Showing posts with label Raymond Carver. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Raymond Carver. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Hi folks,

For the first time, my short story collection, MONDAY'S MEAL, is being offered as an ebook. There are a few remaining paperback copies still available from the original publisher, the University of North Texas Press as well.

I view MM as my very best work. It was my second published work of fiction and I was definitely an unknown at the time and it gave me great pride when the NY Times compared me favorably to Raymond Carver. Actually, I didn't know who Carver was at the time but learned quickly after the Times review came out. A few days before it was published, a story of mine was chosen for a Tim O'Brien workshop and during the workshop he pulled me aside and told me my work reminded him of  Ray Carver. When  the Times review came out, coupled with Tim's comment to me, I ran out and bought a copy of Carver's stories and instantly felt like I'd found a soulmate. (Actually, I didn't know who Tim O'Brien was, either. at the time, and then learned he was a big deal in the writing game...)

It's being offered as a prepub sale if you just click below the cover. It goes on regular sale on April 23.



Click here.


Here are a few of the blurbs it garnered at the time:

Praise for MONDAY’S MEAL: 

“The sad wives, passive or violent husbands, parolees, alcoholics and other failures in Les Edgerton's short-story collection are pretty miserable people. And yet misery does have its uses. Raymond Carver elevated the mournful complaints of the disenfranchised in his work, and Edgerton makes an admirable attempt to do the same.” —The New York Times Book Review 

“Reading Les Edgerton’s stories is like listening to those old World War II broadcasts from the London blitz, with the reporter crouching under a restaurant table, microphone in hand, while the bombs drop on the city and the ceiling caves in. Edgerton reports on the world and the news is not good. There’s a kind of wacky wisdom in these bulletins from the underside of life; the stories are full of people you hope never move in next door, for whom ordinary life is an impossible dream. This is good fiction; Edgerton writes lean and nasty prose.” —Dr. Francois Camoin, Director, Graduate School of English, University of Utah 

“Edgerton’s best stories are uncompromising in their casual amorality. They stare you down over the barrel of a gun, rip you up whether or not the trigger gets squeezed.” —Diane Lefer, Creative Writing Instructor in the MFA in Writing Program at Vermont College of Fine Arts 

“When it comes to short stories, Americans rule the roost. Flannery O’ Connor, Raymond Carver, Stephen King, Dorothy Parker, Charles Bukowski, Richard Ford, Kyle Minor. And you can add Les Edgerton to that list. Monday’s Meal contains twenty-one tales of dirt realism, sharp slices of American life. Edgerton has a strong and sure grasp of the lives of people who are standing on the edge of a precipice.” —Paul Brazill, author of Too Many Crooks and The Last Laugh 

“Filled to bursting with writing you can taste. Whether dining on bisque and blackened redfish at an upscale cafe, or eating rank mule meat in a pine board cabin, the characters in Edgerton’s world bite down hard and grind up one another with their back teeth. Monday’s Meal is a most satisfyingly vivid and visceral feast.” —Melody Henion Stevenson, author of The Life Stone of Singing Bird 

“This collection of 21 unsettling stories will appeal to readers looking for nontraditional contemporary plots with characters living on the fringes of society. Several selections will haunt readers for some time as events often take a morbid twist; others will leave them wondering about the endings.”—School Library Journal

I hope y'all glom onto a copy and if you find it worthwhile, please consider leaving a review on Amazon and other sites. I'd really appreciate it!

Blue skies,
Les

Thursday, August 8, 2013

MONDAY'S MEAL story collection



Hi folks,

(Warning: This is a long one!)

Recently, Court Merrigan, a writer friend of mine and I were in contact about his master’s thesis in which he was writing a chapter on “country noir.” I recommended my good friend Jane Bradley’s work to him and then thought about some of my own work, which I also suggested he take a look at.

Specifically, my first collection of short stories, titled MONDAY’S MEAL
from the university of North Texas Press, pub. 1997.

 

I consider this probably my best work, along with THE RAPIST and the forthcoming THE BITCH.

The reason I’m talking about it here, is that I know a lot of folks may not be aware of this book and I’m taking this opportunity to make you aware of it. Other than selling copies, I have another, ulterior motive for bringing this book to your attention. A publisher is interested in the reprint rights to it, but when I contacted the editor at UNT, he told me that they wouldn’t release those rights to me until it was completely sold out. Well, since there’s only a very few copies left in the warehouse, I thought I’d let you know and if enough people buy up the remaining copies, it can see new life… and that would make me ecstatic! Plus, I think you’ll find it to be a read you’ll enjoy.

