to take. And if it's well-written, forewarned is most reliably forearmed.

But if you've been sitting there too long, just raise the book over your head. And one and two and - don't lock those elbows - three and four…

Godwin's Law - As a internet discussion grows longer, the liklihood of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler increases. There is a tradition in many forums that once this occurs, the thread is over.  Usually whoever mentioned the Nazis has automatically lost whatever argument was in play and a good dose of his credibilty as well, and he's written off as an alarmist.


I didn't realize what sort of grim anniversary had just passed by this weekend.  In researching an article for AuthorScoop, I came across this and diverted my plan.  I've reposted here from my entry at AuthorScoop.com

I'm very flattered and honored to have been asked to come on board at www.authorscoop.com as a contributing editor.

AuthorScoop is a news blog for keeping current with the happenings in the world of words.  If you're a writer who needs to know so as to keep looking hip and informed in your writing circles, or if you're a reader looking to know more than all your bookish friends - check us out!

You won't be cool if you don't.

(This is peer pressure, geek style.  I don't apologize for who I am.)