Auvillar Environs - Part II

We came back from the market this morning and I got some work done, but then I realized I'm leaving in a couple of days, so if I'm going to do any more exploring, I'd best get it done. So I took the afternoon off to WALK back to Valence d'Agen. It's about 3 miles each way, and it was not, but, hey, I needed the exercise. The pedestrian friendly route is past the golf course (!) and a series of poplar groves.

Other than that, there isn't much to see on the walk--good for thinking and planning, though--although there is a nice shot of the power plant on the bridge crossing the cooling canal.

There isn't much to see in Valence d'Agen, either, although it was funny to walk around the same streets where the market was--it looks completely different. I did spot some folks playing petanque in the Place Nationale, and also walked by this old washing station--the lavoir.

Then, on the way back, I caught these nice views of Auvillar:

Auvillar Environs

I've been here over a week now, and mostly I just work in my studio or eat/drink wine with the other fellows and the resident staff. Not too harsh. Other than the forays up the hill to the main village of Auvillar, I've taken a couple of walks. The first, on Sunday, was just across the river to the village of Espalais. There's not much going on there, but on one end of the village is a camp ground that welcomes pilgrims, because Auvillar is stop on the Pelerinage de Saint-Jacques de Compostelle. There's a steady stream of people passing right by the studio building . . .

And right across the road is a sunflower field . . .

which look like this when they're being harvested.

Sunday is also the morning for the Auvillar market, which is pretty tiny compared to . . .

the one in Valence d'Agen, which the fellows go to on Tuesdays. We went today and I picked up some things because Wednesday will be my turn to cook.

But also, while walking around the market I saw this--the Valence d'Agen line dancers! I took a short video that I'll try to upload, too.

The Village of Auvillar

So, I'm supposed to be writing. What I'm doing, actually, is immersing myself in the novel that's already written, going through sentence by sentence, connecting some dots, filling in some blanks, you name your metaphor for the revision process. But I can only take so much of that in one sitting. So this afternoon I took a walk up the hill to the village proper. Our house and studio building actually sit in the "port" section of Auvillar, down by the Garonne River, but the town is up on a hill--fortified with walls, etc. It must have been a pretty tough little place back in the middle ages.

It's a beautiful village that seems pretty sleepy. There are several restaurants, but some of the shops--the bakery, the small grocer, a few others--are closed for the August vacation. It's a good thing I'm here to get work done!

And there's a cool old church, too, as there is most everywhere you look in France, it seems.

And here's a picture of the village Espalais across the river, seen from the park on the hill.

So, it's wonderfully idyllic, right? It sure seems that way, except for one little detail that I've failed to mention up to now. The plant pictured here is about 5 kilometers away.

I took lots more pictures, which I'll post on my Facebook album: Residency in Auvillar.

Residency in Auvillar

If you've been reading the blog posts lately, you know I'm in France. I arrived last Thursday, flying through Frankfurt to Toulouse, and spent a long weekend exploring the ancient city--the capital of the Visigoths!--about which I knew nothing. That was great, although the weather was very hot, but it was just a prelude to the real reason I came to Europe--my residency at VCCA France. So, on Monday morning, I trekked over to the train station in Toulouse, figured out the rail system (I'd already booked tickets but needed to deal with self-service kiosks to print them out), got on the train (very nice, even in 2nd Class), and got off in the town of Valence D'Agen, just about one hour from Toulouse. I was met there by someone from VCCA and then got settled into my room and studio. (That's a picture of my room, at left.)

I then spent some time getting my studio set up. Since the 4 studios have to work either as visual artist's or writer's studios, they're just big empty room with tables/desks, and blank walls. Which is fine. I needed to tack some outline material on the wall, but otherwise it's pretty plain. You'll note I've got big open windows and they look out on a hillside, although the first two days I kept the shutters closed because it was too hot. It's much nicer now, so they're wide open.

Here's what that space looks like from the outside, complete with grape arbor and patio. Those two windows on the second floor (or "first floor" in the French style) are my studio.

And here's a shot of the front of the studio building.

And a shot of the front of the house where we live. My room is the open window at upper left.

And a slightly wider angle on the house.