Here’s what the NY Times had to say about Monday’s Meal:

The New York Times
November 16, 1997
By DENISE GESS
The sad wives, passive or violent husbands, parolees, alcoholics and other failures in Leslie H. Edgerton's short-story collection are pretty miserable people. And yet misery does have its uses. Raymond Carver elevated the mournful complaints of the disenfranchised in his work, and Edgerton makes an admirable attempt to do the same. He brings to this task an unerring ear for dialogue and a sure-handed sense of place (particularly New Orleans, where many of the stories are set). Edgerton has affection for even his most despicable characters -- ''boring'' Robert, who pours scalding water over his sleeping wife in ''The Last Fan''; Jake, the musician responsible for his own daughter's death in ''The Jazz Player''; and Tommy in ''I Shoulda Seen a Credit Arranger,'' whose plan to get hold of some money involves severing the arm of a rich socialite -- but he never quite takes the reader past the brink of horrible fascination into a deeper understanding. In the best story, ''My Idea of a Nice Thing,'' a woman named Raye tells us why she drinks: ''My job. I'm a hairdresser. See, you take on all of these other people's personalities and troubles and things, 10 or 12 of 'em a day, and when the end of the day comes, you don't know who you are anymore. It takes three drinks just to sort yourself out again.'' Here Edgerton grants both the reader and Raye the grace of irony, and without his authorial intrusion, we find ourselves caring about her predicament. 

Here’s what some other reviewers had to say:

“Those who enjoy reading Stephen King or watching The Twilight Zone will eat up these unique, often gruesome, at times humorous, short stories.” --School Library Journal

“This collection of short fiction by the author of The Death of Tarpons contains considerable variety of tone, voice, and subject matter, but the majority of the stories fall into two distinct groups. A large number of stories focus on troubled and deeply self-absorbed men who seem surprised to find themselves in failed romantic relationships. A number of other stories focus on marginal Pulp Fiction types who are haunted by personal demons and are drawn to violence. In stories that range in tone from the comic and farcical to the darkly tragic and grim, Edgerton draws memorable portraits of these dangerous and unpredictable characters.” --Library Journal

Leslie H. Edgerton's new collection fully meets John Updike's explanation of why we read short stories: "Each is a glimpse into another country: an occasion for surprise, an excuse for wisdom, and an argument for charity." The country of Edgerton's stories, in geographic terms, is New Orleans and the Texas Gulf Coast. In human terms, Edgerton's territory is peopled by nightclub musicians, cafe owners, teenage delinquents, inmates and ex-cons, the poor and uneducated, the heartless and violent, and a snooty former debutante.

Monday's Meal is a busy collection of twenty-one stories. A handful of these include recurring characters, enhancing the sense throughout the book that Edgerton is writing about a community rather than simply a series of individuals. The character with whom we become best acquainted is Evan, a.k.a. Pete: "Now Pete's not my real name, it's my middle name. Peter, actually. But when your first name's Evan, and you hang out where I do, you want to use something else." Evan/Pete hangs out in the seedier precincts of New Orleans. In "I Shoulda Seen a Credit Arranger" and "Ten Cents a Dance," he gets involved in, respectively, a botched kidnapping and the pursuit of an uninterested prostitute. His ex-wife, the blueblood narrator of "Princess," finds it horrific how he now "hangs out with low-lifes, even street people. God!" Evan/Pete, though, is a street-wise, philosophizing, get-by-as-best-you-can kind of guy who moves through a part of New Orleans never viewed from the tour bus.

