music

Who says a beach read has to be trashy? No such thing, say I! I spent Sunday afternoon at Lake Michigan and, since the water was closed due to bad rip currents, lay on the beach reading Love & Lies: Marisol's Story, Ellen Wittlinger's latest.

If you've read Wittlinger's Printz Honor-winning Hard Love, you've met zine writer Marisol Guzman. If not, you're about to. Marisol is eighteen years old, smart, gutsy, and gay, and she doesn't care who knows it. She's taking a gap year in Cambridge, Mass, to (mostly) make her own way in the world while writing her first novel.

When she shows up for Day One of her novel-writing course, two surprises await her. First, old friend Gio/John, who had a horrible crush on her last year, is in the class. (Awkward...) Second, the teacher, Olivia Frost, is drop-dead gorgeous, overflows with writerly wisdom, and thinks Marisol is a real talent! And that crush Marisol has on her just might be requited...

Thrilled to be in her first real relationship, Marisol can't see what her friends—and the book's readers—do almost immediately: that Olivia is not the gem Marisol thinks she is. It's wrenching to see the usually confident (possibly a little conceited) Marisol crumble under Olivia's manipulative thumb, and more than one relationship will be destroyed before things look up. But Wittlinger's well-developed characters and realism delve neither into melodrama nor easy solutions. It's good, solid writing in a good, solid story.

If you've read other books by Ellen Wittlinger, you won't have escaped the references to various folk musicians (e.g., Dar Williams) her characters love. In Love & Lies, it's Girlyman that gets the nod on page 80, which tickled me to no end for reasons explained here.

Love & Lies was reviewed (more spoilerifically) at Big A little a and Worth the Trip. Wittlinger was also recently interviewed by the Class of 2K8 about her experience as a Printz Honor winner.

Now, to go back and reread Hard Love...

The lovely back-up singers of Chameleon
World, indie band extraordinaire

Recently it occurred to me there is more dignity in self-publishing an album than a book. Then it occurred to me I ought to have some reasons to back up that opinion. So, here goes.

In self-publishing, there’s no real quality control except by the musical artist or writer. One could assume that, as a result, all self-published works are at best mediocre. And it’s true, I’ve heard a lot of mediocre indie albums. But I’ve also heard many indie albums that are absolutely brilliant, and indie albums comprise a significant portion of my CD collection.

In contrast, I’ve never seen a brilliant self-published book. I’ve read some that were okay, but most of them have been just terrible. (Have you heard about My Beautiful Mommy, a new self-published picture book that explains to kids why Mom’s getting a tummy tuck?* Thanks for the link, Big A little a.) I do feel that self-publishing has an important role, especially when it comes to books on topics trade publishers don’t usually touch. But trade-quality editing and art is rarely there.

Why the schism?

My impression is it’s much harder for musicians to get signed by a competitive label than it is for writers to contract with competitive trade publishers. I haven’t been able to find hard data, but my impression is that many more books than albums are published each year. If this is true, and if we assume that those musicians and writers who don’t find a competitive publisher for their work go on to self-publish, then it stands to reason a greater proportion of indie musicians than self-published authors are actually halfway decent. Even superb.

And due to the nature of the business, indie musicians gain credibility in other ways. Most musicians’ careers are built not on albums but on performances. Before a band records an album, it’s gaining fans through performances at home and on tour. After the album’s out, it’s back to the road. The musicians must prove their mettle night after night, not on a single shiny disc.

Of course, authors frequently promote their books by touring, also. And in the rare case of Christopher Paolini, touring with his self-published Eragon—while dressed in medieval garb, I might add—is what attracted the attention of Knopf. But the book must come first. Musicians can tour without an album, but an author cannot tour without a book. The book is the pudding where the proof is.

Another way indie musicians beat self-published authors in credibility is through distribution. The Internet is a reasonably level playing field when it comes to producing and distributing self-published books and music. Artists and writers can sell their work on their personal websites and small retailers, of course, but also through major online retailers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble. (Though musicians can also distribute through iTunes, eMusic, and other music-oriented services.)

Offline, however, I think independent musicians hold the advantage. There are companies, such as KOCH, that handle music distribution to get indie bands’ CDs into big retailers across the country. If there’s an equivalent meat-space book service, I don’t know it.

Then, also, there’s a real WYSIWYG element to the music business. Audiences can reasonably expect that band’s live performance is indicative of its recordings, and vice versa. You can expect no such thing in the book business. A book is not a performance piece. Many authors are dynamic and engaging presenters; others are abysmal.

Conversely, we know today’s surfeit of “celebrity authors” rarely delivers when it comes to producing a good book. (A few notable exceptions: Julie Edwards/Andrews, Jamie Lee Curtis, Steve Martin, Michael Palin.) Anyone else a little scared of the new Snoop Dogg series for kids, “Where’s the Cheese”? (Thanks for the link, LISNews.)

As I mentioned, these are all just my personal impressions. I would love some additional perspective on the differences and similarities between independent music and self-published books.

ETA, 4/17/08
*For the record, I'm not opposed to cosmetic surgery. I generally believe that people should pursue happiness in their own way, so long as they are not hurting other people or the planet (not that we can ever avoid that 100%). But based on what I've read here about My Beautiful Mommy, I'm rather alarmed at the message it seems to send to young children (a certain idea of what it means to be beautiful, surgery as a desirable means to achieving happiness, etc.). Then again, the modeling industry already does the same thing, right?

I've fallen behind in the Kidlitosphere lately, both reading and posting-wise. I chalk it up to the season, in large part; I've been trying really hard to be nice to myself and not stress out about things like, say, keeping up with the blog. Here are some things I've been enjoying that have nothing to do with the Internet:

• Vegan cooking - I'm enjoying Isa Chandra Moskowitz's cookbook Vegan with a Vengeance: Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-Free Recipes That Rock. So far, so good! We've been using her seitan recipe for some time now, and over the past few weeks we've also tried the scrambled tofu, biscuits with sausage gravy (one of my favorite foods ever, from my meat-eating days), and onion miso soup. I'm planning to make the chocolate raspberry cake for my dad's birthday. If you've ever thought about reducing your dairy/egg/meat intake, take a look. Vegan with a Vengeance is a far cry from scary nut-and-twig vegan recipes from days of yore.
• Watching Doctor Who - When I put the "complete first series" of Doctor Who on hold at the library, I was expecting an assortment of kitschy episodes from 40 years ago. Somehow I completely missed that the BBC revived the series in 2005, and HOO BABY is it good! It's well-written, with terrific acting and quite respectable special effects. If you were a fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation or The X-Files, you'll probably enjoy it. And maybe even fall a little bit in love with Christopher Eccleston's Ninth Doctor. Like maybe I did. Hypothetically speaking.
• Listening to New (To Me) Music - Iron & Wine and Calexico's joint effort In the Reins is seep-into-the-consciousness-and-take-up-residence music. It's so very mellow and pretty, it pretty much perfectly mirrors these snowy February mornings. I'll be using it as mood music for one of my writing projects I plan to return to once I finish this revision of another (slog, slog, slog). Some other new-to-me albums getting a lot of play: the New Pornographers' Challengers, the Finches' Human Like a House, and the Magnetic Fields' I.

And I'll be back soon with that post about unusual character names. Pinky swear.