Because we cook for ourselves, it was great timing that I arrived on the day before the big weekly market in Valence D'Agen. We all went over there early to do our marketing. Lots of fun using my poor French to buy cheese, bread, eggs, yoghurt, vegetables, fruit . . .

Finally, here's a shot looking up the hill at the village of Auvillar. I've made one visit up there so far, but without my camera, so I'll post some pictures of the village another day.

Oh, yeah. The work. I've really only had one and a half days because of the marketing on Tuesday, but I got more into it today, especially because it was more comfortable, temperature-wise. I'm hoping for a good day tomorrow!

The New Yorker: "El Morro" by David Means

August 29, 2011: “El Morro” by David Means

I don’t think I’ve read David Means before, or if I have I don’t remember his name. After reading this story, though, I think I’ll remember. And when I checked him out online I discovered that he’s published four collections of stories and no novels. And then I found this terrific piece in The Paris Review: Why David Means is Not a Novelist.

In the meantime, there’s this story: "El Morro". I had to look that up because I figured it was a real place, and it is. And that’s not irrelevant to this story: National Park Service: El Morro.

But what makes this piece is the voice of the male character, who is in the middle of a tall tale that he’s telling a girl he picked up, and he goes on and on expounding about various aspects of the Zuni, and then also about the girl, based solely on a few facts that she’s given him—she was tossed out of her father’s house near Springfield, Illinois. But because this is in the third person, we’re actually getting her thoughts, and so she is able to fill us in on her experience since her Springfield days.

The story turns when they meet a woman who is helping guide traffic in construction over the mountain pass, and they guy becomes infatuated with her, because he assumes she is Zuni.  The girl becomes less central to his thinking, until finally . . .

First, what’s memorable about the story is that it is mostly about leaving your mark on the world, which is what the El Morro monument is also—ancient graffiti, in which the girl also participates. But second, the ending is memorable because it includes something of a Chekovian “spin-out”—a shift in consciousness at the end that allows it to reflect on what has gone before in a way that the story’s central consciousness might not be able to.

Definitely worth the read if you have access to it.

Last Night in Toulouse

I'm not planning to post every day during my stay in France--starting tomorrow, I'm here to work--but I've been a tourist in Toulouse and I'm pleased to be able to share pictures and impressions. Although it would eventually get hot, at 9am this morning when I headed out, the air was nice and fresh. Since it was Sunday morning, not many people were around, and few shops were open. There was a stand on the Capitole square selling bread that looked fantastic, but I'd just had breakfast so I passed it by (until later, on my way back for a rest, when I got a baguette). I just walked around the old quarter and along the Garonne until 10 when the Musee des Augustins opened.

What a terrific place! First, it's a beautiful old monastery, so it's a work of art in its own right. It reminded me somewhat of the Ex-Convento de la Natividad in Tepoztlan, Mexico, although that's not quite the same sort of museum and hasn't been as well preserved. This Musee, though, has a great collection of statues from the Middle Ages as well as regional painting from the 19th Century (and earlier), including several pieces by local favorite son Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (from nearby Albi).

There's also a nice courtyard veggie and herb garden, I suppose because the monks needed to feed themselves? (These pictured gargoyles are keeping watch over the garden.)

On my stroll, I caught another glimpse of Jacobins down a side street. Still quite an impressive sight.

Also in the morning, I visited the Musee St. Raymond near the Basilica. It's interesting in that it shows the history of Toulouse from very early times (Toulouse was the capital of the Visigoths!) but I didn't want to take the time to decipher too much of the French, and there wasn't much English.

Back along the Garonne, I decided I'd stop by L' Espace EDF Bazacle, an old hydropower station turned exhibit on water and energy. I wouldn't have paid to go in, but since it was free . . . I especially enjoyed the close-up views of the river.

And at that point I'd seen everything in Toulouse I wanted to see--and then some. I kept walking, though, as there is always something popping up when you turn a corner of one of the narrow alleys--the open markets, the vendors, the cafes.

In the morning I'll need to make my way to the train station to get on the Bordeaux-bound line for my stop at Valence d'Agen, where, if all goes well, I'll be picked up by VCCA staff for transport to the facility in Auvillar. It will take a while to get settled there, I imagine, but I'm not there for terribly long--I have to leave on Sept. 1--so I need to get to work!

