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	<title>bestseller &amp;laquo; WordPress.com Tag Feed</title>
	<link>http://wordpress.com/tag/bestseller/</link>
	<description>Feed of posts on WordPress.com tagged "bestseller"</description>
	<pubDate>Tue, 07 Oct 2008 17:54:35 +0000</pubDate>

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<title><![CDATA[Yüzüklerin Efendisi Yüzük Kardeşliği]]></title>
<link>http://thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com/?p=121</link>
<pubDate>Sat, 04 Oct 2008 15:57:47 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>ocfan</dc:creator>
<guid>http://thejesterfromleicester.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/04/yuzuklerin-efendisi-yuzuk-kardesligi/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Yüzüklerin Efendisi&#8221; son yüzyılın en çok okunan yüz kitabı arasında en başta ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>"Yüzüklerin Efendisi" son yüzyılın en çok okunan yüz kitabı arasında en başta geliyor; bilimkurgu, fantezi, polisiye, best-seller ya da ana akım demeden, tüm edebiyat türleri arasında tartışmasız bir önderliğe sahip. Bir açıdan bakarsanız bir fantezi romanı, başka bir açıdan baktığınızda, insanlık durumu, sorumluluk, iktidar ve savaş üzerine bir roman. Bir yolculuk, bir büyüme öyküsü; fedakarlık ve dostluk üzerine, hırs ve ihanet üzerine bir roman...</p>
<p><a href="http://thejesterfromleicester.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/975342163x.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-122" title="975342163x" src="http://thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com/files/2008/10/975342163x.jpg?w=195" alt="" width="195" height="300" /></a></p>
<p><strong>http://rapidshare.com/files/150881546/yuezuek_karde__351_li__287_i.rar.html</strong></p>
<p><em><strong>şifre: thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com</strong></em></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Willbur Smith -Şimdi Ölmek Zamanı (10/10 puan)]]></title>
<link>http://thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com/?p=101</link>
<pubDate>Sat, 04 Oct 2008 14:29:49 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>ocfan</dc:creator>
<guid>http://thejesterfromleicester.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/04/willbur-smith-simdi-olmek-zamani-1010-puan/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
Taita, çok sevgili kraliçesi Lotris’in ölümünden sonra, mumyalama ritüelini yerine getirir ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://thejesterfromleicester.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/975405245x2zx3it.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-102" title="975405245x2zx3it" src="http://thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com/files/2008/10/975405245x2zx3it.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="285" /></a></p>
<p>Taita, çok sevgili kraliçesi Lotris’in ölümünden sonra, mumyalama ritüelini yerine getirir ve kraliçesini görkemli bir cenaze töreniyle gömer. Yaşadığı acı ve ıstırapla başbaşa kalmak istediğinden her şeyden elini eteğini çekerek Afrika çöllerinin en uzak köşelerinden birinde yaşamaya başlar. Sonunda, büyük kederini büyücülüğün gizemlerini incelemeye adar. Zamanla olağan üstü güçlere sahip olur ve Büyücüler Kralı olarak anılmaya başlar. Mısır’ı üzerine çöken kötülük bulutlarından kurtarmaya çağrıldığında, artık çektiği acı ve ıstırabın kutsal bir amacı olduğuna inanmaktadır.</p>
<p><strong>http://rs166.rapidshare.com/files/87686977/simdiolmekzamani.rar</strong></p>
<p><em><strong>şifre:thejesterfromleicester.wordpress.com</strong></em></p>
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<title><![CDATA[1000 copies of "The eMedha Paradigm" sold in first 2 weeks !!! ]]></title>
<link>http://rakeshmisra.wordpress.com/?p=10</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 03 Oct 2008 14:02:43 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>rakeshmisra</dc:creator>
<guid>http://rakeshmisra.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/03/1000-copies-of-the-emedha-paradigm-sold-in-first-2-weeks/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[****************************************************************************************************]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:left;">***********************************************************************************************************</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;">Note</span></strong></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I'm trying to keep my readers posted about news/events regarding my recently published book, <strong>The eMedha Paradigm</strong>, through a weekly blog (usually posted over the weekend). This blog is already available at couple of other websites. Recently few of my readers asked me to post the same blog here at Wordpress website as well as they frequent this site. Hence, I'm posting all previous blogs here for the sake of completeness.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Going forth (from coming weekend onwards), you'll get to read a new post once-every-week.</p>
<p style="text-align:left;">***********************************************************************************************************</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">The news is yet to sink in, the significance is yet to settle down.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">It was a quiet afternoon of 15th August (this year) when I'd launched this book, The eMedha Paradigm, in front of a select audience. Though getting an overwhelming response was something that I certainly wished for, even a decent sale of few hundred copies would have been great in realistic domain, esp since only media coverage during this period was a web press release!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">But then, I was underestimating the reading quotient of my audience, esp colleagues from my current organization who posed their confidence in this book by lapping up significant number of copies. When bookstore shutters came down on 31st August, the first major milestone in any book's (as well as its author's) journey had been accomplished by this book: 1000+ copies had been sold!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><strong>THANK YOU, DEAR READERS, FOR YOUR FABULOUS RESPONSE !!! </strong></p>
<div class="mceTemp" style="text-align:justify;">
<dl class="wp-caption alignnone">
<dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://rakeshmisra.wordpress.com/files/2008/10/emedha1.jpg"><img class="size-full wp-image-12" title="The eMedha Paradigm" src="http://rakeshmisra.wordpress.com/files/2008/10/emedha1.jpg" alt="The eMedha Paradigm" width="445" height="602" /></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd">The eMedha Paradigm</dd>
</dl>
</div>
<p style="text-align:justify;">As I gear myself up for an uphill task, getting the book across to a vast reader-base across India, I recollect a blog that I'd written at the beginning of this year.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I'd made a new year self-commitment to get this book, The eMedha Paradigm, published before end of 2008 and I wanted to keep track of my efforts (through blog) as I would have gone through the tedious process of looking for a publisher, dealing with rejection, trying again until a publisher accepted the manuscript etc.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">As luck would have it, I got a publisher as soon as I made my first serious attempt to get one. In wake of that good luck and unprecedented pressures from my day-job, I couldn’t keep up with my blogging commitment that I’d made to myself. More so, a lot of time and energy got directed towards working with my publisher to bring out the print edition.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Having gone through this full circle as well as moving past first meaningful milestone of my writing career, I'll try to hang out lot more in this blogspace! Also, since aforementioned blog was my very first step towards getting this book published, I think it’s only fair to start my second blogspace innings by including that blog at the end of this post.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">We'll meet again soon. Until then...</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Have a nice time.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Rakesh Misra</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><a href="http://www.rakeshmisra.com">www.rakeshmisra.com</a></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">********************** Blog from the Past **********************</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><strong>Operation eMedha : An impulsive writer strives to become a successful author</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><strong>31-Dec-2007</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><em>Transcript of a CNN broadcast anchored by Monita Rajpal.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">No one could have imagined that an unknown IT professional from India will do a Houdini and give us this year’s mega seller book, The eMedha Paradigm. This book has already sold more than a million copies in first six months itself!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">This is nothing less than a miracle for a book that was left in cold by its writer for almost six years as he struggled to survive through a catastrophic hit to his entrepreneurial venture, in wake of 9/11. As his focus shifted back to corporate world, a promising writing career got nipped in the bud. Until…until, a weary eyed editor somehow stumbled upon his book on an online publishing website. And, the rest as we say, is history.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to present the man behind this year’s mega-seller…the Indian phoenix… Rakesh Misra !!!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><strong>01-JAN-2008</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Last night, I waited until last few nanoseconds of 2007 for one of my guardian angels to appear and wave her magic wand towards TV so that aforementioned CNN broadcast could become a reality.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Alas, that was not to be the case…</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I can’t believe that all the heavenly powers of creation couldn’t accomplish even such simple task, even though I’d given them an opportunity window of one year!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">At the beginning of year 2007, I’d made a deal with heavenly community that I’ll move out of the scene after putting my book on web. After that, they will get their fair chance to try out their magical powers to bridge the small gap that existed between an unknown PDF file on web and a mega-seller book that had its place of pride in bestseller section of Borders and Waterstones of the world. They just had to get one top-of-the-line editor to “somehow” stumble upon my book’s online avatar, read it, take first plane to India to get my sign on a multi-million, multi-book deal and do the rest of stuff like publishing it, promoting it etc.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Was it too much to ask for?</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I guess, it was.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">So, here am I…Sitting in a lonely, cold room in Noida, trying to write my first blog.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">This was Plan B, you see…</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">While striking that deal with heavenly folks, I’d said to myself that if they are not able to show any results, I’ll do this not-so-glamorous task myself...like printing out the manuscript, finding out addresses of publishers who might be interested in my first work, searching for some literary agent to get me a good deal, sending out the manuscript to first publisher, then second, then third…so on and so forth.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Plan B also included keeping a record of all such mundane tasks that I have to do in order to get my first book, The eMedha Paradigm, published…first, an Indian sub-continent edition and then, for rest of the world markets. And, this blog is supposed to help me record the times I’m about to venture into. I haven’t thought of any fixed periodicity for this blog, but will update it as and when I make any effort towards seeing my book in print.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">In a way, keeping this web journal will kind of force me to keep on making progress so as not to let this blog entry be the first as well last one for the whole of 2008!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Having set the background and agenda for this blog, my mind goes back to a fine day in Feb, 2001 when it all started.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">********************** Flashback **********************</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I’d been in IT industry for nine years when I resigned from Infosys, the reigning mascot of Indian IT, and took an entrepreneurial plunge that had been enticing me for quite sometime.<br />
