Recently, I met a woman at my son's karate studio who was exhaling in great exasperation over her digital copy of Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. I asked what device she was using because it appeared to be a tablet. She said it was an Android-based one. When I asked about what she was reading, she explained that it was getting tiresome, but she liked to finish a book once she'd started it. I said life was too short and there were too many books to read and then took the opportunity to tell her that I had a novel. When she asked what it was about, I did my usual dance and said that it was dark. Before I could be more specific, she declared that she couldn't read anything really disturbing, citing The Lovely Bones as an example of a book that had been too difficult for her. 

I told her that The Lovely Bones was a pretty fair comparison for Saint Sebastian's Head. So her next question was: "What motivated you to write that?" before adding with a head shake, "I've got two daughters. I can't read stuff like that."

It was a karate studio and not the place for an in-depth explanation of even a part of the complexity that qualifies as "inspiration" when discussing any novel, let alone one that attempts to deal with serious issues. So I gave her the quick response that I thought would appeal to her, even though I told her that my book was probably not for her. What I told her was that I've always been strangely curious about people who survive horrible situations, like Elizabeth Smart and Jaycee Dugard. I said that I wanted to imagine that someone could go through something horrible like they did and come out okay on the other side, but that I'd have to also imagine what they went through.

She just shook her head. I understand. I have two daughters, too, and I flinched while writing much of Saint Sebastian's Head. But I wanted to write something that mattered, even if I found it difficult. It's the same response I had when my mother-in-law told me she couldn't watch Schindler's List because it was too disturbing. I get that, even moreso now that I have children and am so busy that easy reads call to me for sheer escapism. I get the desire. But I'm glad I watched Schindler's List. I'm glad I went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. I think it's important to remember the truly wicked things that people have done and continue to do to other people. I think it's necessary to look them head-on and acknowledge that they exist. 

 On 11/12/2011, I pledged to donate money from sales of Saint Sebastian's Head to the Heath Evans Foundation, which offers services and support to victims of child sex abuse, which is something that Weeble, the narrator, suffers from. Please share this post if you'd like to help -- and buy a copy of the book!

Book blogger Janie Hickock Siess has invited me to write a post for her site Colloquium before she reviews Saint Sebastian's Head tomorrow. In it, I explain the story of Saint Sebastian, glass art, and how it relates to the tale of a young woman coming to grips with survivor guilt.

The past can't be fled from forever. "Saint Sebastian's Head" is the story of Weeble, who, after finding everything she wanted out of life, is forced to face a childhood she never understood and the man who tried to destroy her life before it got started. A story of life and interpersonal and familial intrigue set in 1980s mid-western America, "Saint Sebastian's Head" is a thoughtful and riveting novel.

I've been thinking for a while that some readers are going to despise Saint Sebastian's Head. Such as this cheerful Goodreads reviewer of The Mermaid's Pendant:

I absolutely hated this book. I don't know why so many people gave it good reviews. It was so full of promiscuity and crude language it was hard to read. I only finished it because it was given as a gift upon my request. I really like the story of the Little Mermaid and this book ruined it for me. Needless to say my copy of this book is going in the trash. It isn't even worth donating to my local library.

So I thought I'd warn readers: if you don't like profanity (no, I don't think it's gratuitous) and you don't want to read about highly charged, uncomfortable situations, don't read Saint Sebastian's Head. It's chock full of blue language (that's the reality for the characters I've chosen to portray) and there are some situations that will make most people with any human feeling cringe.

Very happy to see that Saint Sebastian's Head can be pre-ordered now. Try Amazon or B&N.com (where it's discounted 32%). 

In Saint Sebastian's Head, glass artist Tom Paul creates sculptures based on St. Sebastian. Brazilian sculptor Ana Maria Pacheco's installation The Dark Night of the Soul inspired Tom Paul's work, but I had no idea how popular he was -- and is -- among artists. In researching St. Sebastian, I stuck mostly to a couple of sites and the story of his life and death. That seemed simple enough. But recently, I became aware that Sebastian has a long history. I ran across a post by Rebecca Dobrinski on her blog The Scribe and The Scrum about Sebastian as the patron of athletes. Ms. Dobinski talks about Sebastian's legend among Renaissance painters and later Victorians.

I'm rather glad I focused on the story of his martyrdom; it let me develop my own story without being conscious of how other artists saw Sebastian. It's rather humbling, though, to learn that he's been the subject of so many for so long and that I'm trying to become a part of that tradition.