Evan/Pete is an amusing character, yet not all of Edgerton's down-and -outers are. "The Jazz Player" portrays an angry young man desperate to release "that intense, throbbing, terrible, last blast of pent-up fury and frustration and guilt and anguish and loss and death." In "The Mockingbird Cafe," one of the strongest stories here for its concision, a black prison escapee endures a white cop's tormenting of him and then sullenly walks away. In "Rubber Band," a kid just released from the reformatory, made cynical and weary of the world, anticipates his own snapping point. While Edgerton can sketch a city hardship scene comparable to Joseph Mitchell's--and several of the stories have the casualness of familiar essays about them--Edgerton establishes the kind of convincing, and wrenching, interiority with his characters achieved by only the most adept fiction writers.
Edgerton does not write exclusively about people living on society's fringe. Sometimes his characters--as in "The Last Fan," about a dullard husband's violent turn, or "Voodoo Love," about a yuppie couple's falling out--are simply headed in that direction. To his credit, Edgerton aims for range in his characters. While suspicion of identity interlopers across ethnic and gender lines is often justified, the smart writer adopts various personae in order to strive for empathy and understanding, rather than appropriation. "My Idea of a Right Thing" exemplifies this purpose in its striking account of a woman's struggle with alcoholism and the (often) predominantly male world of Alcoholics Anonymous. Less dramatic, though no less vivid, "Telemarketing" is the story of a woman dealing with an emotionally distant husband and a pair of needy neighbors as she runs the cafe she owns and longs to have a child.

Even Edgerton's most harrowing stories, such as "Hard Times," about the deadly abandonment of a woman and her children, read effortlessly. The prose throughout is vibrant and precise. At times, the author's sharp ear for colloquial mannerisms tends to turn his speakers into Runyonesque caricatures, as when the high-brow belle in "Princess" exclaims indignantly, "Why, I'd just die!" On the other hand, such dialect adds as much local color as references to the Camellia Cafe or beignets. A case in point: after protesting how he was "bum-rapped on that litigious," the narrator of "Dream Flyer" gripes about the "effrippery" of his jailers for putting him in the same cell with an "orignal-diginal" like the Dream Flyer, who's scheduled to be "exterminated for something he didn't do." In fiction as in life, I suppose, better too much of a good thing than not enough.

Once again, the University of North Texas Press deserves high praise for its commitment to publishing superb contemporary fiction. Leslie H. Edgerton is a writer one should continue to seek out in the literary magazines and on the new-releases shelf.
Studies in Short Fiction, Summer, 1997,  by Peter Donahue, Sam Houston State University
COPYRIGHT 1997 Studies in Short Fiction
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group


On Amazon, it garnered nine reviews, all five stars:

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Thoughts of Raymond Carver, January 22, 2013
By 
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
As I read Les Edgerton's Monday's Meal, I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite American short story writers - Raymond Carver. Les has the same straight forward approach with his characters and stories, but if you read them again, you realize that hidden within one story is another in the background. Raymond Carver was famous for this and it is not easy to do. I gladly and with ease, place Les Edgerton beside Raymond Carver as one of our great American short story writers- no regrets.


2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Great story collection!, August 26, 2011
By 
Oryx (New York, United States) - See all my reviews
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
The stories in Blue Skies are terrific. Edgerton has a style that is deceptively brilliant, both in the language-stringing ordinary words together in new ways-and the way the stories unfold and end on an unusual note.
It's not the kind of book to read all at once. Each story makes you stop and think. They kind of catch a mood or emotion that is hard to define, and some have really stayed with me, in particular, "Hard Times". I highly recommend the collection.
Looking forward to reading his novels.


2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars The hard side of life., June 30, 2011
By 
Paul D Brazill (Bydgoszcz, Poland) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
When it comes to short stories, well, the American's rule the roost, they really do. Flannery O' Connor, Raymond Carver, Stephen King, Dorothy Parker, Charles Bukowski, Richard Ford, Kyle Minor. Loads and loads more.

And you can add Les Edgerton to that list.

Monday's Meal by Leslie H Edgerton was published in 1997 and contains twenty-one tales of dirt realism. Sharp slices of American life. They're set in New Orleans and Texas. Sometimes in bars or behind bars. They're about café owners, hairdressers, nightclub musicians, prisoners, ex-cons, drifters and drinkers.

Monday's Meal opens and closes `Blue Skies' and `Monday's Meal, tales of strained relationships.' But the real meat is sandwiched between them. And Monday's Meal is particularly meaty.

Some favourites: `The Mockingbird Café' is the story of a man in a low-rent bar trying to mind his own business; `Hard Times' is bleak and scary and brilliantly written; `The Last Fan' is a tragic look at a shattered marriage; `My Idea Of A Nice Thing' is a touching and sad story of an alcoholic's crumbling life;'Telemarketing,' is the story of a young couple just trying to get by; `I Shoulda Seen a Credit Arranger,' is a Runyonesque crime story.

And there's plenty more to enjoy in Monday's Meal. Edgerton has a strong and sure grasp of the lives of people who are standing on the edge of a precipice.



