Why I Read by Jennifer Traig

An occasional feature in our email newsletter is the "Why I Read" column. We've collected some wonderful short essays on the topic from fine writers over the years. Here's what author Jennifer Traig (Devil in the Details, Well Enough Alone, etc.) had to say when we asked her:

I read because there are places I can’t bring my TV and if I’m not stimulated every second of the day my teeth ache with boredom. I read while I walk, while I knit, while I bathe, while I eat. Especially while I eat. My books are, essentially, two-hundred page placemats, stained beyond all recognition with greasy fingerprints and spilled spaghetti sauce.

I read because I can’t stand not to. I get panicky when I don’t have reading material, scanning my surroundings for any words I can find. I have memorized the Muni Night Owl schedule. I know exactly what to do in an emergency on BART. A short list of things I have read when nothing else was available:

· My parents’ Maxima owners’ manual

· AARP magazine

· “Iron: Are You Getting Enough?”

· “Some Facts on Herpes”

· LOTTOPeople Magazine

· Burpee seed catalog

· Map of Los Angeles

· The back of a Safeway receipt

· BEEF (America’s #1 cattle magazine)

· My Kaiser member handbook

· LL Cool J’s autobiography, I Make My Own Rules

I’m sort of lying about that last one. I had other things to read. But it’s true: Ladies Love Cool James, and the book has its moments.

PS. Other installments of the series await you by Beth Lisick, Susan Choi, Peter Rock, Dave Eggers, Daniel Handler, TC Boyle, Joyce Maynard, Peter Carlson, and Peter Coyote.

Why I Read by Peter Coyote

An occasional feature in our email newsletter is the "Why I Read" column. We've collected some wonderful short essays on the topic from fine writers over the years. Here's what actor and writer Peter Coyote had to say back in April of 2006 when we asked him:

I read, because I prefer being the casting director for my own imagination and expanding my circle of friends to include Odysseus, Anna Karenina, Julian Sorel, Richard III, The Snopses, and old ambidextrous Portnoy. There is no coffee shop or lecture hall in the world that can offer the breadth and depth of humanity I get from spending several hours with a good book. In non-fiction, reading is the perfect antidote to sound-bytes, spin, leaden-headed reporters and talk-radio, which usually sounds like an ad for anger-management classes. Print can be highlighted, reviewed, clipped, scanned and pondered. It is, in effect, in-depth conversation with great and informed minds or wits that make what passes for comedy on TV seems like a runny ichor (a word you won't hear on TV). Surrounding yourself with the concentrated work of men and women who have had the guts and temerity to wrestle with a subject for the length of time required to write a book is a corrective to shallow thought, leaping to conclusions, and running blindly through cross-fires of argument armed only with a pundit’s opinion masquerading as fact. Reading is the deliberate slowing down of the acquisition of knowledge and sensation, based on the time-tested truism that good ideas, like good whiskeys, need to mellow and accrete complexity and flavor over time. Finally, I love the company of books. They rest on my shelves like old companions who are ever ready to summon up shared memories and re-engage and review humanity's finest moments from earlier times.
--Peter Coyote

PS. Other installments of the series await you by Beth Lisick, Susan Choi, Peter Rock, Dave Eggers, Daniel Handler, TC Boyle, Joyce Maynard, and Peter Carlson. What other authors should we solicit?

Why I Read by Peter Carlson

A few years ago, we started an occasional series in our email newsletter: an original essay by a writer called "Why I Read." We've been reprinting them on the blog on occasion (see below for links to others).

Today's comes from Peter Carlson, who wrote a fine and funny book called K Blows Top. It was our Book of the Month back in June 2009 (my blurb on the book is here; or pre-order the paperback here--it's due in about a month). Without further ado, here's why Peter Carlson reads:

I read to be entertained and enlightened, amazed and amused.

I read to hear great stories and encounter fascinating minds. I read to fall asleep and I read to wake up. I read to learn how the world works, how the other half lives, how we got in this mess and how we can get out. I read to find out what happened yesterday, and also to find out what happened in the Big Bang and the Black Plague and the Black Sox scandal. I read because reading transports me through time and space and I don’t even have to get out of my chair, except to pour more coffee.

When I was in kindergarten, I fell in love with the delightful rhythm and music and wordplay of Dr. Seuss and ever since then I’ve been reading in the hopes of finding a book that made me feel as ecstatic as the good Dr. did. Seuss led me to the zany comic verse of my next literary hero, Ogden Nash. My search for Nash poems led me to anthologies of American humor, where I discovered Mark Twain and William Saroyan, and I haven’t been the same since.

I love how one book leads to another and another and another in a never-ending chain of discovery. I read to satisfy my curiosity, but my curiosity is insatiable, so I keep on reading.

I read everything--newspapers, magazines, novels, poems, biographies, history, e-mail, junk mail, and the backs of cereal boxes, although the quality of cereal box literature ain’t what it used to be. I also read the wisdom inside fortune cookies, always adding the customary implied ending “in bed,” which inevitably improves the message. I also enjoy reading FBI files, in which words, lines, sometimes entire pages are blacked out by G-man censors—a heavy-handed, backhanded tribute to the power of words.

