E-classics
This story ("If you can read a five-minute e-mail, you can read "War and Peace" -- in 675 installments e-mailed from DailyLit.com.") strikes me as the sort of thing that could bounce endlessly around the Web, because it'll prompt some strong reactions.
Here's one I've heard already: "I'm tempted to re-read 'War and Peace' right now just for spite."
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Here's one I've heard already: "I'm tempted to re-read 'War and Peace' right now just for spite."
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
John Clayton contemplates great storytelling
To me the big news in last week's New York Times story "This is your life (and how you tell it)" was not so much the power of storytelling, as in:
For years I've centered my professional life on that notion: whether it's a book, essay, or hi-tech white paper, I want to try to tell a story.
No, what I found interesting was the studies suggesting that relating your stories in the third person can be more emotionally healthy than doing so in the first person. In other words:
Think of all those people you've mocked for talking about themselves in the third person. (Sports stars do it a lot -- I remember the Wade Boggs mockery in the 1980s.) Turns out they may be particularly psychologically well-adjusted.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
People tend to remember facts more accurately if they encounter them in a story rather than in a list, studies find; and they rate legal arguments as more convincing when built into narrative tales rather than on legal precedent.
For years I've centered my professional life on that notion: whether it's a book, essay, or hi-tech white paper, I want to try to tell a story.
No, what I found interesting was the studies suggesting that relating your stories in the third person can be more emotionally healthy than doing so in the first person. In other words:
The third-person perspective allowed people to reflect on the meaning of their social miscues, the authors suggest, and thus to perceive more psychological growth... Seeing oneself as acting in a movie or a play is not merely fantasy or indulgence; it is fundamental to how people work out who it is they are, and may become.
Think of all those people you've mocked for talking about themselves in the third person. (Sports stars do it a lot -- I remember the Wade Boggs mockery in the 1980s.) Turns out they may be particularly psychologically well-adjusted.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Cowgirl U
I didn't really know what to expect from last Friday's event at Cowgirl University, the marketplace at the Paws Up resort in Greenough. But it turned out a simply delightful time. Lots of nice folks, several of whom bought books. The picture is, obviously, of me at the "Cowboy Girl" booth.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Televised in Helena
If you live in Helena, Montana, and missed my talk at the Montana Historical Society on May 12. . . I don't really blame you. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and mid-70s. And it turns out you won't have really missed me anyway, because the great folks at Helena Civic TV will be broadcasting that talk this Friday, May 25, at noon. (It'll likely be rebroadcast at other times, too, but this is when they know it will play.)
Meanwhile, if you're in Lander, Cheyenne, or Laramie, here's my schedule for how you can see me in person. (Weather permitting).
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Meanwhile, if you're in Lander, Cheyenne, or Laramie, here's my schedule for how you can see me in person. (Weather permitting).
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Heroes in Three Cups
Plenty has been written about the heroism of Greg Mortenson, the mountaineer-turned-humanitarian who has founded 58 schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan that have provided education to about 24,000 children, 14,000 of them girls. I'm not here to deny any of it. I too was deeply impressed by Mortenson's book "Three Cups of Tea," and highly recommend it.
But I would also like to speak up for an additional hero, an unsung one: David Oliver Relin, Mortenson's co-author on the book. To my mind he did a thankless job in a stunningly effective way.
Relin made some unusual choices. He served as a sort of ghostwriter, but not in the typical way of writing Mortenson's memoir for him. Nor did he write his own memoir of how he learned about Mortenson. He simply told the story, from beginning to end.
He also made some subtly brilliant choices in structuring that story. After a slightly awkward preface trying to define his role, Relin started, obviously, with Mortenson's wayward descent of K2 that first brought him in contact with remote Pakistanis. But Relin structured that anecdote not in the simple terms of "starving mountaineer" and "generous villagers" but with Mortenson's own inner spiritual needs, needs that could best be fulfilled by helping people.
That's important because otherwise it would be difficult to end the book. An obvious end to Mortenson's story would be when he completed his first school, thus completing his obligation to those first villagers. Unfortunately such an ending would ignore 57 other schools. So another potential ending would be Mortenson's retirement -- also unacceptable because it may be dozens of years in the future.
By focusing on the spiritual rewards that Mortenson gains from the journey, Relin is able to conclude the book with a beautiful passage of Mortenson engaging in a new journey. That humble but powerful ending is not only appropriate to what Relin has shown us of Mortenson's character, but lets readers like me walk away from the book feeling deeply moved.
I'm always interested in feedback, below or via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
But I would also like to speak up for an additional hero, an unsung one: David Oliver Relin, Mortenson's co-author on the book. To my mind he did a thankless job in a stunningly effective way.
Relin made some unusual choices. He served as a sort of ghostwriter, but not in the typical way of writing Mortenson's memoir for him. Nor did he write his own memoir of how he learned about Mortenson. He simply told the story, from beginning to end.
He also made some subtly brilliant choices in structuring that story. After a slightly awkward preface trying to define his role, Relin started, obviously, with Mortenson's wayward descent of K2 that first brought him in contact with remote Pakistanis. But Relin structured that anecdote not in the simple terms of "starving mountaineer" and "generous villagers" but with Mortenson's own inner spiritual needs, needs that could best be fulfilled by helping people.
