Boardwalk Empire, Hell on Wheels, and Copper are three great excursions into times we never knew and sometimes think we might prefer. I watch them all. But for the real thing, I read old National Geographics. These writers weren't looking for period authenticity. They lived them. Read more about Finding the Rainbow
An unprepossessing name for a prepossessing bookstore:
B. Brown & Associates
3534 Stone Way N.
Seattle, WA 98103
Inventory: Fine used and rare books, science fiction, horror, mystery
A few years ago, when was only five chapters long and sitting in an old dusty file somewhere in the house, I was thinking about other, quicker ways to somehow get off the ground writing.
There's no link to A Field Guide to Bookstores. I didn't finish it. Life reared its ugly head once again. But before it did so, I had managed to visit at least three quarters of the bookstores that were in Seattle in the late '90's. I even wrote an introduction:
IntroductionRead more about The Bookstore Project
I subscribe to three magazines: Parabola, Opera News, and The National Geographic Magazine. That's what it was called in 1911. I'm currently up to October of that year, scanning a piece on Brazilian coffee farms. Oh, I've got the latest issue on deck too - September 2012. But a few years ago, I saw an ad for the complete National Geographic. From 1888 to the present. Read more about The National Geographic Magazine
Ever since I self-published my first novel (click on book cover links to the right for further instructions), I have been encouraged by well-meaning writerly friends of mine to both write and read a writer blog.
Connect up with other writers, they said. Join the community. Get with the program.
So I did that, and here's what I found: writers write about themselves and, mostly, about their books. Writers want you to read their books. Here's a sample of the content on one other writer's site:
- Where to read about the book
- Where to buy the paperback
Read more about A Psychoanalysis of Firearms
"We are going to study a problem that no one has managed to approach objectively, one in which the initial charm of the object is so strong that it still has the power to warp the minds of the clearest thinkers and to keep bringing them back to the poetic fold in which dreams replace thought and poems conceal theorems. This problem is the psychological problem posed by our convictions about fire. It seems to me so definitely psychological in nature that I do not hesitate to speak of a psychoanalysis of fire."