3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars These stories are classics, April 17, 1999
By 
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
When I finished the last story in Monday's Meal I paused, reflected, and then read it right through again from the beginning. Part of the reason for my re-reading was a simple desire to repeat the pleasure; part of it was a desire to understand what made these elegantly constructed stories tick. Just where was I drawn from a realistic beginning into the banishment of the ordinary - the strange, ordinary world that some of these stories inhabit? Just where is the edge in these finely drawn personalities, the edge that leads to the end? One can also learn from these stories. The craft, the amazing economy deserve study, but one can just go along for the ride and enjoy. I would compare some of the plots to Ray Carver's in their structure, but Edgerton has it all over Carver in his depiction of personality. Edgerton's people have depth, they are all different, and the actions flow entirely from their natures. This is a collection not to be missed.


3 of 4 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Edgerton is the last of the Great American Authors, February 19, 1999
By 
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
This collection will grab you by the heart and wrench it right out of your chest. The characters are hauntingly authentic as are the New Orleans and South Texas settings they inhabit. These are deeply troubled individuals coping with other troubled individuals who find solace only in the bottle and the arid soil underneath the soles of their battered Tony Lamas. Edgerton reigns as a supreme American author. A sort of Ray Carver meets Denis Johnson. A literary man who succeeds where the academics fail--he knows plot, he knows story, he knows action! The last of a great breed that includes Hemingway, Mailer and Jim Harrison. It's simple. If you don't read Les Edgerton, you lose.

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Darkness visible., January 29, 1999
By A Customer
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
Edgerton's stories takes us down those side streets or out into the backwoods most of us have passed by. What we meet there are the people we have avoided all our lives. What we find is the human heart, its brightness and dark corners. And we leave and return to the same world we have always known, but it doesn't look the same. Joyously disturbing work, hard to ignore.


3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars One of the best collections I have read, January 25, 1999
By A Customer
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
'Monday's Meal' is aptly named . These stories are salty and pungent with a hint of bitter chicory. No one serves these morsels, the reader has to dip his fingers into the pot. They might come out burned, or dripping grease, but the tidbit they clutch is never bland. The characters are alive. We know them well, or we know someone who knew them and told us their stories. No one tells them as well as Les Edgerton. Some stories can be gulped down and digested later. Some like 'Hard Times' cannot be gulped. It must be taken in small sips, sometimes days apart. It will take you that long to identify the taste.

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars These are some of the best short stories I've read, January 21, 1999
By A Customer
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
"Monday's Meal" is aptly named . These stories are salty and pungent with a hint of bitter chicory. No one serves these morsels, the reader has to dip his fingers into the pot. They might come out burned, or dripping grease, but the tidbit they clutch is never bland. The characters are alive. We know them well, or we know someone who knew them and told us their stories. No one tells them as well as Les Edgerton. Some stories can be gulped down and digested later. Some like "Hard Times" cannot be gulped. It must be taken in small sips, sometimes days apart. It will take you that long to identify the taste.


3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Strong hard hitting prose for deep thinkers., January 10, 1999
By 
Rosy Reader "loves to read" (Kingwood, WV (buried under 8 inches of snow)) - See all my reviews
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Monday's Meal (Paperback)
Monday's Meal is a collection of hard hitting short stories. If the reader is looking for a pleasant diversion, look elsewhere. If the reader wishes to be challenged to think about life and it's many complexities then choose Monday's Meal."It's Different" is this reviewer's favorite selection from the book. At first glance this seems like such a simple tale, but the story stayed with this reader long after the book's covers were closed. Monday's Meal is a book one will read again and again.

There is an added bonus to this book. The fantastic art of Lu Ann Barrow. There’s a great story behind this cover. During its publication, my publisher, Fran Vick, and her crew, including my editor, Charlotte Wright, couldn’t come up with a cover idea they liked. Then, one day as she was leaving for the office, Fran happened to glance at a painting she owned hanging in the foyer of her home. It was a painting by the acclaimed artist Lu Ann Barrow, titled Rain Dance. “This is perfect,” she said. As it happens, Fran knew Ms. Barrow personally and took a chance and called her, asking what it would cost to use her art for the cover. To her amazement, Ms. Barrow graciously said she could use it gratis!

It was perfect.

