What is Friday Fare? As a recap, on Fridays I post link love to the various bits of arcane shiz I discover on the Interwebs. I liken it to a glimpse into my mind, but without the 80s song lyrics or mental cobwebs.
Sign me up. Has it really been two years since we’ve lost David Bowie? His son Duncan found a beautiful way to memorialize him by setting up a David Bowie-inspired book club. (Bonus content: Bowie’s 100 favorite books.)
Publishers Weekly posted their list of 2018’s most anticipated books. I see some good reading in my future.
I’ve previously discussed my love for Agent Pendergast, the fictional character created by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. And in an amazing “six degrees of separation,” Liz Gatterer from Killer Nashville interviewed Preston and Child in advance of the upcoming release of “City of Endless Night.” (I met Liz last summer and she’s. amazing.)
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Listening: A lot of times when a well-known musician dies, there’s this outpouring of memories for one segment of the population; while another part of the populace scratches their heads and asks “Did you know them? Why are you sad?” I don’t have a great answer for that, but in the case of Dolores O’Riordan from The Cranberries and her untimely death at 46, it’s a combination of factors. The rise of The Cranberries basically tracks the tail end of my junior high and the beginning of my high school years. There was nothing like her voice – that glorious, unabashedly Irish brogue – when I was growing up in the middle of nowhere Iowa. In hearing the song below, I remember drives in my 1988 Pontiac Sunbird and cranking this song when it came on the radio. Whether I was pissed off at some stupid choice I’d made or happy to have dodged some sort of karmic bullet, there were so many times that this was my personal anthem.
Ms. O’Riordan’s death leaves a hole in the creative universe and in the case of this talented musician (only about six years older than me), it’s grieving a loss of what could have been.
Ms. O’Riordan, this angsty girl-woman from the middle of nowhere Iowa thanks you. Safe travels on your final journey.
Reading: Cate Holahan’s “Lies She Told.” I met this woman last summer at Killer Nashville and was intrigued when she told the panel about her upcoming novel release. Apparently, Kirkus Reviews agreed with my perception that Holahan’s book is a stunner.
Writing Life: Earlier this week I talked about how 2018 is the year of “measurable progress.” So I’ve been measuring progress, namely by tracking word counts and how much time I’m spending per week on my writing. This week was a major project week for my day job and so far this week, I’ve spent about three hours on writing. Luckily the majority of that (2.5 hours / 1800 words) was for fiction. Unfortunately, that nice little burst of creativity happened on Sunday and wasn’t replicated during the week. But I netted over 2,000 words this weekend and the trends I’m seeing for January make me wonder if I need to maximize my potential on weekend mornings. I’ve been getting some good work done during that time (and that’s even between getting up from my desk to switch cartoons for my kids.) More on this next week!
That’s it from me – have a peaceful weekend!
michellekubitz 