When my friends and family came to know about this decision, they were nuked because they knew that due to my erstwhile gypsy life, I’d been playing a monetarily zero-sum game throughout my career.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">So when I woke up on an early February, 2001 morning, my possessions included money that would see me through next twelve months, freedom from corporate boundaries and an idea that has been tempting me from sidelines since the early days of my software project management career.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">This teasing idea originated from a basic paradox that loomed large in the software arena: while we had physically moved on from “Industrial Era” to “Information Age”, our underlying management paradigms had not changed much. The duality of “what-was-being-preached-to-practice” was in extreme conflict with “what-was-happening-in-real-life-scenarios” ; hence, making our lives real difficult.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">With this background and understanding, I started working towards a “realistic” paradigm for software project management domain. The work that I did over next few months resulted in eMedha that I viewed upon as a realistic roadmap for software project management practitioners.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">In its final form, eMedha stood for:</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">empowering ambience, Manageable Targets, entrepreneurial attitude, decisive mindset, heuristic approach, attainable quality</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Around summer of 2001, I released eMedha in training and consulting market as first commercial product/service of my entrepreneurial avatar. The feedback that I received was overwhelming both in terms of responsiveness as well as meaningful critique and suggestions.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I kept on getting opportunities to present eMedha to bigger and broader audiences through seminars, conferences, training courses and corporate events. Still, I had initially not envisioned putting eMedha in a book form.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">The idea of turning it into a book came from the most unlikely place…</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I was in a metro city to present eMedha to an elite gathering of senior IT managers. On my way back, I was lazing around in airport lounge as my flight was delayed. Sprawled on a comfy lounge sofa, I was just shuffling through eMedha presentation material that I’d shared with seminar delegates. It was sometime before I noticed a familiar face across the table.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Was it for real?</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">The reigning heart throb of Indian film industry was sitting across me! While other males in the lounge must have thought that she sat over there as that was the only sitting space available in the overflowing lounge, I still believe that my intellectual persona (near-by lying eMedha presentation material, CDs and a serious look) compelled her to sit near-by :-)</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Anyway, after initial shock and hormonal aberrations subsided, I asked her for an autograph. She smilingly obliged on the back of my boarding pass!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Almost few minutes into “our” conversation, she suddenly asked me what eMedha was all about.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Before I could envision her as being an ardent fan of this software project management paradigm, she pointed towards eMedha stuff that was lying around me. While she wasn’t able to follow exactly what software project management was all about, she got interested in the human traits that I’d associated with eMedha.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Like all the good things, “our” meeting came to an abrupt end as her flight was announced. Just before she got up, she asked me for a copy of eMedha book. When I told her that I work through Presentations, CDs and web only, she looked perplexed.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">“Don’t you think that bringing out eMedha in a book format will take it to much bigger and broader audience?”</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Slowly I was able to reconcile with the fact that magic of her persona extended well beyond her fairy-like beauty.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">“Send me a copy if you ever write one,” these were her last words as she moved towards the lounge gate.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">“Sure. I’ll even mention that you gave me this idea,” I mumbled through in trance.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">She smiled back before fading away out of sight. For next few minutes, I basked in envious glory as people around me tried to find out any hidden talent or good looks in me.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">During my flight back home, I went through myriad thoughts as I tried to think through feasibility of her suggestion. If I wanted maximum number of software professionals (and even people from other walks of life) to benefit from eMedha philosophy, I needed to put it in a book format.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">So, soon after my return to home, I went into a self-imposed exile for next four weeks. My laptop and endless cups of tea kept me company.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">When I embraced the rest of the world again, I found myself in a situation where a divorce loomed large and my clients and friends were ready with most-wanted-preferably-dead-than-alive posters. I could buy my peace only when I showed them first draft of this book to reassure that I hadn’t wasted away those four weeks perfecting my computer gaming skills!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Initially I’d written the book in an academic, non-fiction format. Then, somehow I realized that I’ll be able to reach across to a much wider audience if I can weave the eMedha philosophy in an interesting storyline and present it in fiction format. Hence, the current form of the book came into being: bringing eMedha philosophy to you through story of Kalpana, the main protagonist of this fictitious storyline.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">As you might have guessed by now, this name (Kalpana) is my tribute to the angel eyes who inspired me to turn eMedha into a book. Kalpana is her childhood nickname...I owe you at least this much, you-know-who-you-are!</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Coming back to the book…</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">This book was initially supposed to be published through my software consulting venture, MisraSoft and was to be distributed in North America and Europe through my US &#38; Europe based business associates in 2001 itself.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Unfortunately, one of them suffered huge personal &#38; financial losses in the wake of 9/11 tragedy. Losing out one key partner, even I lost my rhythm vis-à-vis getting this book published and marketed. It didn’t help either that the book was anyway supposed to be a secondary medium as far as eMedha’s evolution and success was concerned because it was moving on greatly through corporate training and consulting circles.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">**********************  End-of-Flashback **********************</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><strong>01-JAN-2008 :: 11:34 PM</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">It was a big nostalgic break that I took in-between…</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I need to wrap it up to keep up with my self-commitment of posting this blog with today’s dateline. More so, having NOT won the multi-million dollar book deal last year, I still need to go to my day-job tomorrow.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">Having spent last few hours in writing this blog (with some excerpts from the eMedha book as well), one quote of Helen Keller comes to my mind:</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">I long to accomplish great and noble tasks, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">See you again. Same place. Sometime down the line.</p>
<p style="text-align:justify;">***********************************************************************************************************</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Akhbar nasional, Sinar Harian dedah laporan Tip Karier untuk Wanita Moden]]></title>
<link>http://motivasiminda.wordpress.com/?p=1557</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 03 Oct 2008 07:02:59 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>aliman</dc:creator>
<guid>http://motivasiminda.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/03/akhbar-nasional-sinar-harian-dedah-laporan-tip-karier-untuk-wanita-moden/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Klik di sini












ZAMRI MOHAMAD merupakan penulis bebas, blogger, jurulatih penulis bebas. Be]]></description>
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<p style="line-height:1.5em;text-align:justify;margin:0 0 1em;padding:0;"><strong></strong><span style="color:#999999;">ZAMRI MOHAMAD merupakan penulis bebas, blogger, jurulatih penulis bebas. Beliau menghasilkan buku-buku perhubungan, karier dan cinta. Buku-buku beliau kini berada di Malaysia dan boleh dibeli secara online bagi pembaca di Singapura, Indonesia dan Brunei. Pembaca blog ini boleh memilikinya pada harga diskaun dan penghantaran ke rumah  hanya melalui pembelian online.<strong><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></strong></span><a href="http://zamrimohamad.com/buku.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Klik dan dapatkan hari ini</strong></span></a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[The Blind Assassin - Margaret Atwood]]></title>
<link>http://jesscreadsbooks.wordpress.com/?p=87</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 02 Oct 2008 09:46:27 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>jessc</dc:creator>
<guid>http://jesscreadsbooks.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/02/the-blind-assassin-margaret-atwood/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[The Blind Assassin the first time around sucked butt. The second time, it was better, but I got bor]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>The Blind Assassin</em> the first time around sucked butt. The second time, it was better, but I got bored. The third? Well... it was just amazing. Spectacular. Set it's place on the list my top ten faves. Weird, eh?</p>
<p>Books are, I think, like relationships. Sometimes you just aren't ready to be with the people who you have recently met by chance. They are people who you would be perfect with ten years later. People who, if you had your time with them again at a later date, may be the one you want to spend your life with. Pity you can't just put someone on the shelf until you are ready (well, some people try...).</p>
<p><!--more--></p>