Today, short story collections are easily published due to the ebook phenomena. In those days, it was very difficult to get a collection published by a legitimate publisher. The “rules” were that at least half of the stories had to have been previously published by prestigious literary magazines. The other rule was that there had to be a theme that connected all the stories. Well, I’d satisfied the first requirement—every one of the stories had been published by some of the best litmags out there—places like The South Carolina Review, High Plains Literary Review, Kansas Quarterly/Arkansas Review, Whiskey Island Review and others. One story subsuquently appeared in Houghton-Mifflin’s “Best American Mystery Stories.” But… there really wasn’t a theme to them. They represented a variety of subjects, voices, themes. To climb over that obstacle, I came up with the idea of titling it “Monday’s Meal.”

That came from the Southern tradition of Monday’s being wash days. The deal was, every Monday, the wife did the weekly washing… while also tending to the ten kids she had, her husband, the house cleaning, and all of the other chores, including feeding her brood. Eventually, a common meal emerged. Usually, it was a form of either stew or gumbo. Something that could be put on the stove and when she had a few extra minutes, she could run in and throw in a new ingredient. The gumbo cooked all day long. The ingredients thrown into the pot were all over the place. At first glance, it didn’t look as if they’d go together, but at the end of the day they all combined to create a wonderful, delicious dish. In our house, we always had gumbo and one of the best ingredients (in season) was when my grandma put in crab eggs. I gave the collection the name of Monday’s Meal to indicate a kind of gumbo where a bunch of unrelated ingredients came together to create a tasty meal.

Personally, I felt it was a really neat idea… and so did Fran and Charlotte.

Which was why Lu Ann Barrow’s painting was so perfect. It shows a poor family, cavorting in a sudden summer shower in front of their shack. In the background, you can see the family wash on a clothesline. It’s the women of the family (the father was at his work), along with the family dogs. There’s even an old-fashioned washing machine on the porch.

It was… absolutely perfect. Almost as if Lu Ann Barrow had painted it just for this book!

Anyway, it’s a cover that the publisher could never have afforded but that we were able to get because of the largesse of Ms. Barrow. When you buy the book, you also get a cover of an incredible work of art.

One more “inside” bit of info. One of the stories is one I wrote when I was 12 years old and when it was published both by a literary magazine and in this collection, not a word was changed from that early version. The first three who can guess which story it is, I’ll send a copy of my newest novel, THE RAPIST to—either the ebook version or the paperback—your choice. Post your guesses here in the Comments.




Okay. Infomercial over. Hope you glom onto a copy so UNT sells out and I can get back the rights and reissue it as both an ebook and paperback.

Thanks for considering it!

Blue skies,
Les

And, thanks for your support and helping make me a happy camper!

(What a happy camper looks like in the wild...)

Saturday, March 23, 2013

GORDON RAMSEY'S NOVEL-WRITING INSTRUCTION



 
Hi folks,

What? You didn’t realize Chef Gordon Ramsey taught writing? The fact is, he’s one of the best writing teachers in the world.

He disguises it by claiming to reach cooking, but if you understand the code he’s using in his presentations on his show, KITCHEN NIGHTMARES, it’s all about writing.

Actually, it’s about any art form. The rules are pretty much the same, whether it’s in cooking, painting, writing, sculpting or music or anything else in the art world.

Let’s take a look at his shows and see how that works, okay?

First, what’s almost always the chief reason the restaurant he’s called in to help out is failing? While there are a variety of problems, without fail the primary one is that the food the restaurant is serving sucks. Let’s look at that one first and see how it relates to writing.

When he walks into a failing restaurant, the very first thing he does is order a meal. The food he wants to look at and taste is the same as the writing teacher looking at the student’s manuscript. To paraphrase a famous Presidential slogan: “It’s the food, stupid.” Or, in our case as writers: “It’s the writing, stupid.”

The quality of the food is the single biggest obstacle to success for any restaurant. The quality of the writing is the single biggest obstacle to success for any author.

See where we’re going? See how the comparison starts to make sense?

He begins with the food because the truth is, if the food’s good, just about everything else can be wrong and the restaurant still has a chance of succeeding. Conversely, if everything else is perfect—the service, the décor, the location, et al—but the food sucks—all the restaurant owner is going to have is a place that has a great waitstaff, an amazing décor, a prime location… and stands largely empty with those talented waiters and waitresses standing around picking their noses….

