Memoirous

I watched a very interesting and easy movie a couple of nights ago called Frances Ha. Wasn’t sure what something called Frances Ha was going to be about. It was about this generation of—what are they called? Millennials? Stupid name. Stupid idea of naming generations. The Baby boomers are big on this. Anyway, kids my daughter’s age, the ones just graduating from college, just out now trying to find jobs, their way, the meaning of life—or at least a place to live without having to mortgage their future, a future already mortgaged to forever college debt. Anyway, Millennials looking for an identity. I loved the dialogue. So realistic. I felt like I was listening in to a phone call. Conversations seemingly about nothing, about everything. Reflecting a group that can’t be serious about much because everything is hanging in the balance. Haven’t they been told the world is going to hell in a handbasket? A generation forged by a Recession (just pretend it isn’t a Depression)

I am having the hardest time imaginable getting started this morning (now afternoon), this Monday before Thanksgiving break, this snowy day in the frigid cold, cold that has arrived way too early in the season with temperatures hovering in the low 20s! I have things to do, but all I really want is to drink tea and stay warm. Even crossing the street to my office (I know I have it easy compared to some people) paralyzes me with numb hands and cheeks, my eyes constantly watering from the wind-driven snow. Can’t wait to have time off!! Yesterday I attended and participated in Chicago Book Expo—a fancy name for a pop-up book venue. It was VERY well attended and had top-rate speakers (take it from me; I was one of them!). I’ve already blogged about Aleksandar Hemon. So today I will mention Samuel Park. His book, This Burns My Heart , he said was based upon life experiences of his mother. In particular a story she often told about getting her hair and nails done the day

Have you heard? It’s been 50 years since Kennedy’s assassination. JFK. Sorry I’m not trying to be sarcastic, and I think I touched upon this during the anniversary of King’s speech and the march on Washington. There is just so much media saturation of these commemorative moments that it suddenly turns into something else. Probably how Lincoln’s birthday has degenerated into a time to sell cars or mattresses or bedroom furniture. No one remembers what Thanksgiving is about, because it’s been transformed into the day before Black Friday—and today I read that even Black Friday is getting a make-over because now retailers want to promote the weekend BEFORE Thanksgiving as the big retail day. Geez. So back to the grassy knoll and media overkill. I tuned into PBS last week for a Frontline special on Oswald and the assassination. I really respect public television and Frontline documentaries—but was there overkill? Yeah. I probably saw in 50 minutes Kennedy’s head e

The Chicago Book Expo is a pop-up bookstore and literary fair open to the public being held on Sunday, November 24, 2013, in the Uptown neighborhood from 11am-5pm at St. Augustine College, 1345 W. Argyle in Chicago. I'll be presenting at this @ 4 pm. Pop-Up Memoir, Jane Hertenstein In this pop-up book venue, Jane Hertenstein, author of numerous flashes, will guide participants through a lively workshop of isolating a memory (your first apartment! the one who got away!) and helping you to shape your own mini-memoir. Hope to see some familiar faces: like Aleksander Hemon who will also be presenting opposite of me on the schedule--drat. Aleksandar Hemon: The Book of My Lives [Chaplin Hall]

I just got over my birthday--it sounds like a sickness. Actually it's a plague. The first week in November brings about 7 birthdays that need to be observed. Not just a Facebook quickie, but card-worthy. If not even out to eat necessary. So for the third time this week I was fêted--even as I fêted and lauded others. While at the same time Christmas keeps coming soon. Maybe it is the desperation of retailers who this year have to contend with a "late" Thanksgiving--throwing everything off. But the past two days, days out celebrating, I've heard Christmas music playing in the stores and walked through Macy's where the windows are decorated and the floors displays are all about the "holiday." A little sad really. That things do no have a time for every season. The seasons all get rushed. No wonder people feel crazy. Global warming and our own internal clocks are throwing the planet off-kilter. Or maybe I'm getting old. The years keep rushing b

  Sarah Polley’s latest movie (I loved Away From Her , Julie Christie was transcendent!) is right up the Memoirous alley. One one level it is a young woman’s exploration of her own creation myth while on another level it is about how a talented director chooses to edit—what to leave in and what to take out of the story of her own life. The film is a mirror with many facets. It is also smoke and mirror—as a viewer we’re not sure what is real. Sort of in the same boat as Polley as she proceeded with this endlessly puzzling project. Once again truth is a mystery and memory is only one part of the whole. At one point in the film, toward the end, when we think (as a viewer) all of it has been told, there are no more revelations, her brother asks into the camera: What is this movie about? And Polley stumbles for a succinct answer. “It is about memory and how we tell the story of our life.” She goes on to relate that she chose to focus on the discrepancies, where each character i