<p>But worry not. You can with books. They don't take it personally. In fact, some of the best books I have read took me years to finish; books that I have put down for several months, only to pick back up again, not from where I stopped, but right from the beginning. Only to have me put it back up on the shelf for a little while longer. <em>The Blind Assassin</em> was one of them.</p>
<p>What I previously found boring and inane suddenly became complex and mysterious. The plot was not a celebrated collection of short stories, but an intricate web of lives and history. But what I found most amazing about read #3 was the fact that I never would have ever experienced such awe in <em>The Blind Assassin</em> had I not bought it on a whim one sunny day in spring. If it did not own crappy real estate in the top corner of my bookshelf, I probably would have just gotten past the first chapter, found it crappola, cursed all the reviewers who found the book absolutely spectacular, returned it back to the library or wherever else I managed to get my hands on it and never give it another thought ever. Again. </p>
<p>Instead, every few months, I would take it back down from the top shelf and dust down the heavy cake of dust secreted into the pores of it's cover. I would most likely be a rainy day where I had nothing better to do, therefore I can safely factor a cup of tea into the equation. And finally, one day, my cup of tea would cold.</p>
<p>And yes, it would be amazing.</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Literaturstöckchen]]></title>
<link>http://ennoja.wordpress.com/?p=161</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 01 Oct 2008 11:15:18 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Enno</dc:creator>
<guid>http://ennoja.id.wordpress.com/2008/10/01/literaturstockchen/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Wo wir gerade beim Thema Literatur waren: Ich nehme mal das zugeworfene Literasturstöckchen von kie]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Wo wir gerade beim Thema Literatur waren: Ich nehme mal das zugeworfene Literasturstöckchen von <a title="kieliscalling" href="http://kieliscalling.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">kieliscalling</a> auf.</p>
<p>1. Nimm das erste Buch in deiner Nähe<br />
2. Öffne das Buch auf Seite 123 und finde den dritten Satz<br />
3. Poste die nächsten drei Sätze<br />
4. Wirf das Stöckchen, die ursprüngliche Regel sagt 5, ich sage an wen auch immer, weiter</p>
<p>Okay - here we go:<br />
<em>"Mit der Generation Doof ist sie bestens vertraut. Jährlich bewerben sich bei ihr Dutzende Studenten um begehrte Jobs in der kreativen Branche. Hofer hat schon oft miterlebt, wie hart der Aufprall mancher Traumtänzer auf dem Boden der Realität sein kann: Wer das Studium überwiegend zum Ausschlafen genutzt und einen Großteil seiner Freizeit damit verbracht hat, diese geschmeidig totzuschlagen, kann mit den hohen Anforderungen der Unternehmen nicht mithalten."</em></p>
<p>Quelle: <a title="Generation Doof" href="http://www.amazon.de/Generation-Doof-bl%C3%B6d-sind-eigentlich/dp/3404605969/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&#38;s=books&#38;qid=1222859000&#38;sr=8-1" target="_blank">Stefan Bonner/Anne Weiss: Generation Doof. Wie blöd sind wir eigentlich?</a></p>
<p>Leider habe ich den Bestseller gerade erst käuflich erworben, so dass ich nichts zum Inhalt sagen kann. Ich habe lediglich in den Medien einige Auszüge gelesen. Das obenstehende zufällige Zitat des Stöckchens ist ja bereits inhaltlich sehr aussagekräftig. Macht Lust auf mehr (Trivialliteratur?).</p>
<p>Apropos Trivialliteratur... Da hatte ich doch heute noch einen Zeitungsbericht über das Thema "Feuchtgebiete und Bushido führen Bestsellerlisten an" gelesen. Finde den Link leider nicht mehr. Es ging darum, ob diese Bestseller (nämlich recht niveaulose Trivialliteratur) ein Indikator für unsere Gesellschaft sind.<br />
Im gleichen Atemzug fällt mir eine <a title="Liebe mich und meine Kinder" href="http://www.vox.de/vox-dokus_8582.php" target="_blank"></a><a href="http://www.vox.de/vox-dokus_8582.php" target="_blank">Vox-</a>Doku-Soap (Liebe mich und meine Kinder) vom Wochenende ein, wo ein "esoterisch angehauchter alleinerziehender Familienvater auf Frauensuche" stolz damit prahlte, seinen Kindern im Pubertätsalter Charlotte Roches "Feuchtgebiete" als Aufklärungslektüre geschenkt zu haben. Da kann sich jetzt jeder seine eigenen Gedanken und Meinungen zu machen... Ich sag dazu nichts. Gefunden habe ich noch <a href="http://jetzt.sueddeutsche.de/texte/anzeigen/449338" target="_blank">diesen</a> "Feuchtgebiete"-Kommentar in der "<a href="http://jetzt.sueddeutsche.de/texte/anzeigen/449338" target="_blank">SZ jetzt</a>"-Onlineausgabe. Isch seh dasch kritisch nä...</p>
<p>An wen kann ich mein Stöckchen weitergeben? <a title="arneburda" href="http://www.arneburda.de" target="_blank">Arne</a>, magst du?</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Merke:]]></title>
<link>http://aoifesknihy.wordpress.com/?p=38</link>
<pubDate>Mon, 29 Sep 2008 09:26:14 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Aoife</dc:creator>
<guid>http://aoifesknihy.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/29/merke/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Auch wenn sich die einzelnen Bände einer gewissen Jugendbuch-Fantasy-Vampir-Romanze ewig auf den Be]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Auch wenn sich die einzelnen Bände einer gewissen Jugendbuch-Fantasy-Vampir-Romanze ewig auf den Bestsellerlisten halten und das Halbe Kai Meyer-Forum schon bei der Erwähnung des Namens der Autorin in Begeisterungsstürme ausbricht sollte man vieleicht doch auf <a title="kritik von Elizabeth Hand" href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/08/07/AR2008080702528.html" target="_blank">gewisse Rezensionen</a> achten und die Finger von dem Buch - bzw. dem Hörbuch lassen. Das einzig positive was ich bisher über das Twilight-Hörbuch sagen kann, ist das die Sprecherin wirklich gut ist...das Buch hätte ich schon lange in eine Ecke geschleudert, das Hörbuch hab ich jetzt lange durchgehalten, aber irgendwann ist Schluss.</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Can I Get An Amen?]]></title>
<link>http://chandlermariecraig.wordpress.com/?p=513</link>
<pubDate>Mon, 22 Sep 2008 03:42:38 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>cmcraig</dc:creator>
<guid>http://chandlermariecraig.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/22/can-i-get-an-amen/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[There&#8217;s only one truly awful reason not to write: You&#8217;re scared.
But I get it. I do. I w]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>There's only one truly awful reason not to write: You're scared.</p>
<p>But I get it. I do. I was scared to death to write. I thought, Who am I to write a book? More than that, Who am I to even think that I could write a book?</p>
<p>And publishing? Forget it!</p>
<p>But I want to share something that not only told me that I could and should go for it, but keeps me motivated every day to get something down on paper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(*Note: I don't think you need any religion whatsoever for this to apply. Not tryin' to stand on the pulpit here!*)</p>
<p><em><strong>The Parable of the Five Talents</strong></em></p>
<p><em>To one he gave five talents of money, to another two talents, and to another one talent, each according to his ability.  Then he went on his journey.  The man who had received the five talents went at once and put his money to work and gained five more.  So also, the one with the two talents gained two more.  But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.</em></p>
<p><em>After a long time, the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them.  The man who had received the five talents brought the other five.  “Master,” he said, “you entrusted me with five talents.  See, I have gained five more.”</em></p>
<p><em>His master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant!  You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.  Come and share your master’s happiness!”</em></p>
<p><em>The man with the two talents also came.  “Master,” he said, “you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.”</em></p>
<p><em>His master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant!  You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things.  Come and share your master’s happiness!”</em></p>
<p><em>Then the man who had received the one talent came.  “Master,” he said, “I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed.  So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground.  See, here is what belongs to you.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Take the talent from him and give it to the one who has the ten talents.  For everyone who has will be given more, and he will have an abundance.  Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him.  And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”</em></p>
<p><em>- Matthew 25:14-30 (NIV)</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>So, it's not like I ever fancied myself a young, white girl version of Toni Morrison or anything. I just knew that I had a huge passion for books and that writing is something I always wanted to pursue.</p>
<p>Since I was ten I wanted to be a writer, but always thought it impractical. (Yes, I was a very rational little girl. I think even then I wanted to be a lawyer--or maybe race dogsleds.) </p>
<p>Anyway, I was a counselor at my childhood camp a couple years ago and re-heard the parable of the five talents. I swear, someone might as well have spanked my behind with a rolled up newspaper because I felt downright forlorn that I had been the servant who had buried my talent.</p>
<p>There was good news, though! I could dig my talent up, dust it off, and start putting it to use.</p>
<p>Now, every day I think, It's not about whether or not I get published because I'm peddling that talent. I'm using it to get new talents. Like writing graphic novels. And reviewing books. And now snagging my agent, getting ready to submit to publishing houses.</p>
<p>So many good things have come from dusting off that rusty old talent. The one I wasn't even sure was in the same spot.</p>
<p>I kept writing through rejections letters, through close calls, and through moments where that damn plot was stuck in a quagmire so mucky Bilbo Baggins himself couldn't wade through. I did it because I'd know there was something inherently wrong about sticking my talent back in the dirt.</p>
<p>Point being: If you want to write. Write. Don't be scared. I think this comes at a particularly good time because so many people are considering doing Nanowrimo. Now, I'm not saying the book you wrote for Nano will be on the fast track to the NYT bestseller list, but it's a great place to brush the dirt off your talent and let it stretch its legs. So have fun and start planning for November or whatever writing related goals you may have! Look forward to hearing about your successes!</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Status:</strong> Still expanding my synopsis. I must say, I think it's coming out well. I mean, it should be when eeking out each page takes me a day! That's ok, though, because I want it to be perfect.</p>
<p>It's got some dialogue and I've incorporated several captions. I think it's really capturing the "feel" of the graphic novel. I also had a cool breakthrough with the help of the artist regarding some of the "science" behind shapeshifting. Tons of fun and I got the chance to add it to the synop.</p>
<p>And, if you don't know what in the heckfire I'm talking about and, instead, would like to be clued in, stop by my<a href="http://chandlermariecraig.wordpress.com/scout" target="_self"> Scout </a>page!</p>
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<title><![CDATA[die Chemie des Todes...]]></title>
<link>http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/?p=173</link>
<pubDate>Sat, 20 Sep 2008 20:31:02 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>July</dc:creator>
<guid>http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/2008/09/20/die-chemie-des-todes/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Irgendwie ziehen mich Triologien an.