It’s the same with writing. The manuscript can be perfectly presented with proper formatting and delivered to the right gatekeepers—agents/publishers—but if the writing sucks, it won’t matter. Two bites into the mss “meal” and if it doesn’t taste good, it’s headed for the circular file, just like the food Ramsey sends back on that initial tasting is headed for the same circular file. What us literary types refer to as being “shitcanned.”

What are the responses of the restaurant owners and chefs when Ramsey tells them their food sucks? It’s predictable. Most are in denial. Most are in way-huge denial. Almost to a person, they feel their food is amazing. They’re convinced that the reasons they’re not rich yet is something else other than the food. The usual response before he delivers his judgment on their menu is that he’ll come in, deliver a few “secrets” that will get them on their way to becoming a four-star establishment. Does this remind you of anything? A new writer in your class or writer’s group, perhaps? Who, before the critique begins is clearly there to glean a few “inside” writing or publishing tips so they can be on their way to the bestseller lists or at least to be signed by an agent or sell their novel?

Look at the responses he gets when he tells them he wouldn’t serve their food to a dog. Many (most?) get angry. It never dawned on them that they couldn’t cook well. In their minds, it was always something else that prevented them from achieving a sold-out restaurant every night. How dare Gordon criticize their work! See any correlation to a writer receiving criticism from a teacher or agent or editor or the writer’s group?

The writer who is also righteously irate, thinks about all those people who told him his writing was “better than Joyce Carol Oates.” Folks like his family, his friends, the friendly faces in his writing group, his English teacher, his workmates. How could they all be wrong and this pretender (teacher/agent/editor) have such a different opinion? Maybe it’s because… this teacher isn’t connected to them emotionally and only judges the product? And has higher standards? A better knowledge of what good writing consists of? And a version of Hemingway’s “built-in bullshit detector?” Maybe…

There’s a supercilious teaching “method” some schools and venues want their writing teachers to adhere to, called by some the “sandwich” method. Start with a piece of praise bread, slip in a bit of criticism, and then finish it off with another piece of praise bread. Does this strike anyone else as perhaps a great example of mollycoddling? Of treating writers less than adults? Schools do this for two reasons. One, they want return customers (students). People who are told bluntly that their work is bad often don’t return. Especially when there are plenty of places who will tell them they’re great. Two, they’ve bought into this New Agey crap where teachers aren’t supposed to let their little charges know that among them are winners and losers. (Kind of like real life…) It’s the mindset that awards “participation trophies” and bullshit like that. Like the school recently in the news that cancelled their annual Honor Days because the ones who didn’t achieve that level would “feel bad.” Well… so frickin’ what… When do you suppose that kids are going to learn that some people are smarter than others, some have gifts others don’t share, some just work harder, and there are even some folks who are smarter, more gifted and also work harder? That just seems more of an USSR attitude than an American one, but I may feel that way just because I’m not up on my Karl Marx reading… And don’t plan to be…

That “sandwich” method of teaching. Two pieces of praise, one piece of criticism. That kind of implies that everybody has two great things they’re doing in writing and only one bad. My experience is that often it’s the reverse ratio and I’ve had more than one beginning writer in class who did nine bad things and only one good one. The “good one” was showing up on time and that was about it. If that’s the case, then I guess the teacher should make up things to praise them about. Wouldn’t that devalue honest praise? I mean, if a person is terrible at writing dialog and you’re out of praiseworthy pieces of bread, should I tell him the only one writing better dialog these days is Elmore Leonard?

Can you imagine Gordon walking into a restaurant and telling them, “Well, the third waitress on the left is doing a great job. The food is atrocious. The bartender served me a perfect Gibson.” Don’t think so. A more likely scenario is that he tells the chef bluntly that his food is terrible and tries to treat him as an adult who can handle the truth. That many can't isn't his lookout. That's kind of their problem. They'll either develop a thick skin or they'll continue to serve bad food and blame others for their lack of success.

Don't believe I've ever seen Ramsey serve a "praise sandwich."

There’s a reason writers don’t have a writer’s union. Well, not one that many people belong to, anyway. It’s because most of us know you succeed by merit and hard work. An organization that’s predicated on the concept of “more money for less work and fewer hours at the expense of others” just isn’t suited for our temperaments as a rule.