At last, my new novel is almost ready for public consumption. I've turned in final edits (at least, I think they're final), a cover design has been approved, and the title has finally been signed off on. SAINT SEBASTIAN'S HEAD will be released for sale on November 1, 2011 -- an appropriate day since it's All Saint's Day. As a title, SAINT SEBASTIAN'S HEAD sounds quite gruesome, calling to mind dark medieval tortures, but the story itself is a contemporary psychological suspense about a young woman nicknamed Weeble. As her nickname suggests, Weeble is someone who manages to find her balance even when life's events try to knock her down. And I do mean she gets knocked around pretty hard.

SAINT SEBASTIAN'S HEAD was a terribly draining story to write, soul-crushing at times, in fact. I believe that we writers have our own stories to write, so I have to wonder why I felt called to write Weeble's. I guess giving Weeble an outlet for her story is one way I pay my dues for being so happy in my personal life. It's good to be reminded, even through fiction, about how blessed I truly am.

Friday, October 22
Interviewed at Pump Up Your Book
Book spotlighted at Virginia Beach Publishing Examiner 

Monday, October 25
Book reviewed at Colloquium

Tuesday, October 26
Interviewed at Blogcritics

Wednesday, October 27
Guest blogging at The Cajun Book Lady

Thursday, October 28
Book reviewed at The Cajun Book Lady

Friday, October 29
Book reviewed at Ohio Girl Talks

Monday, November 1
Book reviewed at Books and Things

Tuesday, November 2
Book reviewed at Edgy Inspirational Author

Wednesday, November 3
Book reviewed at Yzhabella’s Bookshelf

Thursday, November 4
Guest blogging at Yzhabella’s Bookshelf

Friday, November 5
Book reviewed at Down Under Views

Monday, November 8
Book reviewed at Sharon’s Garden of Book Reviews

Tuesday, November 9
Guest blogging at Diva’s Bookcase

Wednesday, November 10
Book reviewed at Diva’s Bookcase

Thursday, November 11
Book reviewed at Just Another Book Addict

Friday, November 12
Interviewed at Literarily Speaking
Book reviewed at Marta’s Meanderings

Monday, November 15
Book reviewed at The Fiction Enthusiast

Tuesday, November 16
Book reviewed at Ramblings of a Teenage Bookworm

Wednesday, November 17
Book reviewed at The Neverending Shelf
Guest blogging at Acting Balanced

Thursday, November 18
Book reviewed at You Have How Many Kids?
Book reviewed at Acting Balanced

Friday, November 19
Book reviewed at 2 Kids and Tired

Monday, November 22
Book reviewed by Book Reviews by Molly
Book reviewed by Sherri’s Jubilee

Maybe I should hire this Amazon reviewer as my PR person ... she really got the novel. 

5.0 out of 5 stars Captivating!, September 11, 2010

By  Mary A Flanagan - See all my reviews

Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)

This review is from: The Mermaid's Pendant (Paperback)

The Mermaid's Pendant is a captivating read from its start on a tiny Caribbean island to its conclusion in the more ordinary setting of coastal Massachusetts. Rich sensory images carry the reader through the early phases of the story as it unfolds in Culebra, Puerto Rico. The principal character, John, is initially dissatisfied with his surroundings but eventually succumbs to the magic of the island after he meets Tamarind, a mermaid who rescues him from near drowning. As the story progresses, John struggles with the conflicting forces of true love vs lust, ambition vs the expectations of others. The first part of the story is driven by its imagic charisma. Something important, however, is happening in the background. Without being aware of it, we are gradually drawn in by the characters. The strength of the character development and the reader's attachment to John and Tamarind sustain the second part of the book, where setting and imagery take second place to story. John and Tamarind struggle to maintain their faith and love for each other amidst the typical demands of married life, children, career challenges and the inevitable self-doubt that comes with age and the comfort of routine. In the end, a frightening event illuminates for both of them the fact that their love transcends all of these challenges. We are, in turn, challenged to find the same transcendence in our own relationships, however ordinary and familiar they may seem.

I'll be doing interviews and promoting The Mermaid's Pendant through Pump Up Your Book Promotion from October 22 to November 21. Stay tuned for more details or subscribe to the RSS Feed at Pump Up Your Books.

I'll be "touring" online in November with TLC Book Tours. I'm very excited to have this opportunity to interact with book reviewers and readers. I'll post the schedule when it's ready.

