The Bookworm: The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 2

The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 2, edited by Lee Gutkind. 341 pages. W.W. Norton. 2008.

Pack-ratting is something that is genetic, but also contagious. Most people are born with it in them. There’s no way to avoid pack-ratting once you’re born into a nest of the wolfish beasts and their scent is all over you. Not even killing yourself or being killed will help, because hell and heaven are stacked with pack rats and clouds are just dust bunnies that go on forever. (Page 34.)

Ah — there is no better, guilt-inducing punishment for a lazy, so-called writer than reading a compilation of excellent essays.

It has been almost two months since I last finished a book — three if you do not count the little copy of the Declaration of Independence and US Constitution. Much like my blogging (and novel writing), my reading habit has really taken a hit recently. Traveling has not helped but I will admit to having no real excuse: I have just been lazy. I hope to remedy that in the coming weeks but will make no guarantees. However, my reading queue is growing so any extra effort would be a big help.

Mesmerized by Gutkind’s earlier collection, In Fact, I assumed his Best Creative Nonfiction series would deliver another assortment of excellent nonfiction. I was right. (Thinking In Fact was Volume 1 of the series, I bought Volume 2. The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 1, however, is a completely different book I will have to track down.) TBCN2 is, according to the back cover, a “fresh collection of fact-based narratives, mined from blogs, alternative papers, literary journals, and other publications. [Yay, Oxford comma!] This volume engages and delights with exceptional work about topics from birth to death and everything in between.” In total there are 29 unique and well written pieces, some of which are prefaced by a short editor’s note with quotes from the author. Gutkind had help compiling the collection, most notably from Dinty W. Moore, whose micro-nonfiction website, Brevity, has rejected me at least once. My favorite pieces include “Range of Desire” by KG Schneider, “George” by Stanley Jenkins, and “Errands in the Forest” by William deBuys. “Instead of the Rat Pack” by Gwendolyn Knapp, which the intro quote was lifted from, is probably one of the best pieces I have ever read.

TBCN2 was inspirational and gave me one hell of a guilt trip. Man — I have wasted almost a year and a half on a stupid novel that cannot even get off the ground? I could be writing so much better stuff! I could be plumbing the depths of my emotion through anecdote and showcasing everyday symbolism and metaphor. Perhaps I should quit… No! I have to admit, though, it is tempting. I could put my writing to much better use.

There were two things I could not stand about the book, though. First, I hated the editor’s notes, especially those including lofty, literary quotes from authors. That kind of pretention is nauseating to me. A few of the authors had poignant and useful comments, but others were just showcasing their vocabularies. (You’re a stuffy academic who knows a lot of words. Awesome. I bet your car tires are underinflated.) The other thing I hated was the web-style font used for narratives taken from online sources. All the other essays were typeset in a typical, serif font, like Times New Roman, but those from blogs and websites were set in some san-serif shit like Helvetica. Weird.

Words I did not know: All definitions are courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. Alter idem: Latin for “second self.” Selbstbildnis: apparently German for “self-portrait.” Syntactic: “of or according to syntax.” Terrazzo: “flooring material consisting of chips of marble or granite set in concrete and polished to give a smooth surface.” Sambo: “a person of mixed race, esp. of black and Indian or black and European blood.” Ineluctable: “unable to be resisted or avoided; inescapable.” Lucre: “money, esp. when regarded as sordid or distasteful or gained in a dishonorable way.” Cormorant: literally it means “a large diving bird with a long neck, long hooked bill, short legs, and mainly dark plumage,” but in this instance it is used figuratively to mean “an insatiably greedy person or thing.” Hirsute: “hairy.” Wrack: “any of a number of coarse brown seaweeds that grow on the shoreline, frequently each kind forming a distinct band in relation to high- and low-water marks. Many have air bladders for buoyancy.” Inscrutable: “impossible to understand or interpret.” Stevedore: “a person employed, or a contractor engaged, at a dock to load and unload cargo from ships.” Fabulist: “a person who composes or relates fables.” Impresario: “a person who organizes and often finances concerts, plays, or operas.” Theseus: “the legendary hero of Athens, son of Poseidon (or, in another account, of Aegeus, king of Athens) and husband of Phaedra. He slew the Cretan Minotaur with the help of Ariadne.” Taffrail: “a rail and ornamentation around a ship's stern.” Purser: “an officer on a ship who keeps the accounts, esp. the head steward on a passenger vessel.” Varlet: “a man or boy acting as an attendant or servant.” Puerile: “childishly silly and trivial.” Augury: “a sign of what will happen in the future; an omen.” Scry: “foretell the future using a crystal ball or other reflective object or surface.” Sough: “(of the wind in trees, the sea, etc.) make a moaning, whistling, or rushing sound.” Pashmina: “fine-quality material made from goat's wool.” Porte cochère: “a covered entrance large enough for vehicles to pass through, typically opening into a courtyard.” Brazier: “a portable heater consisting of a pan or stand for holding lighted coals.” Quotidian: “of or occurring every day; daily.” Mendicant: “given to begging.” Shearling: “a sheep that has been shorn once.” Jai alai: “a game like pelota played with large, curved wicker baskets.” Malathion: “a synthetic organophosphorus compound that is used as an insecticide and is relatively harmless to plants and other animals.” Exhort: “strongly encourage or urge (someone) to do something.” Afterglow: an awesome word with two meanings: 1) “light or radiance remaining in the sky after the sun has set” and 2) “good feelings remaining after a pleasurable or successful experience.” Tchotchkes: “a small object that is decorative rather than strictly functional; a trinket.” Contretemps: in this instance it means “a minor dispute or disagreement.” Polymath: “a person of wide-ranging knowledge or learning.” Jag: in this instance it means “a bout of unrestrained activity or emotion, esp. drinking, crying, or laughing.” Keen: used as a verb, which means “wail in grief for a dead person; sing a keen.”