Okay. I’m off my soapbox now…

Another correlation Ramsey has with good writing instruction is that he doesn’t differentiate between kinds or even levels of restaurants. He puts as much work into correcting a neighborhood bar and grill in a Midwestern town as he does a pricey French restaurant in NYC. He doesn’t try to make the neighborhood restaurant into the French restaurant or vice versa. No such thing as “literary” restaurants and “genre” restaurants. The only commonality in his mind is that they be the best they can be within their parameters. He knows what constitutes great pub food just as he knows what great Japanese or Italian cuisines requires. Whether it’s a hamburger he’s creating or a soufflé, it’s all about the quality of the individual dish. He thinks like Nabokov who said he didn’t acknowledge any genres other than “good writing and bad writing.”

He also insists the menu be contemporary. That dated dishes, even when prepared well, aren’t going to draw diners. The same thing exists in literature. The writer who insists on creating stories considered archaic or out of fashion, even if written well (within the standards of that day) aren’t going to draw many readers. A writer who absolutely loves the “Dear Reader” style of Victorian literature may write a similar book, but it just isn’t going to sell, any more than an epistolary novel ala Samuel Richardson’s “Pamela” is going to be crowding anyone off the shelves at B&N. Time and again, Gordon encounters these dinosaurs who are trapped in the past and spends days trying to dissuade them of the value of their effort.

Watch his shows and see how often he tells his charges to keep it simple, use fresh ingredients and don’t overcomplicate the recipes. Sounds kind of like Hemingway and Carver, doesn’t it? Or any number of brilliant writers. The first precept I give writers is that one of the biggest keys to becoming a good writer is to pay attention to two things: Make it clear and make it interesting. Kind of what Gordon says about good cooking…

There are no synonyms for the following words in either cooking or in writing:

1. Bad
2. Stupid
3.Crap
4. Dull

They state plainly what they mean. There are words that mean the opposite and if a writer works hard enough and pays attention, they can change those descriptions of their writing to:

1. Good
2. Intelligent
3. Entertaining
4. Brilliant

… but to change those words to the positive ones takes hard work, not unearned, empty words of praise. Just about every writer starts out with the former words as being accurately descriptive of their writing. That’s no sin. What’s a sin is believing when people tell you it’s the latter that describe the work when it doesn’t. When your writing is consistently praised, I’d turn on the b.s. detector and trust it’s in working order.

Watch Gordon Ramsey when he turns around a failing restaurant and imagine he’s instructing you as a writer. The lessons he imparts are exactly the same.

Hope this gives you another source of writing education. It does me.

Blue skies,
Les

P.S. If you just cleaned your couch and found a few bucks in change, consider trekking over to Amazon and glomming onto a copy of THE RAPIST. I’d appreciate it!




Saturday, July 2, 2011

PAUL D. BRAZILL REVIEW OF MONDAY'S MEAL

Hi folks,

Normally, I wouldn’t do what I’m doing here—post a review of one of my books, but I’m going to sneak in an exception to that today.

I woke up this morning in a great deal of pain. I sprained my back last week and haven’t had a single night where I get more than a couple hours of sleep I’ve been eating pain pills like they were popcorn, but nothing seems to help. Doc said it would be 6-8 weeks before it healed. The first thing I did when I got up (after I yelped like a weenie getting out of bed) was what I always do—turn on the ‘puter.

And there was an email from my Goodreads account and in it was a review from Paul D. Brazill on my short story collection, Monday’s Meal.

All the pain vanished.

I hadn’t expected Paul to write a review on it. I’d sent him a copy awhile back just as a small gift in appreciation because he’s been huge in helping boost my writing career. He’s just one of the most generous writers in the business at helping his fellow writers.

The thing is, Paul D. Brazill is one of those names with very serious“weight” among the writing fraternity. To have him praise my work is like Job hearing from God saying, “Attaboy!”

Rachelle Gardner, a well-known agent, recently posed the question on her blog, “Money or readers:What’s more important?” Well, both are important, of course, but to me I’d rather have the words of someone like Paul than any number of readers or any amount of money. Money’s nice, but it eventually goes, and readers are great, but there are some godawful writers out there who have gobs of readers. But, when a writer of the stature of one such as Paul D. Brazill praises your work, that is beyond lucre or numbers of readers. I know lots of writers who would disagree with that, but that is my feeling.