It’s a hot, torpid July 4^th, but there’s always work to do when it comes to promoting a novel. Not to mention that I haven’t written much on the new work-in-progress. My latest effort is recording myself reading a dramatic chapter from The Mermaid’s Pendant to post to GoodReads, Facebook and YouTube. And my own Web site, of course. Being videotaped ranks right up there with cleaning out the fridge and clipping the cat’s nails (kitty does not like having his nails clipped, thank you), but I won’t make it to many bookstores this year. Besides, this is the brave new world of being an author.

While the video downloads, I’ve been thinking about characters I’ve grown attached to lately on TV. Conflicted male characters to be exact.

It started with Greg House. Maybe it’s my natural admiration of wise-ass middle-aged scruffy men, but I kept finding enough redeeming qualities in House to want to watch the show beyond the medical mysteries facing his team. House had enough softness hidden under his prickly shell that my hope response kicked in (or maybe my subconscious desire to reform bad boys, which I thought I’d outgrown, simply revived from a dormant state). I want House to grow and heal enough to be happy. Is that possible with TV?

Then I moved on to watching Mad Men. This love affair took a little longer to establish. The first three episodes disturbed me more than many so-called horror shows. This time, Don Draper, silver-tongued ad man in a male-dominated early 60s New York, had little to attract me. I stuck with it if only because of the show’s atmosphere and a sick fascination with the culture. Then I had a real shock: Don had a hidden wife in the suburbs. The creepy factor for him rose about 50 notches, though his perfect wife’s calm target practice with the neighbor’s birds rounded the creepiness out nicely so that I no longer felt Don was quite so far gone. I finally understood that this world operated on different rules. A few more secrets revealed, and I realized that Don was a tormented soul with some hard-to-circumscribe boundary lines—for example, he didn’t sleep with any of the gaggle of secretaries at his ad agency—that nevertheless meant he did have some moral code, even if it was sporadically applied to his life. I came to identify a bit with him, with his upbringing and his double identity, and I wanted him to figure out how to hold on to his dreams without screwing them up too much.

Why are these two “complicated” men so compelling? Why doesn’t the angst they suffer overwhelm and repel us? They are both real and magnetic. Other people revolve around them. They make things happen. They’re hard to pin down—they aren’t a “type” and are as likely to disappoint as to inspire us. What we don’t know about them, what we learn adds depth and shading to them. We meet people like House and Don in books too. People we’d like to have a beer with. Or shake until they wise up. Or put an arm around and cry with. I’m always on the lookout for characters like these, and I never know where I’ll meet them. Middle grade, YA, adult—literary, romance, science fiction—I find them all over the place, but no place predictably.

I guess that's what I look for in most of the books I read: people to care about. Adventure and learning and falling in love again are all good things, but I really feel a part of humanity when I connect with someone, even if he's a character.

Last year, I came across this video by author Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creative "genius." I recommend it for anyone interested in creativity, especially writers, or for anyone who wouldn't mind a little insight into what goes through the minds of creative people at times.

I don't remember most of her talk, but I keep returning to the concept of "genius" that she mentions, one that the ancients and Renaissance artists understood and described. In the former connotation of this word, Ms. Gilbert reminds us, "genius" was akin to an external, mischievous spirit (hence the relationship to the word "genii"). In this sense, creativity was an uncontrollable and unpredictable gift that could be both blessing and tormentor. Yet, what a freeing concept! There was no such thing as "writer's block" or "inspiration" as we think of it today -- that is, something to agonize and wrestle with until you get it to do your bidding with the attendant sense of failure when you can't. If your "genius" didn't visit, she didn't visit. Not really your fault. 

Lately, I've been thinking about this concept when considering the plethora of books and accomplished writers that exist in the world. No matter what I write, I'm always going to feel humbled at the literal genius I experience when I read many authors. Humble and grateful that my own "genii" deigns to visit me on occasion, as long as I put out the welcome mat. Snacks are good too. And some music. My "genii" is demanding.

It occurred to me yesterday that I could borrow from Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy in thinking about this unpredictable and powerful creature. I'm not comfortable with considering that my soul lives outside my body as they do for the humans in that trilogy (he calls them "daemons"), but I love the idea of having a creative spirit in animal form walking, loping, or flying beside me. I also love the idea of that animal being highly mutable, changing form along with its fickle creative impulses. Yet if I follow the analogy, I suppose my "daemon" has settled into final form even if I don't know what animal it is. 