I love the moment when something an author wrote in another time and place makes me burst out laughing. And I treasure the moments when I’ve watched people riding the Metro in Washington read my newspaper stories and laugh out loud. That’s a better award than a Pulitzer Prize, although less lucrative.

Of course, it was my love of reading that led me to start writing in the first place. And attempting to write inevitably gives you a deeper appreciation for what you read. But there is a downside, as any honest writer will admit: You read something that’s really good and you think, Damn, I wish I’d written that.

I‘ve just published a new book —“K Blows Top,” a non-fiction comedy about Nikita Khrushchev’s bizarre adventures in America. I’ll be thrilled if readers think, Damn, I wish I’d written that. The only thing better would be hearing them laugh out loud.

Thanks, Mr. Carlson. Want to read others? On the blog so far: Beth Lisick, Susan Choi, Peter Rock, Dave Eggers, Daniel Handler, T.C. Boyle, and Joyce Maynard.

Joyce Maynard's "Why I Read"

As I'm still recovering from the holiday rush, let's dip into the "Why I Read" files for today's blog entry, shall we? "Why I Read" is an occasional feature of our email newsletter and a personal favorite of mine. We've been gradually posting them online for all to see. In short, we ask authors why they read.


Today's entry comes from Joyce Maynard, a local author whose works include her memoir of growing up in the 1960s (Looking Back), her early 1990s novel To Die For (later made into a movie) and many more. Her latest book, Labor Day, came out last summer. NPR said that "apart from being a successful thriller, this book is a fascinating portrait of what causes a family to founder, and how much it can cost to put it back on the right path." Here's her original essay:

Truth to tell, I didn’t start out as much of a reader. I watched TV as my own private rebellion against the world of English literature. Child of two English teachers who quoted Shakespeare and eighteenth century poetry at the dinner table, I favored “Father Knows Best” and “Gilligan’s Island.” Still, every night before I went to sleep, my father sat at my bedside, reciting poetry. Sometimes he had me memorize Wordsworth. Sometimes Yeats or Blake. And the rhythms stuck in my brain, even as the sitcom stories faded.

I thought about our old practice of memorizing poetry just the other day, when (having come, a little later than some, to the joy of reading great literature) I had reached that scene in Ian McEwan’s novel, Saturday, in which the young daughter—with her whole family held hostage and a knife at her mother’s neck—recites the poem “Dover Beach” and so disarms the man responsible for the crime that he releases them all. It wasn’t brute force or the heroic arrival of a SWAT team that brought about the family’s release: it was Matthew Arnold’s words.

My father could have recited “Dover Beach.” My mother, too. If I had been a more willing student, I would know the poem better than I do. But the rhythms of poetry—the poetry that was as much a part of dinners in my family as the food set on the table—sustain me still. Poetry can save your life, was McEwan’s message. Not just poetry, either, but language, words, the sound of syllables, the music of sentences.

I will never be a physically powerful person, but with words, well chosen, I take on strength. I know this, as a writer, because I know, as a reader, what other writers’ words have done for me. They open up the universe. They lift me out of myself, revealing a larger world.

Words can save your life, is the lesson. I believe it. That’s why I read.

Thanks, Ms. Maynard. Want to read others? On the blog so far: Beth Lisick, Susan Choi, Peter Rock, Dave Eggers, Daniel Handler, and T.C. Boyle.

Why I Read by Daniel Handler

Here's the sixth installment of our "Why I Read" series; today's essay comes from Daniel Handler, an early contributor when we started asking this question of authors a few years ago.

We'll get right to it, but I have to say how much we at Green Apple feel privileged to publish original work by these esteemed authors in our email newsletter (sign up here) and on our blog. I mean, Daniel Handler has sold tens of millions of copies of his many and varied books, he's a dad, he plays the accordion, and he has time to act (see below) and write original essays for Green Apple? Too cool.

Here's Daniel Handler's (2006) "Why I Read:"

When I was five it was Bartholomew and the Oobleck. When I was six it was Witches Witches Witches. When I was seven it was Ramona The Brave. When I was eight it was The Bears’ Famous Invasion Of Sicily. When I was nine it was The Headless Cupid. When I was ten it was The Last Battle. When I was eleven it was The Blue Aspic. When I was twelve it was Fish Preferred. When I was thirteen it was And Then There Were None. When I was fourteen it was Clock Without Hands. When I was fifteen it was Geography III. When I was sixteen it was the Alexandria Quartet. When I was seventeen it was Mrs. Caliban. When I was eighteen it was The Flounder. When I was nineteen it was City Of Glass. When I was twenty it was Anagrams. When I was twenty-one it was Lolita. When I was twenty-two it was Lolita again. When I was twenty-three it was Beloved. When I was twenty-four it was The Folded Leaf. When I was twenty-five it was the 27th City. When I was twenty-six it was The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. When I was twenty-seven it was Blindness. When I was twenty-eight it was The Black Brook. When I was twenty-nine it was 30. When I was thirty it was The Annunciation. When I was thirty-one it was The Faithful Narrative Of A Pastor’s Disappearance. When I was thirty-two it was The Long Goodbye. When I was thirty-three it was Why Did I Ever. When I was thirty-four it was Jackstraws. When I was thirty-five it was Seek. When I was thirty-six, so far, it’s The Unsettling.