I’ve had three events in my writing life that I count as more valuable than anything. The first was when I was a young writer whose manuscript had been chosen for a small workshop by Tim O’Brien (with one of the stories in M.M.) and he pulled me aside to go outside and talk with him. He told me that my writing reminded him of Raymond Carver and that my style was the same as Carver’s. He later sent me a long letter saying basically the same thing. At the time he said that, I didn’t have a clue who Raymond Carver was. To be honest, at the time I didn’t know who Tim O’Brien was! I’m mostly a self-educated writer (this was before I attended Vermont College for my MFA), and I kind of knew O’Brien was a big deal, although I hadn’t read his work at the time, but I had never heard of Carver. After the workshop, I went home and purchased one of Carver’s collections and instantly I felt a kinship with the famed writer. It was like shooting the shit with a homeboy in the joint—we spoke the same language. He quickly became my favorite writer and not because Tim had compared me to him or that he was a big deal in writing, but because his writing was so damned good and you really don’t “read” Carver… you just fall into the world of the story.

The second seminal event in my writing life was when the NY Times reviewed Monday’s Meal (Denise Gess), and compared my writing to Ray Carver and also praised my dialog, which I’ve always felt was my strength. I got tons of great reviews on M.M. but this was… the TIMES! Not the Mayberry Gazette or the Hog Digest or Ft. Wayne Journal-Gazette, but the TIMES!

And this is the third.

I couldn’t tell you how many sales I’ve enjoyed for my books—some have been great and others not-so-great, and I can’t tell you how many readers have bought copies… but I can remember almost word-for-word every one of these three things.

And that’s why I wanted to share Paul’s review with you.

*

From GOODREADS:

Paul Brazill gave 5 of 5 stars to:
Monday's Meal by Leslie Edgerton
Monday's Meal: Stories
by Leslie Edgerton
read in June, 2011
           

LES EDGERTON

Who makes the best beer in the world? Maybe the Czech or Belgians. Definitely not the Danes. Or the Americans.

But when it comes to short stories, well, the Americans rule the roost, they really do. Flannery O’ Connor, Raymond Carver, Stephen King, Dorothy Parker, Charles Bukowski, Richard Ford, Kyle Minor. Loads and loads more.

And you can add Les Edgerton to that list.

Monday’s Meal by Leslie H Edgerton was published in 1997 and contains twenty-one tales of dirt realism. Sharp slices of American life. They’re set in New Orleans and Texas. Sometimes in bars or behind bars. They’re about café owners, hairdressers, nightclub musicians, prisoners, ex-cons, drifters and drinkers.

Monday’s Meal opens and closes ‘Blue Skies’ and ‘Monday’s Meal, tales of strained relationships.’ But the real meat is sandwiched between them. And Monday's Meal is particularly meaty.

Some favourites: ‘The Mockingbird Café’ is the story of a man in a low-rent bar trying to mind his own business; ‘Hard Times’ is bleak and scary and brilliantly written; ‘The Last Fan’ is a tragic look at a shattered marriage; ‘My Idea Of A Nice Thing’ is a touching and sad story of an alcoholic’s crumbling life;’Telemarketing,’ is the story of a young couple just trying to get by; ‘I Shoulda Seen a Credit Arranger,’ is a Runyonesque crime story.

And there’s plenty more to enjoy in Monday’s Meal. Edgerton has a strong and sure grasp of the lives of people who are standing on the edge of a precipice.

And Les Edgerton will soon have a new short story collection published by the hip new kids on the block, Snubnose Press, which can’t be bad!

*

One of the stories Paul singles out, “Hard Times,” is one I wrote when I was 12. At the time I didn’t know what a litmag was nor did I have a clue how one got published. Another one in the collection I wrote a few months later when I turned 13 (“Broken Seashells”). When I was in college I finally found out you could send stuff out and how to do so, so I sent it to The Analecta and they published it. Not a word was changed from the original (which was handwritten—when I was 12 I didn’t yet know how to type). When it was included in the collection, my editor, Charlotte Wright, suggested my original title—“A Mother’s Love”—was too sappy (agreed! I blame my tender age at the time for that title) and so I changed it to “Hard Times.”

Thank you, Paul. I will always treasure your words.

And, folks, I know this is tooting my own horn…. but this is PAUL D. BRAZILL! I just wanted to share my utter delight with you.

Blue skies,
Les

P.S. I contacted the director of the University of North Texas Press (the publisher of M.M.) inquiring about securing the rights to Monday’s Meal to republish it as an ebook, hopefully with Aaron Patterson’s StoneGate Ink, and he told me there were still about 100 copies left and he wouldn’t release my rights to do so until they were all sold. If that happens, expect a call from me, Aaron…