I rather suspect my "daemon" or "genii" is more like Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus than an animal. Devilishly tricky and likely to leave me in the lurch, laughing the whole time.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been posting challenges to a group that I have on GoodReads. Anyone who posts an answer to the challenge is entered into a giveaway for a signed copy of my novel.

It’s been fun and challenging for me. What do you ask potential readers to contribute besides their names? Something that engages and interests them, of course. And something that I’d like to talk about, too.

One thing that I’m thinking about asking my group is to describe a book that they’ve read and didn’t like but thought merited reading anyway. I try to read well-written books that challenge me in some way, whether in viewpoint or stylistically or in language or plot, so I use the rating system at GoodReads inconsistently—I rate books on liking as well as what I think their literary merits are (and I rate them either on whether I like them, whether I think they have literary merit, or both). I’d really prefer to have a few different rating categories for books, although maybe my skill at distinguishing literary merit should also be rated to be fair to anyone looking at my ratings. After all, I’m certainly not the best read or the most astute reader. And my reviewing vocabulary is rather limited since I didn’t major in literature.

Just today I read a review on GoodReads from a reader who gave The Kite Runner three stars (which means “I liked it”) when she really just found it “okay” by her own admission (two stars is “okay”). However, maybe she had trouble with the limitations of the rating system and that’s why she chose three stars. After all she thought

“[T]he author did a wonderful job writing the book -- but for me -- it was just too too depressing and I can't get into a book where I don't ever like the main character.”

Separating out “liking” from “compelling” in a story helps to make ratings and reviews more useful. If a sensitive reader can admit that a main character didn’t appeal to her but that other readers might connect with that character to the point of liking that would serve a better purpose than opaque star ratings. Then perhaps that same sensitive reader can begin to appreciate that not every great character can be made “likable.” Iago is a tremendously compelling villain (and I would argue that he’s the main character regardless of the play having Othello’s name), but he’s not at all likable.

Should we always read stories that we like or should we sometimes read stories that push our boundaries a bit? One of the best ways that advertising works is actually through negative association because we remember something that annoys or angers us rather than something that is mildly amusing or entertaining. Stories can work that way, too, if they have other necessary elements that are well executed. While I think that it is the author’s job to help readers identify with the main character as far as recognizing that character’s humanity, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to expect stories to just be fictional extensions of ourselves. Stories can act as personal adventures for us, and as such we tend to identify strongly with the main character. But they can also enlarge our understanding of the world and others, and that’s only possible if we’re willing to try to see through someone else’s eyes, even when we don’t like them.

Don’t get me wrong. When I’m tired or stressed, I tend to read stories that aren’t uncomfortable or challenging for me with characters I like and outcomes I want. My children do this, too. The 12-year-old just checked out a very short chapter book suitable for a first grader because she remembered the pleasure it gave her years ago. What would be a problem for me is if she never strained to read a book that a 15-year-old might read, even if she didn’t like it, or attempt to read more adult material that she couldn’t understand.

Instead of writing my next novel, I'm procrastinating by doing something necessary to my career: promoting my debut novel. 

Of course, I knew that this day would come. I've read plenty of blogs from authors who talk about the juggling act that they undertook once they had one book published but needed to work on the next one. This is where the fairy tale I had in my head meets the happily-ever-after of reality. Publishing is a business after all.

I usually try to conjure up an image of Shakespeare, a known astute businessman and the greatest dramatist in the English language. Even if I allow for his undisputed talents, I must admit that he had a lot more to juggle when it came to promoting his work. He also owned part of his acting company and the theaters where his plays were performed -- so he partly ran the business, all while acting in his own plays. 

For Shakespeare, all of these other jobs fed his playwriting. Being an actor really grounded him about what people wanted to see and gave him a feel for the language, pacing, and action that worked. He was really committed to the success of his plays and ended up retiring very well off. 

I haven't figured out yet how my other jobs will feed into my novel writing, though ....

I've been under the weather a lot in the past couple of weeks -- not really sick, but tired and feeling achy and unable to focus on much beyond the basics (with three kids, that seems to be a lot to focus on). I discovered last fall that one way I can deal with a hectic schedule or feeling unwell is to read romance novels. They're like that easily digestible diet parents feed children whose systems can't handle a regular diet: bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast, known as the B.R.A.T. diet. Romance novels, no matter what the twists and turns, soothe me with their hopefulness, their belief in love and the triumph over adversity, and their lack of moral ambiguity. Even their predictability and reading level soothes me. I prefer historical settings and adventure, probably because I like horses and sea travel. Or maybe because of an idealized sense of chivalry.