Jetzt gerade habe ich das Buch &#8220;Die Chemie des Todes]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Irgendwie ziehen mich Triologien an.</p>
<p>Jetzt gerade habe ich das Buch "<a title="amazon" href="http://www.amazon.de/Die-Chemie-Todes-Simon-Beckett/dp/3499241978/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&#38;s=books&#38;qid=1221942410&#38;sr=8-1" target="_blank">Die Chemie des Todes</a>" (2006) von Simon Beckett durchgelesen und merke:<a href="http://currywurstimstehen.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/chemie-des-todes1.jpg"><img class="alignright size-full wp-image-175" title="chemie-des-todes1" src="http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/files/2008/09/chemie-des-todes1.jpg" alt="" width="240" height="240" /></a></p>
<p>Der Krimi hat bis jetzt schon zwei Folgeteil.</p>
<p>Nun erst einmal zum ersten Teil:</p>
<p>Die Geschichte spielt in der heutigen Zeit in England. David Hunter, einer der besten forensischen Anthrologen Englands, zieht nach einem tragischen Unfall, bei dem Frau und Kind starben, aufs Land um als Landarzt zu arbeiten und ein neues Leben zu beginnen.</p>
<p>Als die erste Leiche gefunden wurde, holt sein altes Leben ihn wieder ein. Denn bei der Leiche handelt es sich um eine halbverwehste und verstümmelte Bewohnerin des kleinen Dorfes...</p>
<p>Dieses Buch ist sehr sehr spannend und wird zum Ende hin immer spannender. Ich musste das Buch fast in einem Stück durchlesen... ;-)</p>
<p>Aja, das Buch ist übrigens ein Bestseller.</p>
<p>Also schaut mal rein und schreibt mir eure Meinung...</p>
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<title><![CDATA[amazon]]></title>
<link>http://machine314.wordpress.com/?p=116</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 18 Sep 2008 21:11:41 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>machine314</dc:creator>
<guid>http://machine314.id.wordpress.com/?p=116</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Bestseller
Computer Science
Science und Technology
]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www.amazon.de/b?%5Fencoding=UTF8&#38;site-redirect=de&#38;node=186606&#38;tag=machswebl-21&#38;linkCode=ur2&#38;camp=1638&#38;creative=6742">Bestseller</a><img style="border:none!important;margin:0!important;" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.de/e/ir?t=machswebl-21&#38;l=ur2&#38;o=3" border="0" alt="" width="1" height="1" /></p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.de/b?%5Fencoding=UTF8&#38;site-redirect=de&#38;node=124&#38;tag=machswebl-21&#38;linkCode=ur2&#38;camp=1638&#38;creative=6742">Computer Science</a><img style="border:none!important;margin:0!important;" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.de/e/ir?t=machswebl-21&#38;l=ur2&#38;o=3" border="0" alt="" width="1" height="1" /></p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.de/b?%5Fencoding=UTF8&#38;site-redirect=de&#38;node=121&#38;tag=machswebl-21&#38;linkCode=ur2&#38;camp=1638&#38;creative=6742">Science und Technology</a><img style="border:none!important;margin:0!important;" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.de/e/ir?t=machswebl-21&#38;l=ur2&#38;o=3" border="0" alt="" width="1" height="1" /></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Number 1 bestseller books list from 1990 to 1999]]></title>
<link>http://printedpages.wordpress.com/?p=65</link>
<pubDate>Sun, 14 Sep 2008 14:18:46 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>printedpages</dc:creator>
<guid>http://printedpages.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/14/number-1-bestseller-books-list-from-1990-to-1999/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[List of the Number 1 bestseller books and their authors during the decade of 1990 to 1999. This list]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>List of the Number 1 bestseller books and their authors during the decade of 1990 to 1999. This list was compiled from lists published for each year by Publishers Weekly magazine. These books are still pretty commonly found in many venues such as used book stores, garage sales, estate sales, flea markets, and your favorite website for used books.</p>
<p>1990 - The Plains of Passage by Jean Auel</p>
<p>1991 - Scarlett by Alexandra Ripley</p>
<p>1992 - Delores Claiborne by Stephen King</p>
<p>1993 - The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller</p>
<p>1994 - The Chamber by John Grisham</p>
<p>1995 - The Rainmaker by John Grisham</p>
<p>1996 - The Runaway Jury by John Grisham</p>
<p>1997 - The Partner by John Grisham</p>
<p>1998 - The Street Lawyer by John Grisham</p>
<p>1999 - The Testament by John Grisham</p>
<p>John Grisham celebrated 6 of the 10 titles on the best seller list during this decade. Quite an amazing feat in my humble opinion.</p>
<p>Of the titles listed above, you can find a first edition copy of Scarlett on this website:</p>
<p><a title="Scarlett" href="http://www.the-paper-trail.com/scripts/prodView.asp?idproduct=677">The Paper Trail</a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Chapter 2 Tuesday Afternoon]]></title>
<link>http://thehalfofit.wordpress.com/?p=54</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 11 Sep 2008 23:55:03 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>abouttothunder</dc:creator>
<guid>http://thehalfofit.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/11/chapter-2-tuesday-afternoon/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Oh, my melancholy fool.
 
October 13, 1992
 
Naturally, she would always remember the moment she m]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 0 .3in;"><strong><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Oh, my melancholy fool.</span></span></em></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 0 .3in;"><strong><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></em></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;" align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">October 13, 1992</span></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Naturally, she would always remember the moment she met Ian. In fact, she was fortunate enough to have it recorded. Of course at the time she didn’t realize the importance of what she recorded, or who she would be meeting on that talk show. And by all rights, she should have met him in the green room, but he’d been delayed in traffic. By the time he arrived she was already onstage. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Her slightly dazed condition made her segment seem both quick and unending. She remembered being introduced. Then she blathered on about her novel, the characters, and being stunned about how it had made the bestseller list. Marjory Vasquez deftly led her through the interview, likely preventing her from making a real fool of herself. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Will there be a sequel?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I don’t think so. There really isn’t anywhere to go from here.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“But you’ve gone to all the trouble to create the world and the cultures…”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s very true, but unless new characters from that world come to me with a new story, I’ll have to be done with it. I can’t really write the same thing over again.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Many authors do so very profitably.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Good point. My writing is character driven. Until a character lets me in on his or her story, I really don’t have any idea.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I wish you the best of luck with your next project.” Marjory then turned to the audience and camera, “Many thanks to our first guest, Joy Mitchell. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Our next guest has a long and distinguished film resume, playing characters that range from sweet and seductive to downright evil. What you may not know, is that his theatre resume is equally distinguished. He started his career many years ago on the stage in his native England, before coming to America. Now he’s returning to the stage here for a new play called Second Sight. Please welcome Ian Stevens.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian walked on wearing half a smile, blue jeans, a white shirt and a black jacket. Standard attire including the smile, Joy would later learn. She found herself surprised to be paying close attention to him.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">He shook hands with Marjory and Joy, nodded cordially to the audience, and took his seat. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Welcome,” Marjory said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Thank you. It’s good to be here.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“We’ll just jump right into the questions here. Your resume is about evenly balanced now between film and stage credits. Do you prefer doing one over the other?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I think the stage credits still substantially outnumber the film credits actually. But my preference depends on that which I’ve just done. Lately, I seem to be spending much more time on movie sets. It’s all work of course, but each seems like a vacation after the other. At least for a while.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Onstage, you’ve done quite a bit of Shakespeare. What are the challenges?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That was quite a long time ago. But to answer your question, for me it’s a bit of a proving ground really. That’s in part because of its complexity. There’s the verse of course. And then there’s the weight of the expectations associated with it. There’s a lot to live up to.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Is it harder than doing a new play?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It’s not really a fair comparison. The risks are completely different. There’s a certain freedom with new works, but also a burden to prove their worth. Getting free of the inertia of tradition can be very difficult. I do like the energy associated with new plays. It’s a much different atmosphere. We always hope that the audience picks it up, too. We do our best.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Tell us a little bit about the production you are currently in, Second Sight.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Well, it’s a romantic farce, although it’s deeper than a strict farce. Love at first sight is a theme. A number of people are smitten, but of course not with each other. There’s more to it, but I don’t want to give too much away.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Is any true love revealed?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Well, you’ll have to come and see it, won’t you?” He looked a bit smug just before he turned to the audience and said, “We’re still in preview this week. Opening night is next Friday, and there are still some tickets available, I’m told.” Surprisingly, enthusiasm and sincerity trumped the obvious playing of the audience. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Not for long, I’m sure. So do you believe in love at first sight?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“What kind of love would that be?” He paused briefly, looking thoughtful. “No I don’t think so. But, it is an interesting idea, and it makes for a great story.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“So you’re not a romantic.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Oh, I think that I am,” he replied, half smile back.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Your fans will be glad to hear that. They’d also like to know, considering that you were divorced about two years ago, if you’re eligible.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I don’t talk about my personal life. It’s not important to the work I do,” he said effectively shutting down that line of questioning.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Marjory recovered quickly moving on to asking him about planned film projects. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">After the interview they walked back to the green room together to collect their rain gear. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That went reasonably well, I think,” Joy said, just looking for something to say. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Very well for you. I saw most of it from the green room. Good for me until near the end.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Oh, when she tried to get too personal?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes. Unfortunately, the divorce is public record. But I’m certainly not going to talk about it or my eligibility with the media.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I may be a writer, but I don’t have a single journalistic aspiration. And I won’t ask those kinds of questions, but I’d actually like to know more about this play you’re in. It sounds interesting.” That didn’t come out very well, she thought. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or something? I can bore you with too many details.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Disarmed by the warmth in his eyes, she agreed. Surprised too, expecting perhaps a quick synopsis before a parting of the ways. Instead, they walked in the rain to a coffee shop nearby. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Do you worry about being recognized,” she asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It doesn’t happen too much as long as I don’t go out of my way to attract attention. People don’t seem to notice me out of context. When they do, New Yorkers at least, are pretty good at letting me go about my business.