That's important because otherwise it would be difficult to end the book. An obvious end to Mortenson's story would be when he completed his first school, thus completing his obligation to those first villagers. Unfortunately such an ending would ignore 57 other schools. So another potential ending would be Mortenson's retirement -- also unacceptable because it may be dozens of years in the future.
By focusing on the spiritual rewards that Mortenson gains from the journey, Relin is able to conclude the book with a beautiful passage of Mortenson engaging in a new journey. That humble but powerful ending is not only appropriate to what Relin has shown us of Mortenson's character, but lets readers like me walk away from the book feeling deeply moved.
I'm always interested in feedback, below or via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Tour updates
Check my 30Boxes badge, in the left column here, for recent updates to the book tour. We've added an additional bookstore in Helena this coming Saturday, plus two additional visits to Bozeman, in addition to tomorrow, I'll also be there May 19 and 31. I'll be at the Cheyenne YMCA Writer's Voice on Wednesday evening May 23 and various venues in Laramie May 24-25. We're also working on Billings for early June.
Perhaps the most unusual appearance I'm making is at Cowgirl Marketplace on May 18. It's a component of Cowgirl University, taking place in Greenough, MT, and run in part by the National Cowgirl Museum. I don't really know much more about the event than that, except for the Marketplace's slogan: "Annie, forget your gun, get your purse! … we're goin' shoppin'"
Annie, maybe I'll see you there.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Perhaps the most unusual appearance I'm making is at Cowgirl Marketplace on May 18. It's a component of Cowgirl University, taking place in Greenough, MT, and run in part by the National Cowgirl Museum. I don't really know much more about the event than that, except for the Marketplace's slogan: "Annie, forget your gun, get your purse! … we're goin' shoppin'"
Annie, maybe I'll see you there.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Regulating huckleberries
There's something very funny about the word " huckleberry," and I chuckled appropriately through USA Today's discussion of the new Montana law making it a misdemeanor to label a product "huckleberry" if it contains any other fruit, like maybe blueberries.
But I actually thought the story was more important than its jocular tone suggested.
First, because laws about labeling are valuable. When you own something unique, you don't want imitators diluting your strength. Some people roll their eyes at the notion that "champagne" can't come from anywhere except a certain region of France, but it sure makes a difference to the folks who produce that fine substance. American agriculturalists have spent too long running the other way, embracing any method of producing commodities more cheaply. But the way to make money is to identify your product as not-a-commodity. I'm glad huckleberry producers are protecting their brand.
Second, and in slight opposition to that sentiment, I'm amazed that the picking of wild huckleberries (the darned things won't grow on a farm) is an industry big and organized enough to protect itself this way. And I'm a little bit sad. As I wrote three years ago about the picking of wild mushrooms, there's something wonderfully romantic about manually harvesting mountain treasures. Feels like the frontier.
And every passing of a frontier -- of which, I would argue, huckleberry regulation is a prime example -- deserves its own tiny moment of regret.
I'm always interested in feedback, via comments or info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
But I actually thought the story was more important than its jocular tone suggested.
First, because laws about labeling are valuable. When you own something unique, you don't want imitators diluting your strength. Some people roll their eyes at the notion that "champagne" can't come from anywhere except a certain region of France, but it sure makes a difference to the folks who produce that fine substance. American agriculturalists have spent too long running the other way, embracing any method of producing commodities more cheaply. But the way to make money is to identify your product as not-a-commodity. I'm glad huckleberry producers are protecting their brand.
Second, and in slight opposition to that sentiment, I'm amazed that the picking of wild huckleberries (the darned things won't grow on a farm) is an industry big and organized enough to protect itself this way. And I'm a little bit sad. As I wrote three years ago about the picking of wild mushrooms, there's something wonderfully romantic about manually harvesting mountain treasures. Feels like the frontier.
And every passing of a frontier -- of which, I would argue, huckleberry regulation is a prime example -- deserves its own tiny moment of regret.
I'm always interested in feedback, via comments or info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
The Last Crossing
I was delighted to again be part of the selection process for this year's One Book Montana: Guy Vanderhaeghe’s "The Last Crossing."
Our discussion was actually easier than it had been in past years, because the committee's membership was unchanged, so we could pick up where we left off. "The Last Crossing" had been previously nominated, and in the interim more of us had had a chance to read it. I believe it was a unanimous choice.
"The Last Crossing" is a big, rich, old-fashioned novel, with lots of varying themes and settings. So different people will like different things about it. My own take, as I wrote here, was that Vanderhaeghe reintroduced me to "the novelist's gift[:] to see key struggles of our own time in fully-realized other worlds."
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Our discussion was actually easier than it had been in past years, because the committee's membership was unchanged, so we could pick up where we left off. "The Last Crossing" had been previously nominated, and in the interim more of us had had a chance to read it. I believe it was a unanimous choice.
"The Last Crossing" is a big, rich, old-fashioned novel, with lots of varying themes and settings. So different people will like different things about it. My own take, as I wrote here, was that Vanderhaeghe reintroduced me to "the novelist's gift[:] to see key struggles of our own time in fully-realized other worlds."
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