Yesterday I held my first reading and signing -- an event that I anticipated nervously but it went off splendidly and now I'm beginning to hope that I might actually enjoy these kinds of things! I've read a few other authors' accounts of readings,  mostly complaints at how sparsely attended they are and how many would-be novelists populate the crowd, but only once have I read a story about the people who make time to meet an author and listen to her read her book. There were some truly lovely people at my first reading. People from church, old friends who have supported me for years, newer friends who seem just as fiercely loyal, and the strangers who came by because they support local arts or their favorite bookstore. The lady who drove half an hour to meet me because we're both from Missouri impressed herself on my memory of the event but probably not as much as the father who brought his 8-year-old daughter to meet a novelist because she wants to be a writer when she grows up someday. That one I won't forget because I hadn't anticipated that anyone would think my novel was for children, despite its fairy-tale antecedents. As I signed her copy, I asked the father, "You do know this is an adult novel? I haven't read it to my own children." Here my gaze wandered to my 14 year old.  What I wished I could say was "there is profanity and sex and adult situations." What I also considered saying to the girl was "don't grow up wanting to write books; publishing is so uncertain and who knows who will read books when you're old enough to write them?" But I didn't. I told her to hold onto her dreams and to keep working to achieve them.

There are numerous stories about how mermaids walk on land. One story from the Orkney Islands tells how mermaids disguise themselves as seals when in the sea but that they take off their seal skins on land. In this story, The Mermaid Wife, a fisherman discovers a group of mermaids on a beach. All the mermaids grab their seal skins and dive into the water except for one unlucky mermaid. The fisherman grabs her seal skin and forces her to stay on land and marry him! He hides the skin, but many years later, one of their children finds it and brings it to her. The mermaid, who'd never stopped longing for the sea, immediately races back and puts the skin on, leaving her family behind forever.

A French fairy tale tells the story of Melusine, a freshwater mermaid whose fish tail reappears every Saturday. Melusine keeps this secret from her husband for years, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he spies on her in the bath. She flies into a rage and leaves him and their children.

Notice a theme here? No matter how long or why a mermaid walks on land, the urge to return to the sea remains strong in her.

The most famous story of how a mermaid gets the ability to walk on land is from The Little Mermaid (although Disney changed it significantly). In this story, the mermaid pays for her legs with her beautiful voice. Even so, every time she walks it feels like walking on knives. Worse, she can't stay human indefinitely. If the man she loves falls in love with someone else, she'll die and become sea foam the morning after he gets married. When The Little Mermaid gets the chance to return to the sea by killing him, however, she refuses. Because of this, heaven takes pity on her and makes her a daughter of the air where she can do good deeds and earn a soul.

In my version, the mermaid learns from an old woman that she can appear to walk on land. She can only do this for a few minutes and as long as she's near water. However, when she falls in love with a man, she asks the old woman to help her put off her tail for a chance to spend more time with him. The old woman warns her that the transformation is dangerous, uncertain, and only lasts for the rainy season. If my mermaid consummates her love with him, she can keep her legs.

The Mermaid's Pendant is now available for purchase on Amazon's Kindle!

It's quite exciting knowing that my book is out there for the world to read and, I hope, enjoy.

Morris Bishop's highly readable survey of The Middle Ages condenses a thousand years of history often dismissed for its darkness, violence, and superstition and incorrectly portrayed as an unfortunate chasm between the glory of ancient times and the Renaissance that drew on a renewed interest in the classics. 

Bishop's survey, unlike Asimov's histories, covers the period thematically rather than chronologically. For a span of time that includes the Dark Ages when much of what was written was either lost or barely preserved, this approach works rather well. Ten chapters cover familiar medieval topics such as Knights in Battle, The Noble's Life, An Age of Faith, and The Artists' Legacy. Less familiar topics (to me, anyway) included Towns and Trade, The Life of Labor, and The Life of Thought. 

Perhaps some of the most surprising history of the Middle Ages is the development of capitalism and commerce and the rise of towns, which greatly promoted the common welfare, including the privilege of self-government purchased from money-strapped nobles. Trade guilds are early unions. Towns offered freedom to serfs in exchange for their employment. 

Bishop declares that the Middle Ages ended by bequeathing modern times more than it had received itself, a rather astonishing claim unless the reader allows for his others: that the Middle Ages accomplished much in terms of art, architecture, literature, learning, and wisdom. 

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Caveat: I didn't finish this anthology. However, despite my unstated personal standard of only reviewing books that I've finished, I've decided to make an exception for Van Den Heuvel's haiku collection.