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I guess it’s a good thing you don’t look like you,” she said with a smile.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Conveniently, a number of my movies have been period pieces, costume dramas and the like.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">They found a table in a corner that afforded them a little bit of privacy as well as a window to watch passersby. Ian pointed to the book still in her hand, “That’s really your first book?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes, but I have a couple others, not fantasy, in progress. Have you read it?” She cringed as soon as she said it, wishing she hadn’t put him on the spot. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“No. Not yet, anyway. May I?” he asked, reaching for the book. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She handed it to him and said, “Consider us even then. I’ve only seen two of your movies and didn’t realize that was you in them. I noticed the characters you played. They made an impression. I’m ashamed to say, your name didn’t stick.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Can you remember it now?” There was a bit of calculated mischief in his half smile.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I think so,” she said grinning in spite of herself. Flirt, she thought, not sure if she meant herself or him.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Really, I’d rather have the characters remembered. Then I know I’ve done my job well.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I think I’ll have to go looking for the others.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Good luck with that. Some of the more interesting ones are getting difficult to find. Peril of doing indie films. They either don’t get released or they go out of print.” He paused for a moment. “So why are you switching genres already? You’ve a bestseller.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Funny how that works. That bestseller was a story that came to me and demanded to be written. It just happened to be a fantasy. I wasn’t looking to write one specifically. In fact, I wasn’t even looking to write a book at all. It eventually became a gift for my daughter. The others also came to me demanding to be written, but I put them aside until after the first one was finished. They just happened to have diverse backgrounds. It’s making my agent’s life tough,” she said ruefully. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“If you ask my agent he’ll tell you that he loves having me on his client list, but I’m not always an asset to his bank account. At least that’s what he likes to tell me. What does your family make of your sudden success?” When he looked at her, it seemed as if time stopped. His attention belonged entirely to her in a warm and completely unthreatening way. She admired his social skills while quickly considering her answer.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“My daughter Jessie, who’s nineteen and a sophomore in college, is duly impressed. Her father would have been, but he passed away three years ago.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’m sorry. That must have been very difficult.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Thank you. It was. Has been. Is still sometimes.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I didn’t mean to dig that up. You get a freebie. My divorce. My wife wanted to move back to England. I didn’t, just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was a truly irreconcilable difference. No infidelities. We never had any kids to complicate things. Ultimately, she divorced me and went back.” He played absently with a plastic coffee stirrer.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’m sorry for that. So is this home, now?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Hard to say. I’m not really sure where that would be anymore. England doesn’t quite feel like home like it probably should, or like it used to, but America doesn’t feel like it either. To make matters worse, my things are in storage and I’ve been living out of hotels for the last two years.” Suddenly he seemed accessible and endearingly ordinary.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Why on earth have you been doing that?” She touched his hand briefly, wishing she could just leave it there. That shocked her, as did the idea that she didn’t want to scare him off. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">He smiled without looking up, continuing to mangle the coffee stirrer, finally tying it into a knot. “Indecision, travel, work… I just hadn’t got around to it. Somehow a few months became two years.” He shrugged. “I’m actually hunting for a flat now. I suppose I should call it an apartment, but flat is the one word I can’t seem to switch over. Stupid, just stubborn probably.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I like it,” she said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It doesn’t get the odd looks that lift and lorry did when I used to slip with those.” Ian looked at his watch, “I’m so sorry, I really have to go.” His regret appeared genuine. “And I never even told you about the play. So I’ll say this, I think it’s wickedly funny. And there’s always a bit of danger in preview. Who knows what could happen. I could leave a ticket for you, if you’d like to come.” He actually looked hopeful. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She wondered when and whether to trust an actor. “All right. I would like to see it. Thank you.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Quickly he wrote his phone number on the cardboard cup insulator. “Here’s my number at the hotel. Call me. I want to know what you think of the show.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Give me that book back a minute,” she said. Inside she wrote </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">To Ian, </span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">For whom all the world’s a stage.</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span>       </span>Fondly,</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0 0 0 .5in;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span>       </span>Joy</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She added her phone number under the dedication and handed it back to him. He read it and smiled, saying “You have no idea how appropriate that is. Thank you.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;" align="center"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">***</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span>  </span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Her friend, Christine grilled her later on the phone, but probably wasn’t terribly satisfied with the answers.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“We just sat and talked,” Joy said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“What about? Anything juicy?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“No, not really. We compared agents. He invited me to the play tonight. He’s excited about it, the play that is.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Come on, what else?” Christine was beginning to lose patience.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">This stumped her. She remembered the way he lit up from within talking about the show.<span>  </span>“All kinds of little things that tick the moments by.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“You like him,” Christine declared in a tone that was used to stating indisputable facts.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“What?” Joy was momentarily bewildered by the actual meaning of the words.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“If you didn’t you’d be telling me every detail clinically.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“The details are escaping me.” It wasn’t wholly true, but they surfaced slowly like single bubbles. And she found herself curiously reluctant to share.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Like I said, you like him. So, is he available?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I believe so.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s a good start.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;" align="center"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">***</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian left her a note with her ticket.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Joy,</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-size:small;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;">Please come around to the stage door after the show. I’ll give them your name so you’ll be let in. It will be easier than trying to tell you where to go, and fighting the crowd inside.</span></em></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"><span>                          </span><span>          </span>Ian</span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><em><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></em></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She was surprised and willing, even though she was a little bit nervous about the idea. Although she’d been to many shows, she never bothered going to the stage door after any of them. What she wasn’t prepared for was the crowd. They seemed to mostly be waiting for Ian. At least they appeared to be a friendly bunch, cheerfully allowing her a clear path to the door. Admittance was as easy as knocking and giving her name. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">One of the dressers was waiting for her with a message: Ian would be out for her in a minute. When he appeared, he was already out of costume but had yet to remove his makeup. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Come with me,” he said, gesturing for her to follow. “Lucky for me,” he said, “It’s an old building. I get my own dressing room. Of course it’s tiny, but that’s not important.” She could barely keep up with him down the hallway until traffic slowed him down. He introduced her to so many people that she couldn’t begin to keep track of them. One of the cast members even begged her to sign a copy of her book. Joy agreed only on the condition that she could have her playbill autographed in return.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">By the time they actually made it back to Ian’s dressing room the other cast members were starting to leave. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s good,” he said. “I prefer to be the last one out. Anybody waiting outside the stage door at that point is serious about it. Of course, I don’t want to make them wait too long, either. It’s nice to be appreciated, but…”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Some nights it might be nice to just walk out?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes,” he agreed somewhat sheepishly. “I feel guilty saying that because it sounds ungrateful and I don’t mean it to be. It really goes with the territory.” He finished wiping off the stage makeup. “Can I take you out for a drink or a meal, or dancing, or something? You name it.” He was just enough unsure of himself that she didn’t hesitate.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Which? Or all of the above?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I guess we’ll have to figure that out.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian escorted her to the waiting limo and then nearly bounded back to the stage door to sign autographs. He managed to be efficient while at the same time appearing to take his time with each person. Joy couldn’t hear the conversations, but he seemed gregarious and graciously at ease. With a last wave and a nod to the remaining crowd, he slid in beside her. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“What do you usually do afterwards?” she asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Oh, some nights we meet for drinks. Other nights, I stop back at the hotel and then go for a walk. Or get something to eat. Speaking of which, have you? Eaten, I mean?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes, hours ago.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Of course. So did I, but wished I hadn’t. I should know better by now than to eat before going onstage.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Nerves?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“You could say that.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian, often the master of understatement, later admitted to having been physically ill before the previews and on opening night. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">They ended up at a restaurant, the kind that served generic American food with pretensions and a matching price tag. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It has a few things to recommend it,” Ian said. “The food is good, the tables are not jammed up next to each other, and it’s fairly dim. Also, we should be able to get a table.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Of course he was right. They were seated quickly, with the service giving the impression of being efficient but not obsequious. They would not be rushed here.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I want to know,” Ian said, “what you thought of the play.” His smile went past his eyes, which sparkled in the candlelight, to include itself inexplicably into his posture.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It was very funny and very sweet. Strangely insightful, too.” She hoped she was answering correctly, even though she really knew that there were no right answers.