Fall For The Book

The folks at Fall for the Book did a great job of the write-up for the event I'm participating in on September 21: Fall For The Book Partners With Virginia Writers Club. I'm not sure why mine is the only photo they used--they asked us all to send them in--but I'm even happier that they quoted from Tim O'Brien's blurb for In an Uncharted Country.

Our program looks pretty great, but there are lots of fantastic writers on the schedule: List of Authors.

Even hotter in Toulouse

I'm seeking refuge in my air-conditioned hotel room until the temperatures drop a couple of degrees. 102 is just to hot to be wandering around a city, even a fascinating ancient city like Toulouse. But I was out there most of the day, so I thought I'd use this cooling down time to share some of it.

My first stop was the Jacobins church and cloister (although I didn't go into the cloister), built by Saint Dominique in the 13th Century--making it the mother church of the Dominican order. St. Thomas Aquinas is entombed there--he was the head of the order and died in 1274.

I then went back to the Basilica I visited yesterday in order to check out the Saturday morning flea market. There are vendors scattered all around the road that circles the Basilica, selling all kinds of junk. Lots of bargain hunters, but I didn't see anything I wanted!

A boat tour was recommended, so my next stop was the dock. Although I sat in the sun on the boat, the breeze on the river was pleasant, and it was nice to be sitting while sight seeing for a change! Toulouse is situated on the Garonne River and is also served by a canal (the Canal du Midi) that is part of a series that links Toulouse to the Mediterranean (whereas the Garonne flows to the Atlantic Ocean. By passing through a lock, we entered a connecting canal, and then also went downriver for a while, and saw some interesting things along the way.

On the way back to the hotel for a break I stopped in an English-language bookshop. Not that I need any books on this trip, but the prices alone would have stopped me!

After lunch and a short rest, I hit the road again, this time aiming for the Augustins museum, specifically to see the Toulouse Lautrec paintings they have. But when I got there, a sign was posted that said because of the heat, the rooms with the paintings were closed this afternoon. I don't blame them, of course, but it was a disappointment. I'll try again in the morning. So then, melting a little myself at this point, I wandered around some more. I found the Cathedral St. Etienne, which is another ancient church, this one built in a hodge podge of styles.

More wandering through narrow streets, passing ancient mansions--this one from the 17th Century, the next from the 16th--and eventually worked my way back close to the hotel, where I acquired some ice cream to eat in the park. But it was just too hot, and so here I am! It's after 6pm now, and I'm hopeful that things have cooled off a degree or two . . .

Hot Times in Toulouse

Man, it's hot. It was a pleasant enough morning when I started out just after breakfast, but it warmed up fast, and the sun never faltered. I started out at the Capitole, the big square where lots happens. The other three sides of the squares have shops, cafes, and hotels, and there were also vendors in the square this morning selling crafts, some clothing, and fruit.

From there I headed north along a narrow road--most of the roads are quite narrow--to the great Basilica St. Sernin, which was consecrated in the early 13th Century (a bit before Notre Dame). It's a beautiful building in a quiet neighborhood. I was there a bit too early to visit the archaeological museum next door that houses some of the Romanesque art and early Christian and Celtic artifiacts, but I hope to get there before I leave the city on Monday.

From the Basilica I walked toward the river, crossing the Garonne on one of the many bridges that connect the two sides of the city. I was on my way to Les Abattoirs, the old butchery that has been converted to a modern art museum. But the museum is on summer hours, and I was early.

So I strolled around some--my feet were already hurting and I was already pretty damp--and found a shop where I could buy some cold water. I sat in a park near the museum--in the shade--and watched a unique carousel that attracted quite a few young children. Called "Le Beau Manége," the seats were all fantastic sculptures. This picture doesn't really do it justice, but take a close look.

And then it was time for the museum Les Abattoirs to open. At €7 it was a little expensive, I thought, but it's a beautiful building and there is some wonderful art on 3 floors, including a massive Picasso. (Click on the museum link to see the Picasso.)

From there I walked back across the river on a different bridge, got turned around a little in the Old Quarter of the City, and made it back to the hotel to take a rest, although along the way I spotted some things I want to take a closer look at later.