Many of the western haiku in this collection are written more in keeping with the spirit of the Japanese poetry that inspired them than in the form taught traditionally in the West. In my previous reading of the art form, I learned that the Japanese haiku are written using seventeen word sounds which Western poets have adapted as syllables; however, this isn't strictly true. So there is more flexibility in composing haiku than most of us have been taught as schoolchildren. In addition, Japanese haiku are written as a single line, which can aid in painting an image (and perfect for Twitter, as I've found). The key ingredients: an allusion to the seasons and a contrast or comparison between two images, one often based in Nature, the other on humanity.

Knowing this, I found the haiku in Van Den Heuvel's work often beautiful and haunting -- and an ideal collection to dip into for the briefest meditation during busy days.

A friend emailed an article about B. Dalton closing the only bookstore in Laredo, Texas, one of the largest cities in the U.S. at 250,000. Here's my email to him:

Scott responded to this development with "buy books online at Amazon." So we talked about why bookstores are good (for browsing) but for some of us not as important as the library. A large city without a library is a tragedy. And what is a library going to be in the future now that Amazon and the Internet are here? Boston's Cushing Academy apparently has decided to no longer acquire or "service" books; everything will be online. The Cushing decision is mentioned in this article on the future of reading in the Duke Magazine titled "The End of Civilization as We Know It?" Very interesting discussion. I tend to worry as the novelist does. I like to see the physicality of books on shelves and to respect the work of authorship. Collective authorship, as Wikipedia and other initiatives rely upon, has its drawbacks. I also worry about literacy, as defined by the Duke English professor. She sounded cautiously optimistic that "professional readers" will always be necessary, but I asked Scott why professional reading ability and "Internet savvy" have to be mutually exclusive, and I fear that either people will ignorantly make them exclusive by not promoting the type of reading she mentions or callously dismiss the importance of professional reading.

I have a personal stake in this, obviously. While I wait for responses from traditional gatekeepers to publishing (it's been three months since I submitted 50 pages to two literary agents and three weeks since I queried a new set of agents), I ponder the revolution underway in how and what people read and how they choose what they read. The old questions from agents and publishers have been: who is your reader for this novel? where would this novel be shelved? While traditional publishing is still operating, and in my opinion still the best way to succeed as a novelist, I find myself wondering if the chaotic publishing scene is one of opportunity for those who have the wherewithal and the savvy to act (and I don't know whether I have either). Is the digital revolution in reading an opportunity or a demise? Can I publish myself and be read or will I just get lost in the deluge? Will traditional editors even matter to a less-literate reading population that doesn't buy books?

An old grad school friend who recently found me on Facebook (which I joined because novelists are supposed to be social-media literate) confessed to me that he hasn't read more than a few pages, and none "linearly" in years. He buys books (good for those selling books) and dips into them to sample their language, but he doesn't really care about the narrative arc or the totality of the story. This astounds and terrifies me. He's highly literate and cares about language, but he's the reason that cell phone "novels" are being written (they are very popular in Japan). No one wants to spend time on an extended story (see the comment in the Duke article by the Time book reviewer, Lev Grossman, about literary instant gratification).

In the future, I worry that not only will "professional reading" as defined by the Duke professor be a dying art, but that the kind of writing necessary for a novel or even a complex piece of non-fiction will be impossible if the cognitive skills necessary for them are traded for those developed and strengthened by surfing the Net. I fear that we are moving to a world where the diagnosis of ADHD will disappear because the "normal" population will lack the ability to focus on more than a few sentences at a time, making coherent and extended arguments impossible. Then again, maybe the average person has never had much ability to do so and maybe serial and oral storytelling will make a comeback. As I read A Thousand and One Nights, I envision that these short tales are perfect for our modern sensibilities. Yet the overriding framework, the guidance of a master storyteller who creates a meta-story that synthesizes and shapes a narrative, is absent.

After reading a friend's status update on Facebook, I am inspired to try to write a haiku a day for the next year. I love haiku, even if I have been mired down in the overly simplistic 5-7-5 rhyme scheme taught to American elementary school children. I don't have the stamina, skill, or personality to master poetry, but I envision that I just might learn to write haiku that, taken over the course of a year, encapsulate my life in fleeting, vivid imagery. Like poignant snapshots in words, if I'm at all successful. I'm looking forward to this little challenge that I've set myself. Let's see whether a short line of poetry is more than I can manage daily ....