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It has layers. Very well written,” he said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Over time I have come to the conclusion that anything worth seeing is worth seeing more than once. The same thing applies to books, too. Once through isn’t enough. I just miss too much the first time around. Maybe I read too quickly.” She stopped talking, realizing that she was rambling on too much.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’m guilty of the same thing.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Just then the waiter came for their order. Joy found it a welcome moment to collect herself, desperate to find again the ease they had that afternoon, even earlier in the evening.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Tell me about you. I mean I know you write. I know you have a daughter. Tell me more,” Ian said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Joy giggled. She couldn’t help it. “I feel like I’m on an interview.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that at all. Shall we take turns then?” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Sure.” Now she couldn’t stop grinning at him. He was off balance and accessible again.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Do you want to ask me something first? Anything. But you have to be willing to answer the same question,” he said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s fair.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Well, go on. You go first,” Ian said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“What part of England are you from?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Innocuous question. London. What about you. What part of America are you from?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Not too far from here. A little town in Pennsylvania called Lehighton. It’s technically within the Pocono Mountains, but only people from this area would call them mountains. Your turn.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Parents?” he asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Excellent, but both unfortunately gone too soon. Yours?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Wish I could say the first. They are also both gone. Your turn.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Siblings?” she asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“One brother nearly two years younger. What about you?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Only child. Your question.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Middle name and maiden name in your case.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Alice. It was my grandmother’s name. And Thompson. Your middle name?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Eliot. After T. S. Eliot. Your turn.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Musical instruments?” she asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“None. You?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Flute for a couple years as a kid. I’ve forgotten all of it. I was never any good, anyway. Your question,” she said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Favorite season,” he said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Hard to choose, but I’d have to say spring.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“We agree on that. Your turn.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Sports?” she asked</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“No thanks. I mean, I wasn’t particularly good at any of them and developed avoidance strategies. I don’t fancy watching them either.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I got by, but didn’t voluntarily participate. No favorites. And I don’t follow any. But I think we’re playing one now. Starting to look like tennis.” She giggled. “Next question.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Birthday,” he said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“April 27, 1950.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“You didn’t have to tell me the year.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“But now you do. You asked the question. So out with it,” she said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian giggled. “I’ve been cornered. It’s privileged information, but it looks like you have privileges. October 17, 1950.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“So I have a few months on you. And it’s coming up in a couple of days. I think it’s my turn. Favorite movie that you weren’t in.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Believe me; I wasn’t in any of my favorite movies. Dr. Strangelove and Life of Brian.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s two. I sense a fondness for humor.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“You’re lucky I was able to confine it to a list of two. Answer the question, please,” he said.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“My current favorite is Truly Madly Deeply. It might just be personal history, but this movie has displaced everything else on the list.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Well written, well acted. What of ghosts? Do you believe in them?” he asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“No unfortunately. It might’ve helped. You’re up. That didn’t count.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“All right. Favorite book that you didn’t write.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“The Door Into Summer by Robert Heinlein. And yours?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“It keeps changing. Quite often, it’s whatever I’ve just read, if I liked it. Though they’re not books strictly speaking, and I prefer to see them rather than read them, but Peter Barnes plays have to be on the list. I’m sorry. I can’t just name one.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Ah, the sign of a true reader. My list is actually much longer, too. It’s just luck that I was able to name one book off the top of my head. If I thought about the answer more, I’d be in trouble.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Whose turn is it?” he asked.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I don’t know. I’ll ask a question. Coffee or tea?”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Both, but not at the same time.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Joy giggled. “That does not sound like a gourmet concoction, but someone is sure to have tried it.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s sounds disgusting. I’m picky about the tea, less so about the coffee.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“That’s fair. I like both also. The day must start with coffee though. That is non-negotiable.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’ll remember that,” he said with a wink.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">The evening ended far too quickly for Joy’s taste even though it was actually nearly one in the morning by the time they got back to her hotel. Ian put a hand on her arm before she got out of the cab. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’ll call you,” he said. “No, really. I just realized how that sounded. It’s not the standard line.” </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">She considered herself lucky she wasn’t yet standing. The expression on his face would have knocked her knees from under her. His persona had disappeared entirely and what remained was a mixed look of hope and concern. A puppy would have had nothing on him. Her free hand went to his cheek and she kissed him without lingering too long. It was a great act of will to stop. Forehead to forehead and nose to nose she said, “I expect to hear from you.” She kissed him again quickly and got out of the cab before she could do anything else.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;" align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:center;margin:0;" align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">October 14, 1992</span></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“So, is this going to be a thing?” Christine asked the next day.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“A thing?” she answered stupidly.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes, a thing. You know exactly what I mean. You and him. A thing.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Isn’t it a little soon to be figuring that out? We only just met yesterday.” Reticence winning out again. Joy didn’t quite want to admit yet that’s exactly what she wanted.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Not necessarily. There can be signs.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“There were flowers waiting on my doorstep when I got home this afternoon. Is that what you mean?” Reticence starting to crumble.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes, something like that.” Christine had a way of finding the bull’s eye nearly every single time.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">Ian called just as he said. With that look on his face, Joy didn’t really doubt that he would. Or think that he would make her wait for it. He didn’t. Ten minutes after she hung up with Christine, the phone rang.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Hi Joy, it’s Ian.” She wondered if she would get used to the sound of that voice on the phone. It was one of the more distinctive and sonorous she’d encountered, delicious to hear. The accent didn’t hurt either.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Hi. Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’m glad you like them. Very convenient for me that you have a listed number. But you might want to get that changed. Your newfound success might make that desirable.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Probably not a bad idea. I hadn’t really given it any thought.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“But don’t forget to give me the new one when you do.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have it.” She was glad he couldn’t see her insane grin over the phone. </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“I’m going to be incredibly forward, but could I talk you into coming back to New York on Sunday? I can arrange a hotel room for you.”</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Yes, that would be nice. I’d like that.” In an effort to steady her voice, she completely twisted herself into the phone cord.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Great! Sunday of course, I have two performances. I could get you a ticket for the evening performance, if you’d like,” he said, sounding like he couldn’t possibly believe she might want to see it again.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.3in;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:&#34;"><span style="font-size:small;">“Please do. I can’t think of a better way to spend the evening,” she said. And she couldn’t honestly think of anything she’d rather do. </span></span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Die Wanderhure]]></title>
<link>http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/?p=102</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 11 Sep 2008 18:33:22 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>July</dc:creator>
<guid>http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/2008/09/11/die-wanderhure/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Hallo ihr Lieben,
Heute stelle ich euch das Bestsellerbuch- &#8220;die Wanderhure&#8221; (2004) von ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Hallo ihr Lieben,<a href="http://currywurstimstehen.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/die-wanderhure.jpg"><img class="alignright size-full wp-image-108" title="die-wanderhure Deckblatt" src="http://currywurstimstehen.wordpress.com/files/2008/09/die-wanderhure.jpg" alt="" width="217" height="217" /></a></p>
<p>Heute stelle ich euch das Bestsellerbuch- <a title="bei amazon" href="http://www.amazon.de/Die-Wanderhure-Iny-Lorentz/dp/3426629348" target="_blank">"die Wanderhure" (2004) von Iny Lorentz- </a>vor. Es ist das erste Buch einer Triologie.</p>
<p>Ich habe bereits alle drei Bücher gelesen und werde sie euch nach und nach vorstellen- damit ihr immer schön am Ball bleibt! ;-)</p>
<p>Die Geschichte des Buches spielt im 15 Jahrhundert in Südwestdeutschland. In der Stadt Konstanz lebt Handelsherr Matthis Schärer mit seiner wohlerzogenen Tochter und Jungfer Marie. Seine Frau ist bei der Geburt des Kindes gestorben und Marie ist ohne Mutter aber mit Hausmagd aufgewachsen.</p>
<p>Wider erwarten hielt ein wohlhabender Herr -Magista Ruppertus Splendidus- um Maries hand an. Die Freude war groß!</p>
<p>Doch natürlich trügt der Schein. Der Bräutigam entpuppt sich als äussers hinterhältig. Er lässt Marie vergewaltigen, der Unzucht anklagen, auspeitschen und aus der Stadt verjagen.</p>
<p>Fast zu Tode geprügelt ist die hilflose und naive Marie auf sich allein gestellt.... nur ihre Rachgefühle lassen halten sie am Leben...</p>
<p>Echt spannend und super interessant. Das Buch ist leichtlesbar geschrieben und enthält viele Emotionen und Handlungen, sodass es nie langweilig wird.</p>
<p>Nebenbei lernt man sogar noch etwas über die Geschichte (Am Ende findet man einen historischen Überblick) und über die (schlimmen) Verhältnisse von damals. :-D</p>
<p>Mir hat das Buch sogut gefallen, dass ich gleich die Nachfolger verschlungen habe. Nach meiner Schwester liest jetzt gerade meine Mutter die Bücher.- Also ein echt guter (Frauen-) Roman- :-D</p>
<p>Lest selbst!!</p>
<p>Bis demnächst</p>
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<title><![CDATA[NYT Bestselling author Kate Jacobs returning to Schuler!]]></title>