After a siesta, I headed over to the train station so I'll know where I'm going on Monday, figured out where the hotel is where I booked for my last night in France--nothing fancy, but close to both the train station and the shuttle bus for the airport. And on the walk back I was so hot, hungry, and thirsty that I was desperate for ice cream of all things. I found a vendor in one of the little parks and sat and enjoyed a wonderful cone. (Actually, it wasn't wonderful, and at €2 wasn't cheap either, but it did the trick and cooled me off nicely as I sat in the park and ate.)

I had thought I might make a day trip out of Toulouse, but given how hot it's going to be on Saturday and Sunday, I think it's going to take both of those days to see everything I want to see here. Plus I'm feeling like I might want to get working before I arrive at the residency on Monday. We'll see . . .

Book Review: To Be Sung Underwater by Tom McNeal

To Be Sung Underwater

Tom McNeal

Little Brown, 2011

I couldn’t put it down. Seriously. I’ve never resorted to that cliché before, I don’t think, but in this case it’s true. I’m traveling abroad right now and brought the book with me. I began it on the plane, continued reading in the airport lounge during a layover, and kept at it in my French hotel despite being seriously exhausted. But I needed to know what became of these people, Judith and Willy.

The book begins with a brief, unnecessary prologue. But after that it’s flawless. Judith Toomey Whitman, a film editor in L.A., finds that her life has “swerved” for no reason that she can identify. But it’s not that hard to understand, really: she’s forced to get rid of something that’s meaningful to her, and the act of doing so brings back intense memories of her teenage years and her first love, Willy Blunt. Because her marriage of long standing seems to have hit a rough spot, she’s vulnerable to the feelings that these memories resurrect, and so it’s also not surprising that she embarks on a quest to find out what happened to Willy. From a novelist’s point of view, the cause of Judith’s “swerve” is the same catalyst that sets this book in motion, and keeps the plot stirring for over 400 pages.

Although a compelling read, it’s quiet and lyrical. It’s also one for which place is enormously important. While Judith now lives in L.A., as a girl she lived with her father in a small town in Nebraska, and Willy, who was her first boyfriend, introduced her to that landscape in a way her father could not. When she left Willy and moved to California for college, she’s abandoned this landscape and gotten as far away from it as possible. But because of the feelings for the land that Willy instilled in her, it’s inevitable that she returns. (Perhaps that Prologue is there for that reason--to give the reader a glimpse of that return.)

Structurally, the book is complex. In the first paragraph we learn that Judith has survived this “swerve” that her life has taken, so there is the sense that the narrator is looking back at the events of the novel with a little distance. But Judith herself is reliving the events of her teenage years, and the narrative shifts back and forth between the present and the past in Part One, settles entirely into the past for Part Two, and jumps to the convergence of past and present for Part Three. The characters are wonderfully complex, as well. Judith, who in her work enjoys the subtle manipulation of time that is possible in film, also views her own life as a movie, and identifies as she’s living it scenes that will comprise her movie. She’s smart, but she’s not a great mother to her daughter Camille, probably because her own mother wasn’t part of her teen years. And when her life “swerves,” her work declines, and so does her home life. Willy is flawed, too. We see him mostly as a teenager, one who is diligent and honest, with great imagination and romantic flair, but with a temper and limited ambition, at least until he understands the seriousness of his relationship with Judith. There are other great characters in the book, too, although we don’t see any others in such depth. Judith’s father, a college professor, is charming, but harbors secrets. Her mother, as she ages, seems to regress, abandoning inhibitions in a way that Judith finds embarrassing. Malcolm, Judith’s husband, isn’t quite as well-rounded as the others, but he, too, can be charming, and incredibly patient.

One other aspect of the book that’s notable is its heavy use of allusion to literature, film, and song. Judith, the daughter of a literature teacher, has read a great deal, and the heroines of many of the books she’s read present themselves to her as life lessons. Of course Judith is in the movie business, and as a girl living with her father saw many movies with him. And songs—one particular song that is a mystery for most of the book—also play an important role, even contributing the book’s title.

