August 15, 2024

O.k., ladies and gentlemen, today we roll out the big boys (and girls). How appropriate that I find them in a Bankers Box, given that these fat cats have been able to pad their bank accounts with their writing. Most of mine in this box are softbacks and may have been purchased used, which at one time I thought was a steal, until I published "It's All Academic." Then the used book trade all of a sudden seemed a tad unfair.

Mind you, there are still some unknown gems in this box. One of these is NOT Tami Hoag's "Night Sins" (the only cheap mystery in the box). I hate calling out specific authors in this blog, but until today, I thought "Night Sins" was the only book I had ever thrown directly in the trash, mostly because it is the first in a series of two, and yet nowhere on the book cover or informational material was that told to me.  So, my defiance came when I got to the last page to discover I would need to read "Guilty As Sin." That never happened, but I guess I never threw the book out. I'd like to say I stuck it in a box where it didn't belong, but a quick search shows Ms. Hoag having published at least 40 books (judging from Wikipedia), so this is the right box for her, as she, along with the following, can chuckle about my angst all the way to her bank.

This box belongs to best-selling authors whose books are all over this box: Stephen King ("Cujo" and "The Eyes Of The Dragon"), Larry McMurtry ("Streets of Laredo"), Alex Haley ("Roots"), Pat Conroy ("Beach Music"), Fannie Flagg ("Welcome To The World, Baby Girl"), Marian Zimmer Bradley ("The Mists Of Avalon"), Umberto Eco ("Travels in Hyper Reality"), Jonathan Franzen ("The Corrections"), Scott Turow ("The Burden Of Proof") and A.S. Byatt ("The Game"). I know I am going to find more by almost all of these authors in other boxes. Why haven't I used more organization to keep them together? "Foucault's Pendulum" belongs nowhere but besides "Travels In Hyper Reality" or "Name Of The Rose" (wherever I may find it). Many of these unearthed Kings are duplicates (both Pix and I were into early Stephen King before finding each other): how did that not end up a more coordinated purge of these extra copies? Bradley's "Avalon" series must lie somewhere throughout the rest of these boxes, even if the ones written after Bradley's death.

What possesses a person to run out and buy the latest from a well-established author? Not to take away from any of these writers, but the truth is that once they have a track record, one will be able to find a copy of their latest in used book stores and libraries all over the world. Why race to "own" "Beach Music," especially in hard cover? I know in our cases, such books often come as presents, so I can't begrudge that. Still it seems similar to how the New York Yankees can keep paying for the best free agents because of the value of their brand. I know I sound bitter, and probably am as both a Pittsburgh Pirates' fan and the author of "It's All Academic," but sometimes the marketplace is a depressing shared spaced. With billions of books out there (a pure estimate, I have not done the research on this one), why are millions of copies of "Cujo" sold?

As I said, though, the box provided a few unknown gems. Kim Chernin's "In My Mother's House" is another fantastic surprise from the "autobiographical literature" seminar at Indiana University. Chernin's book is a wonderful memoir about Russian immigrant women (and even women, in general). Chernin's canon (and impact) range all over the place, with several memoirs, collections of poetry, fiction, and feminist-bent non-fiction. Yet she still checks in with less than half of Hoag's output. There is no justice in the publishing world.

And then somehow, in ways not even fathomable to imagine, Charles Brockden Brown's "Wieland" is tucked in this box. If you don't know "Wieland," get in line. Let's just say that this Wieland makes Scott Wieland of Stone Temple Pilots appear completely untroubled.

Full title of "Wieland, Or The Transformation: An American Tale," Brown's book is a 1798 classic of gothic literature. It is, as the kids say, "a hoot" (although sadly the kids probably don't say that anymore). Let's just say that a character spontaneously combusts, beating This Is Spinal Tap to that punchline by about 200 years. Spirits and ghosts may simply be the product of a really good, creepy, ventriloquist hanging around. Brown condemns religious fanaticism pretty blatantly through the book, suggesting that perhaps a reprint is due in 2024. Like Chernin's book, Brown's provides warm memories of graduate school days at IU, my friend Joe and I cackling throughout our first reading of "Wieland."

Brown published nine novels while alive, putting him somewhat behind the rest of the crowd in this box. I see now that he left an unfinished novel about his creepy ventriloquist in "Wieland." In the spirit of "shared authorial completion," as being done by James Patterson for Michael Crichton's "Eruption," I would like to volunteer to complete this "Memoirs of Carwin The Biloquist." Could someone send me the original document?

Full series here.