<link>http://schulerbooks.wordpress.com/?p=45</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 10 Sep 2008 21:11:14 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>schulerbooks</dc:creator>
<guid>http://schulerbooks.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/10/nyt-bestselling-author-kate-jacobs-returning-to-schuler/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[We have just learned that Schuler of Lansing will have the honor of kicking off Kate Jacobs tour to ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>We have just learned that Schuler of Lansing will have the honor of kicking off Kate Jacobs tour to promote the release of <em><strong>Knit Two</strong></em>, the sequel to the NYT-bestselling smash <em><strong>The Friday Night Knitting Club!</strong></em></p>
<p>This comes after a great Girls Night Out event with Kate this past May to promote the release of the stand-alone novel <strong><em>Comfort Food</em></strong>.  We are thrilled that she'll be coming back in January of 2009, and will keep you posted as to the date!</p>
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<title><![CDATA[10 Things An Agent Might Not Wanna Hear]]></title>
<link>http://chandlermariecraig.wordpress.com/?p=430</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 10 Sep 2008 21:02:12 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>cmcraig</dc:creator>
<guid>http://chandlermariecraig.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/10/10-things-an-agent-might-not-wanna-hear/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[ An agent calls to talk to you about your project. Yay! But there might be another reason he wants ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p> An agent calls to talk to you about your project. Yay! But there might be another reason he wants to talk to you on the phone. Here's 10 surefire things you can mention to make him regret ever dialing your number.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>1. So, when will my movie be made?</p>
<p>2. You can guarantee me a $200,000 advance, right?</p>
<p>3. Alright, so when I call you every twenty minutes, you'll get back to me within five, ya?</p>
<p>4. You're so lucky to have me. I mean, you'll really thank me when I make the bestseller list.</p>
<p>5. Thanks for offering, I'll get back to you in ten weeks, k?</p>
<p>6. I took thirteen years to write this novel, but don't worry I'll cut it down to ten for the next.</p>
<p>7. Oh shoot, did I forget to tell you? I already accepted an offer. Thanks for reading my entire novel in 2 days though.</p>
<p>8. Yeah...um...can you just hold that thought while I query a dozen or so other agents? No offense, but I queried by third tier choices first.</p>
<p>9. So, have you sold anything in my genre? I didn't bother checking because I figured you could just tell me when we talked. Time management. Smart, huh?</p>
<p>10. You want me to...REVISE!? How dare you doubt my genius!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Moral of the story: It's usually a good idea to avoid sounding arrogant, psycho, cracked out or all three. Good talk. See you out there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Status:</strong> Taking some suggestions from incredibly fabulous AW members. Will be thinking hard these next 2 days. It's a tough life, Charlie Brown. (Kidding! Kidding.)</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Elisa Davoglio recensisce Storia penace]]></title>
<link>http://gennarogrieco.wordpress.com/?p=385</link>
<pubDate>Sun, 07 Sep 2008 01:23:22 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>gennarogrieco</dc:creator>
<guid>http://gennarogrieco.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/07/elisa-davoglio-recensisce-storia-penace/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Un viaggio nella percezione del corpo come implacabile e colpevole dittatore, attraverso la ricogniz]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;"><a href="http://gennarogrieco.wordpress.com/files/2008/05/libgrieco.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-full wp-image-310" title="libgrieco" src="http://gennarogrieco.wordpress.com/files/2008/05/libgrieco.jpg" alt="" width="110" height="154" /></a><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;">Un viaggio nella percezione del corpo come implacabile e colpevole dittatore, attraverso la ricognizione di una mente che lo assolve solo nella follia.<br />
Riflettendo chiaramente il pensiero dell'autore che dice della propria opera nella postfazione <em>“questo non è un racconto... non è un romanzo... questo è una storia” </em>il titolo “storia penace” è esemplare nel sintetizzare una trama che si snoda in brevi paragrafi numerati, scanditi da una prosa netta e veloce, quasi nervosa, che ne rispecchia una forma narrativa poco incline al virtuosismo linguistico.<br />
La scrittura di Grieco è urgente e essenziale, eppure non semplice, scavata in periodi che riecheggiano la militanza poetica dell'autore, e che mirano a mantenere una costante e vigile attenzione da parte del lettore, anche se le pagine contenenti i singoli paragrafi detengono una autonomia rispetto alla storia, come singole poesie all'interno di una silloge.<br />
La poesia appartiene a “storia penace” come un luogo dove si può commentare la “volatilità” dell'erotismo e dove il corpo si dilata fino a perdere il senso del suo peso, della sua carcassa inevitabile (“...è qui la <em>poesia</em>...cambiar pelle // soprattutto, umidissima la <em>poesia </em>nel prendere aria”) e dove anche la sconfitta del sesso e della vita appare più mostruosa, come una faccia distorta da un frammento di vetro.<br />
L'immaginario di Grieco è vivissimo nella storia che vive di una trama quasi accessoria, rispetto ai singoli stacchi del racconto che come piccoli acuti si propagano al di là del “fatto” e della dimensione erotica.<br />
Così la maestrina, il cimitero, il suicidio, il paese, diventano temi su cui l'autore – nella sua scrittura che ingloba sapienti descrizioni con un linguaggio quotidiano che poi di nuovo va a riparare nella costruzione e nella sintassi poetica – articola ben più di una “storia penace”.<br />
Anzi, segmenta in paragrafi il tratto dell'erotismo, per resuscitare altro dell'uomo, e commentarlo a fianco dell'esigenza della poesia, in un inventario di piccoli accadimenti che lo stesso Grieco mette nella storia allo stesso livello del “fatto” principale, garantendo al suo lavoro una sicura originalità. (Elisa Davoglio, <a href="http://www.literary.it/dati/literary/davoglio_elisa/storia_penace.html" target="_self">Literary</a> nr.6/2008)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;"><em><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;">Ho trovato casualmente questa recensione sul portale letterario </span></em><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;">Literary<em>. Non conosco <strong>Elisa Davoglio</strong>, l’autrice, e quindi si tratta di una sorpresa, di una piacevole sorpresa: perché si è procurata il libro, perché l’ha letto, perché addirittura ne ha scritto (e bene, direi, se afferma che “la poesia appartiene a Storia penace”). </em></span><em><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;">Vedo da internet che è una giovane scrittrice. Dopo un paio di pubblicazioni di poesia, è uscito nei mesi scorsi da Mondadori il suo primo romanzo, </span></em><span style="font-size:8pt;font-family:Verdana;">Onore ai diffidati<em>. Auguri vivissimi per la sua scrittura e grazie, grazie davvero.</em></span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Klein-Buchpreis kämpft sich hoch]]></title>
<link>http://duenenwanderer.wordpress.com/?p=572</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 02 Sep 2008 08:04:46 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Dünenwanderer</dc:creator>
<guid>http://duenenwanderer.id.wordpress.com/2008/09/02/klein-buchpreis-kampft-sich-hoch/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Kleinkinder haben&#8217;s wirklich nicht leicht. Zumindest glaube ich, dass sie selbst das denken. U]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://duenenwanderer.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/buchpreis.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-578" src="http://duenenwanderer.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/buchpreis.jpg?w=238" alt="" width="238" height="300" /></a>Kleinkinder haben's wirklich nicht leicht. Zumindest glaube ich, dass sie selbst das denken. Und wer einmal einem rotzüberströmten Zwerg ins Gesicht schaut, wird das bestätigen. Ich will mich jetzt und hier in unserer trauten Runde mal einem Vierjährigen widmen, der eben auch so seine Probleme hat, der manchmal sicher auch Rotz und Wasser heult. Sein Name: Deutscher Buchpreis.<br />
Diese vom <a href="http://www.boersenverein.de/de/portal/index.html" target="_blank">Börsenverein des Deutschen Buchhandels</a> ins Leben gerufene Gelddruckmaschine würdigt seit dem Jahr 2005 jährlich zur Frankfurter Buchmesse den besten deutschsprachigen Roman. Also zumindest den Roman, den die jeweiligen Juroren dafür halten. Und der zuvor von den Verlagen vorgeschlagen wurde. Dieser Kleine soll uns Lesevieh eine Orientierung im dichten Buchdschungel liefern, die schließlich wahrlich nicht leicht ist.</p>
<p><!--more--></p>
<p>Denn, mal ehrlich: Wie soll man sich in diesem Wust an ständigen Neuerscheinungen auch zurechtfinden? Kann man Elke Heidenreich wirklich trauen? Ist es mit dem Zeugs, das auf der Spiegel-Bestseller-Liste nicht schon zu spät, wenn es drauf erscheint? Sind Feuilletonisten diverser Zeitungen nicht eh ziemlich durchgeknallt? Ob nun der Buchpreis diese erhoffte Orientierung bietet, ist ebenfalls recht umstritten. Kritiker werfen unserem Vierjährigen Wettbewerbsverzerrung vor, schließlich bekommen die Auserwählten auf der sogenannten Longlist, der späteren Shortlist und vor allem letztendlich der Preisträger dermaßen viel Aufmerksamkeit, die Lizenz zum Gelddrucken, während das Restebuchvolk hinten runter fällt. Auch sind - siehe so sinnige Sportarten wie Eiskunstlaufen, Turnen oder Turmspringen - Bewertungen einer Jury immer mit Vorsicht zu genießen [welch bescheuerter Vergleich, ich weiß...]. Mit dieser Kritik muss sich der Deutsche Buchpreis seit seiner Geburt herumschlagen - und hat dabei ein echtes Imageproblem.</p>
<p>Klein-Buchpreis hat dieser Tage nun die Longlist der 20 Auserwählten in diesem Jahr vorgestellt. Wer sich darauf alles befindet, findet man <a href="http://www.deutscher-buchpreis.de/de/177061?meldungs_id=225604" target="_blank">hier</a>. Um das angekratzte Image aufzupolieren, werden diese 20 Bücher in einem kleinen Lesebuch vorgestellt. Inklusive Leseproben und Autorenportraits. Diese Broschüre sollte kostenlos bei den Buchhandlungen des Landes bereitliegen. Eine schöne Idee, eigentlich. Nur leider kam dann wohl zum Image- auch ein kleines Marketingproblem. Zunächst weigerten sich die Verlage, die Finanzierung des Heftchens zu unterstützen. Und dann lag das Teil zum angekündigten Termin eben nicht in den Buchhandlungen bereit. Besser noch: Die meisten Buchhändler wussten garnix davon. Wenn sie denn überhaupt schon etwas vom Deutschen Buchpreis gehört hatten oder wussten, wann der verliehen wird. Zunächst dachte ich ja, dieses Problem gibt's nur im beschaulichen und ab und zu recht arroganten Heidelberg. Mitnichten, wie man <a href="http://www.boersenblatt.net/226985/" target="_blank">hier</a> nachlesen kann...</p>
<p>Gut, Hartnäckigkeit zahlt sich manchmal doch aus, beim siebten oder achten Nachfragen war der Gratis-Orientierungshelfer schließlich angekommen. Zwar nicht bei der Buchhandlung unseres Vertrauens, aber immerhin in der Stadt. Klein-Buchpreis hat also zumindest im Moment die Kurve gekriegt. Und jetzt herrscht auch erst mal wieder Ruhe an der Kritikerfront. Allerdings nur bis zur Preisverleihung im Rahmen der Buchmesse im Oktober. Ich bin gespannt, ob es der Zwerg irgendwann mal schafft, erwachsen zu werden. Irgendwann reicht's ja auch mal mit dem Rotz-aus'm-Gesicht-wischen...</p>
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<title><![CDATA[STEALING WISHES reaches #1 on the Amazon Kindle!]]></title>
<link>http://recklesseyes.wordpress.com/?p=597</link>
<pubDate>Sun, 31 Aug 2008 16:10:30 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>shannonyarbrough</dc:creator>
<guid>http://shannonyarbrough.com/2008/08/31/stealing-wishes-reaches-1-on-the-amazon-kindle/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Wow!  What a great weekend this has turned out to be.  Imagine my surprise today to discover that ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Wow!  What a great weekend this has turned out to be.  Imagine my surprise today to discover that STEALING WISHES has reached #1 on the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/bestsellers/digital-text/172503011/ref=pd_zg_hrsr_kinc_1_5_last" target="_blank">Amazon Kindle</a> today in the gay and lesbian fiction genre!</p>
<p><a href="http://recklesseyes.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/kindle.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-598" src="http://recklesseyes.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/kindle.jpg" alt="" width="969" height="561" /></a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Have A Cup Of Tea - Or Three]]></title>
<link>http://darkseraphina.wordpress.com/?p=7</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2008 07:14:06 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>darkseraphina</dc:creator>
<guid>http://darkseraphina.id.wordpress.com/2008/08/28/have-a-cup-of-tea-or-three/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[&#8221; &#8220;I can&#8217;t read it&#8230;I can&#8217;t read anything. This is the greatest sadness]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<blockquote><p>" "I can't read it...I can't read anything. This is the greatest sadness of my life. I'll do anything so the children of my village never have to know this feeling. I'll pay any price so they have the education they deserve." "</p>