In the end, the reader has the sense that Judith has it all wrong about her life’s “swerve.” That really happened years ago when she left Willy behind to go to Stanford, a place where he had no chance of fitting in—that’s when the movie of her life went off the rails. And what keeps the reader going is the hope that the latest “swerve” is going to bring her back to Nebraska and Willy.

Read this one. I’m sure you’ll like it. I’m now a Tom McNeal fan and will be looking for his other novels.

Je suis arrivé à Toulouse

Although the flight to Europe isn't quite as daunting as the trans-Pacific trips I'm accustomed to, with connections and layovers and unfamiliar airports and shuttle buses and new cities, it was an exhausting trip.

Departure from tiny SHD (Shenandoah Valley Regional Airport) was as easy as ever, and the wait at Dulles for the flight to Frankfurt wasn't too long. There were lots of children on that flight, though, so I didn't get much sleep during the 7 hours. I did read a fair amount of the Tom McNeal novel I'm doing a review of (I nearly finished it last night, jet lag and all, and then when I got up early this morning I did finish). It had been a very long time since I'd passed through Frankfurt--probably on my last trip home from Almaty, in 1995--so I wasn't sure what to do. But Germany is nothing if not efficient, so I followed the signs, went through passport control, came back through security, and made the long trip out to the gates and the Lufthansa lounge, where I had several hours to wait for the flight to Toulouse.

The lounge was nice, but crowded. I found a seat. Got some food--very nice for an airport lounge--and coffee, and settled in to figure out the WiFi, and then read. At one point after a couple of hours I looked up and saw a face I recognized. It took me awhile to come up with the name to connect to the face, and then I wasn't sure. The guy was with a woman who also looked familiar. I heard her American accent, and then I was more confident. So I approached, and sure enough it was old friends from when I practiced law in Singapore (which ended in 1993). Although I'd exchanged an email with them once when I was at the World Bank--by then he was in London with EBRD--we hadn't seen each other for 18 years or so. Since they are now living in DC and were on their way to Austria on vacation, it was an amazing coincidence to run into them in Frankfurt, and it was great to catch up.

Eventually, I had to find my gate and board the flight, a short regional trip, just an hour and a half. While I read my book and looked out at the passing scenery, the American woman sitting behind me read to her daughter from a Harry Potter book. Couldn't tell you which one. The Toulouse airport seemed deserted. There was a passport control booth, but I suppose because this was an internal EU flight there was no one checking on us, and no one at customs either. It all seems very lax--and my suitcase was never subjected to customs at all since it didn't technically go through customs in Germany either. Outside there were few directional signs, but I eventually saw one that said "Bus." I was tempted to do the taxi thing since I was so tired, but the idea of saving a lot of money appealed to me--I got a terrible exchange rate in the Frankfurt airport, and I was feeling a little robbed--so I kept following the signs. Eventually I found the booth for buying bus tickets, bought one for €5, and waited about 10 minutes for the bus to come by. I got off at the station I thought was closest to my hotel--I was wrong, it seems--and eventually figured out the map and located the Hotel Albert 1er.

The room is nice enough. Small. Nice shower. No view. Free wifi. I showered, crashed for a while, and then went out in search of food. I walked around a bit to get a sense of the downtown area, picked up a sandwich, found a shop selling wine, and came back to the room to settle in and read. The book was so good that I stayed up much later than I had planned--a very good thing.

But then I was up way early, so I finished the book and did email until it seemed like a good time to go down to breakfast. I was the only one in the breakfast room and I took full advantage of the spread!

Today it's off to explore Toulouse, although it's going to be a hot day. The picture above, purloined from the internet, is the Capitole, right in the center of the city, and that's where I'll start this morning.

BookTour.com calls it quits

Maybe you didn't even know about BookTour.com, but I found it useful. I regularly listed my events there and also subscribed so that I would be alerted about listed events that were happening in my area. But now, as of September 1, it's going away, according to an email subscribers received yesterday from Kevin Smokler, the force behind BookTour, who also recently announced that he was becoming the VP of Marketing at Byliner, an interesting new publishing venture.

Supposedly there are alternatives to BookTour.com, including Eventful.com, but I really liked BookTour's focus. Best of luck to Kevin, et al.

