Nice Children Stolen from Car

I post a lot of fiction titles on Writing is Tricky, but today's book is a work of nonfiction. It is, in fact, the memoir, of Barbara Allen and of her life growing up with a father who was a hoarder, Nice Children Stolen from Car.

This is one of those books you have to check out. I've heard Barbara read sections of this book aloud, and it really is one of those books that leaves you speechless. Some of the stories make you want to cry, some make you want to cringe, and some just leave you shaking your head.  It really brings to light what it is like growing up in a home of a hoarder.

In addition, Barbara has decided to bring awareness of this subject to the public. Children do not have a say in where they are raised, and more children than you realize grow up in these unhealthy conditions.

Of Allen's own childhood:

“I know for us, growing up as children we were very ashamed of our environment. We certainly were going to keep that secret because we didn’t want any of our friends to find out how we lived or what our home looked like.  It was bad enough we were going to school with unwashed hair and unclean bodies and having to deal with that social stigma, but to actually have them come home and see our home, that would have been a nightmare.” -Barbara Allen

Allen was a keynote speaker at a Local Hoarding Task Force seminar, which you can read more about here (there is also a stream of Allen's interview on local NPR).

This book is one worth checking out!

And as a bonus, here is a news clip about Allen's book.




As always, thanks for reading.

-Tricky (AKA Mike)

Valentine's Day Surprise: All This Talk of Love

When I started Writing is Tricky I never considered that it would be anything more than my writings (or snippets thereof), rants, writing tips, and nifty little bits of our universe from travel and biology to Dai Vernon and to all things tricky.   But one pleasant surprise of starting this blog is that I find more and more often my posts turn into a celebration of the writers I know and love, whom I consider some of my closest friends

—no scratch that

—closest family members, not of blood but of passion for writing.  I will continue to post the mishmash of other topics, but I find that this year has been a particularly great year for those said writers, and today is no exception.

And what better day than Valentine's Day to have All this Talk of Love about Chris Castellani's newest novel.

All This Talk of Love display at Porter Square Books

Last week I was fortunate enough to attend the book launch and first reading of Chris Castellani’s third novel All this Talk of Love (ATToL) at Porter Square Books in Cambridge.  ATToL is a trilogy, unlike any other that I have read, chronicling the lives of an Italian family, the Grasso family, from its ancestral home in Italy just prior to World-War II, its emigration from Italy to the Untied States, and finally, in present day coming full-circle...an unlikely family vacation back to Italy.

The reading itself was a full house, over 150 in attendance--standing room only folks--and wow, hearing Chris read, it was well worth the cramped quarters.

Fans waited patiently for 2+ hours to have their copy

of ATToL signed

Chris' writing style is sharp, polished, and forms a hypnotic cadence that quickly allowed the audience to fall into the world of the Grasso family-- their ambitions, hopes, and fears.

It was laugh out loud funny yet formed gooseflesh in its poignancy.

And at the heart of all this?

What it means to be family.

The reading was, in a word this writer-and-magician does not often use--spellbinding.  I've seen few readings draw in an audience as wholly as ATToL.

"It's like living with a feral animal" Chris describing what 

it must be like to be the spouse of a writer

You should definitely check Chris out (Check the links below. He may even be coming to a town near you!)

http://www.christophercastellani.com/

http://www.christophercastellani.com/christopher-castellani-events.html

Some of Chris' fan base, including yours truly.

Can you spot him?

Christopher Castellani is the son of Italian immigrants and a native of Wilmington, Delaware. He resides in Boston, where he is the artistic director of Grub Street, one of the country's leading non-profit creative writing centers. He is the author of two previous critically-acclaimed novels, A Kiss from Maddalena (Algonquin Books, 2003)—winner of the Massachusetts Book Award in 2004—and The Saint of Lost Things (Algonquin Books, 2005), a BookSense (IndieBound) Notable Book that was long-listed for the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award in 2006.

In addition to his work with Grub Street, Christopher is on the faculty of the Warren Wilson MFA program and the Bread Loaf Writers Conference. Christopher was educated at Swarthmore College, received his Masters in English Literature from Tufts University and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Boston University.

The Devil and Preston Black

The Devil and Preston Black.

As a writer, I try to learn a writing lesson from every book I read.  With Jason Jack Miller’s The Devil and Preston Black (Devil) I learned a little about fighting writer’s block.  I mention writer's block because it seems that when I tell people that I have writer’s block, they say just write something.  Anything.  Just write what you’re trying to say.

But as much as writing is about saying something--it is also deciding what not to say.  And that is what is most remarkable about Devil.  Miller has an adept understanding of the nuance of language so readers can extrapolate a much more complex story than the one told on the surface.  He engages the reader, so that, in some strange way, the story channels a shared experience with the author.

When reading this book, do not ask what could possibly be said about the devil that hasn’t already been said a thousand times?--although I could argue that the answer from Miller is quite a bit--but rather what’s been “unsaid” about the devil  and the nature of evil.  Jason Jack Miller is a virtuoso and his writing style gives him an uncanny ability to employ understatement.  For every one thing that Miller chooses to say, he creates a complexity in his characters, settings, and plot--every element--that would be lacking if they were overstated.

Despite understatement, Miller’s images are rich his characters round; his understatement creates a reality and a believability.  Perhaps what makes this most striking is that Devil has a pinch of magic to the story that even the most stubborn I-can’t-suspend-my-disbelief readers will find to be believable elements in a realistic reality.

In addition, Miller is a skilled writer who impeccably breaks from his understated cadence and gives readers a tiny dose of overstatement, the result of which adds tension, creates mystery, and keeps the reader turning pages. And for this reader this is what makes Devil a truly remarkable book worth reading.