<p><strong>Three Cups Of Tea, </strong>Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin, page 153</p></blockquote>
<p>An old man, the head of his small, impovershed village in Baltistan (a region in northern Pakistan in the Karakoram Range of the Himalayans) speaks these words to Greg Mortenson, an American nurse and mountain climber after the completion of a small school. These words, according to Mortenson, along with Haji Ali's willing sacrifices for the building of that school and his bedrock common sense, make him the wisest man Mortenson had ever met.</p>
<p>Of course, Mortenson is possibly a contender for the title. His idea is simple - children belong in school. Not revolutionary, true, but few people spend years of their life in poor Islamic communities, building schools dedicated to ensuring that the children of these small villages, especially girls, have a place to study. Period. Build schools, make sure everyone including girls can attend, and make sure what they learn is balanced, and the same ciriculum that the government sets for the public schools.</p>
<p>It took Mortenson three years and several setbacks to build that first school. After that, with the establishment of the Central Asia Institute, he built another fifty-five - all since 1996. In the process, he spent months at a time in Pakistan, travelled to Afganistan's refugee camps, witnessed the aftermath of 9/11 in a Muslim country, overcame through Islamic law two <em>fatwa</em>s, and touched the lives of tens of thousands of people.</p>
<p>I cannot recommend this book enough. I can't descibe how good it is and why. It is. Try it. If you do, and you don't find it a good book with a powerful, humanitarian message about a man who surely will one day with the Nobel Peace - I want to hear about it and why. But love it or hate it - read the book.</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Here i go, In LOVE with Saudis]]></title>
<link>http://modeltownblog.wordpress.com/?p=760</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 26 Aug 2008 16:54:21 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>modeltownblog</dc:creator>
<guid>http://modeltownblog.id.wordpress.com/2008/08/26/here-i-go-in-love-with-saudis/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[GIRLS of RIYADH
click book cover

( Thank You Suzaane for sending it to me from Canada )
I was expec]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h2 style="text-align:center;"><span style="text-decoration:underline;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girls_of_Riyadh" target="_blank"><span style="color:#ff0000;">GIRLS <em>of</em> RIYADH</span></a></span></h2>
<p style="text-align:center;">click book cover</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://modeltownblog.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/img0730a.jpg" target="blank"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://modeltownblog.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/img0714a.jpg?w=468" alt="" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;">( <em><strong><span style="color:#339966;">Thank You Suzaane for sending it to me from Canada</span></strong></em> )</span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;">I was expecting the different cover, like that one <a href="http://modeltownblog.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/cover.jpg" target="blank"><img src="http://modeltownblog.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/cover.jpg?w=63" alt="" /></a> </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;">but this one is even better.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;"> This would be my first ever novel, </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;">i am a slow reader but when i finish i will write something here :)<br />
</span>
</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;"><strong><span>Author: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rajaa_Alsanea" target="_blank"> <img src="http://modeltownblog.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/raja.jpg?w=60" alt="" /> Rajaa Alsanea</a> or (<a href="http://aawsat.com/english/news.asp?section=3&#38;id=3552" target="_blank">read her interview</a>) </span></strong></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#000000;"><strong><span>and for </span>more: <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/48165376@N00/1226049135/" target="_blank">please click here</a> or goto <a href="http://www.google.com.pk/search?q=%22girls+of+riyadh%22&#38;ie=utf-8&#38;oe=utf-8&#38;aq=t&#38;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&#38;client=firefox-a" target="_blank">Google</a></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;"><strong>Finished:</strong> <strong>Terrific novel.</strong> </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ff6600;font-size:x-small;">Available for borrowing within model town, just drop me a line at modeltownblog@gmail.com and i will let you know where to pick it.</span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Book Review: All Your Worth -E. Warren]]></title>
<link>http://diaryofadink.wordpress.com/?p=68</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 26 Aug 2008 08:38:11 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>diaryofadink</dc:creator>
<guid>http://diaryofadink.id.wordpress.com/2008/08/26/book-review-all-your-worth-e-warren/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[From the Library of DiaryofADink
I&#8217;ve decided to share some books from my own personal library]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[[caption id="attachment_75" align="aligncenter" width="143" caption="From the Library of DiaryofADink"]<img class="size-full wp-image-75" src="http://diaryofadink.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/frommylibrary1.jpg" alt="From the Library of DiaryofADink" width="143" height="95" />[/caption]
<p>I've decided to share some books from my own personal library as well as those that I may read each week during library and bookstore visits.  My hope is that readers will be intrigued by a book (even one that I may not have enjoyed) and will go purchase or borrow the book and read it for themselves.  Some of these books are old favorites.  Others are books I would never read again.  But I believe every book has something to offer the reader and I hope to provide some good learning experiences I had from each book I review as well as my own opinions, criticism or action taken as a result of reading the book.</p>
<p>Onward...</p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>On the recommendation of several money-minded folks on the <a href="http://www.llnoe.com">Living Like Noone Else Boards</a>, I browsed through a copy of "All Your Worth" by Elizabeth Warren last week (clicking on the picture will take you to Amazon to see their review of the book but I have no affiliation with them and I'm not receiving any compensation for this review from anyone).</p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.com/All-Your-Worth-Ultimate-Lifetime/dp/0743269888/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&#38;s=books&#38;qid=1219739937&#38;sr=8-1"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-71" src="http://diaryofadink.wordpress.com/files/2008/08/allyourworth.jpg" alt="" width="115" height="115" /></a></p>
<p><strong>1 minute Synopsis:</strong></p>
<p>Figure out how you will live by building a budget based on the following numbers: 50% expenses, 30% towards things you want, and 20% to savings.  While it's important to cover the necessities without overextending yourself, life is for living and should also include spending on things you enjoy along the way.  You don't have to deprive yourself of everything you love living on ramen for the rest of your life just because you got into debt.</p>
<p><strong>What I learned:</strong><br />
I really enjoyed the introductory part where she talks about how the rules have changed. She said that it used to be good advice to just get a degree and a good job, and that everything in life would fall into place if you dutifully bought a house and didn't spend too much.  Today, banks and credit cards have helped many people dig very deep debt holes and now they feel trapped and can't get out.  Today, jobs are unreliable and may not last until you're 65 and ready to retire.  Today, the average family can't afford a new car and a typical house without overextending themselves by several times their annual salary. </p>
<p>DH and I have spoken about this quite a bit during our first year of marriage as we've tried to figure out how we may or may not ever achieve the "typical" newlywed goals of homeownership, 2.5 kids, and a dog.  However we're both shocked at how much we've paid (and continue to pay) to fund our own degrees. We're also shocked at how much more our younger family members (who are only 5-10 years younger than us) are planning on taking in loans to attend college for the first time. Tuition costs have risen 20% since I graduated college the first time 8 years ago.  Don't even get me started on the rising costs of housing and food and how those may be impacting room and board charges at the local university.  So, these days, we leave college with a boatload of loans, a small amount of consumer debt, and possibly no job- unless you choose your major well.  It's very frustrating.  DH and I wonder if this is why so many people our age can't get ahead and just take a leap buying things they can't afford (houses, cars, designer duds).</p>
<p>I think it's extremely important today to be clear about one's career goals before pursuing expensive academic degrees.  There are lots of free educational programs, cheap community college educations, and cheap vocational programs out there for those who are ambitious and interested in other fields.  I don't believe a formal education is a necessity for <em>every</em> 17 year old graduating high school these days and I do believe that 4 years is <strong>plenty of time</strong> to complete a degree.  If your kid is binge drinking and taking fluff classes on the "5 year plan" (spending 5 years to get a 4 year degree due to repeated changes of major, failure of classes, etc) you're really doing them a disservice to the tune of $30-40,000/year or more.  It would be wiser to allow kids to explore volunteer or work opportunities for a few years and then pursue education that has meaning and value to them.</p>
<p><strong>My Issues:</strong><br />
From there the wisdom of the book takes a sharp turn. Perhaps it's because DH and I are so gung-ho about saving that I couldn't stomach her advice.  But honestly, putting only 20% towards savings just doesn't sit well with me unless you've paid off your debts and have an emergency fund (3-6 months living expenses at least) on hand. </p>
<p>Also, one of the rules my husband and I set for our marriage was that we would always base expenses around the smaller income of the two.  If we were to lose our jobs, or become disabled, or get pregnant...we would not face uncertainty as to how we will survive.  She makes no distinction about how many incomes the family has (despite apparently being the author of another book encouraging women to stay home?) or how much house or car is too much.  Why doesn't this book address any of that?</p>
<p>What she promises is really over simplified financial planning. It's less painful to tell someone that they can spend 30% willy nilly on whatever they please than it is to tell them to cut it out and stop spending on junk that they don't need.  Why would you encourage someone to pay the debt off (while not saving a dime since their 20% savings might be entirely used in debt reduction) and to continue throwing 30% away every month on more junk???!</p>
<p>Sorry if I'm too harsh about this book. I may have honestly missed the point if it was sandwiched in between buying ding dongs and shoes while continuing to carry credit card debt... I just felt she really ignored the importance of having savings and not having debt before giving people permission to continue spending like drunken sailors.</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Tell me what you read...]]></title>
<link>http://podlerbookreviews.wordpress.com/?p=45</link>
<pubDate>Mon, 25 Aug 2008 01:19:18 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>podlerbookreviews</dc:creator>
<guid>http://podlerbookreviews.id.wordpress.com/2008/08/25/tell-me-what-you-read/</guid>
<description><![CDATA[What people are reading can tells us about what they are thinking, writes Philip Stone.
In America, ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>What people are reading can tells us about what they are thinking, <a href="http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/books/2008/08/how_bestsellers_chart_the_stat.html">writes </a>Philip Stone.</p>
<blockquote><p>In America, it seems, you've really got to be cultivating your "spiritual" side. Oprah Winfrey, for instance, wants you to buy Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose. And, based on sales, more than three million Americans are duly awakening. Meanwhile, William Young's self-published religious novel, The Shack, has sold almost a million copies this year, while pastors and preachers like Rick Warren, Joel Osteen, Joyce Meyer and Lee Strobel have all sold comfortably into five figures. Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir Eat, Pray Love has also done incredibly well publication - it has "pray" in the title - and for those not wanting to commit themselves to one religion, there's always Rhonda Byrne's The Secret.</p></blockquote>
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