Shelf Awareness: Enlightenment for Readers

The publication booksellers turn to for news on the book industry is now publishing a version for book lovers! Shelf Awareness: Enlightenment for Readers is a FREE emailed newsletter with reviews on the 25 best books publishing each week along with author interviews, book excerpts, giveaways and more. Right now they’re running a contest for new subscribers. Check out the button in the right sidebar to sign up for the new publication and to be entered for a chance to win a great book!

Prime Number Magazine -- Update 11.3 is Now Live!

Prime Number Magazine is pleased to announce the latest update to Issue 11, featuring flash fiction by Norm Levine, Jacqueline Seaberg, and Paul Pekin, and poetry by Mary Cresswell, Anna Rosen Guercio, and Catherine Harnett.

We hope you enjoy it!

And we're open for submissions for future issues. Right now, we're especially in need of FLASH FICTION and FLASH NONFICTION (both under 1,000 words).

Sunday Night

The image at left is apropos of nothing, except that it was one of the pictures that came up when I Googled "Sunday Night" (this particular volcano erupted on a Sunday night a couple of years ago).

I've had a busy weekend and, except for one trip to the gym and one to the store, I've barely left the house.

One thing I needed to do is plan the Publishing seminar I'll be teaching at WriterHouse in mid September. I finished that and prepared handouts. I've also got to work on the Creative Writing class I'll be teaching at Blue Ridge Community College's Workforce Services and Continuing Education Division. I hope to finish the outline for that class (four consecutive Tuesday evenings, 6:30 - 8:30 pm, beginning Sept. 13) before I leave on Wednesday for . . .

France. And that trip has been occupying a fair amount of my time, what with getting my manuscript ready to work on during the residency at VCCA's Moulin à Nef, making various reservations (hotels for before and after, train to and from Toulouse), reviewing my French, etc.

And I spent a good chunk of yesterday working on the planned print annual edition of Prime Number Magazine. That was a lot of work, but we're making good progress. So I'm happy about that.

I also had some good publishing news, that I can't share just yet, but that's been keeping me busy as well, at least the spinning wheels in my head.

Over the next three weeks, while I'm traveling and trying really hard to think about nothing but the novel I'm hoping to finish, blogging will be light or non-existent. I'll try to post some pictures from France, though.

KindleGraph This!

You can now request a "KindleGraph" for thousands of Kindle books, including mine. So, here's what I think you should do. Go to my website, which is here. Check out the blurbs and the description of the book, and then click on one of the buy options. Or you can just cut to the chase, and go directly to Amazon: In an Uncharted Country.

Then--or if you already have the book--go to KindleGraph and request that I sign your book.

Fall for the Book Festival in the Washington DC metropolitan area - Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Live Events Free to the Public

Fall for the Book Festival in the Washington DC metropolitan area - Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Live Events Free to the Public

The schedule for Fall for the Book is filling in nicely now. It's great to see who will be reading/presenting. I'm part of a group of four writers on a panel sponsored by the Northern Virginia Chapter of the Virginia Writers Club, at 3pm on Wednesday, Sept. 21, on the campus of George Mason University.

Check out the whole schedule and attend some of the events if you're in the area!

The New Yorker: "Gilgul" by Yosef Hayim Yershalmi

August 15 & 22, 2011: “Gilgul” by Yosef Hayim Yershalmi

I liked this story well enough, although I’m not entirely sure what it was about.

Ravitch is a wanderer, who, while staying in Tel Aviv, goes with a friend to a “sorceress” in Jaffa. She offers mostly banalities, but also offers to tell Ravitch when he will die. (The offer is in the opening sentence, which makes for a very fine hook, you have to admit.) He declines and goes back to New York. Four years later—in the meantime he’s published a book, gotten divorced, and his father has died—he is on vacation and returns to Tel Aviv. He’s not sure why he’s come—he doesn’t contact his friends—but finally, after some brooding, he seeks out the sorceress. And she tells him a story about another restless man and his gilgul, which is, essentially, reincarnation.

She tells Ravitch that the story was meant for him, but is not about him, which sends the guy back to his hotel to have a drink and try to figure out why she told him the story. But he doesn’t get it. (I don’t either.)