Want more? Previous participants also include Beth Lisick, Susan Choi, Peter Rock, T.C. Boyle, and Dave Eggers. Why do you read?

Oh, and we can't resist showing this again:

Hubba Hubba Ding Ding

But I'll bet that you missed it. . .

Maybe the coolest author event that I've ever organized happened last night, and unless you were one of the lucky group that packed the house at The Hypnodrome, I'm afraid that you missed it. C'mon people, what part of FREE BURLESQUE didn't you understand? We certainly could have made room for a few more.

Lily Burana read briefly from her new one, I Love a Man in Uniform, but mostly she (like everyone else) whooped it up for Sugar Shack burlesque troupe, who entertained us all with the finest bumps and grinds. Pasties were bouncing while costumes were falling all through the night, and we even managed to raise a grip of bills through a prize-laden raffle for Lily's favorite charity, Soldiers Angels. Thanks to all performers, especially my co-host for the evening Lady Satan. So what have we learned? That's right - check the event section at the Green Apple Books website often for more upcoming good times, and don't miss out again. We won't always promise the best in burlesque like last night, but we do promise that there will be books.

Yes, I did take pictures, but I'm not sure that you should see them, though. Should have been there. Instead, here's another blast of 3 Easy Pieces (and why I read) with one of The City's special residents, Frank Chu (aka That Guy With The Sign Who Seems To Be Everywhere I Go). I think this one should be called "Why I Read (and 1 really difficult answer)." Enjoy!

Frank Chu does Green Apple Books 3 Easy Pieces (and why I read) from kevin hunsanger on Vimeo.

Why I Read by Dave Eggers

Here's another in our series of original short essays written for Green Apple's monthly email newsletter. In fact, it's the one that launched the series.

In the summer of 2006, we asked local author/publisher Dave Eggers to write an essay introducing Give a Kid Some Credit (to celebrate our 40th anniversary, we gave every 3rd grader in SF public school a $10 credit at the store; luckily not all 3,900 kids redeemed them). We didn't actually use his essay for the brochure (the mayor beat him out), but it got us thinking about things. Kind of. . . .

Here's Dave Eggers on "Why I Read":

I could sit here and say you should read because it makes your brain bigger and enriches your life in a thousand ways and makes you more attractive to everyone you love and want to love—and that’s all true —but the main reason I read is to avoid being eaten by goats. I don’t know about you, but I live around a lot of goats, and they love to eat people. And the only thing that seems to thwart them is books. Sometimes you can hit them over the head with your book, but usually just the sight of someone with a book is enough to send them on their way. I can’t tell you how many times I was almost eaten by a goat. Dozens, probably. And every time they’re about to cut into my foot with these big steak knives they use, they see me reading and they say, “Oh, okay. Forget it, man,” and then they go eat someone watching TV instead. So reading has that going for it. --Dave Eggers

Here are links to the other three (posted so far) "Why I Read" essays: by Peter Rock, Beth Lisick, and Susan Choi.

Why I Read by Susan Choi

About three years ago, we launched an occasional feature in our monthly e-mail newsletter called "Why I Read." We asked authors, mostly local, to answer that seemingly simple question. The replies were as varied as the question allowed: from the quirky (Dave Eggers) to the earnest (Joyce Maynard), from the episodic (T.C. Boyle) to the hilarious (Kim Wong Keltner). It seems as good a time and forum as any to release these brief essays to the larger world, i.e. the vaunted blogosphere.

Today's "essayette" is by New York author Susan Choi. Her latest novel--A Person of Interest--which was our February 2008 Book of the Month, is just out in paperback.

"I read because when I don’t, I grow inarticulate and and I walk into doorframes. It’s like when I don’t drink black tea in the morning, and in fact, if I down lots of tea I can somewhat combat the impairments, but unless I also read, pretty soon I’m right back where I started. Or else I get a headache, and tightness in the chest, like the feeling of not enough carbs, and again, if I eat some spaghetti the symptoms abate, but if I don’t also get to a book, the relief is short-lived. I read because if I don’t I’m short-tempered, short on imagination and the sense of delight. I’ll feel the way I do when sleep-deprived, so much so that an unbroken night’s sleep – even more rare than an unbroken hour to read – can go some way toward blunting my longing to read, but can’t cure it; no substitute can. Ever since having children, my existence has seemed winnowed down to my physical needs: the need to sleep, the need to eat, the needs for caffeine and aspirin, the need to lie on the couch with a book. I’m not metaphorizing: the last is as physical as all the others. No minute during which I might read can go unutilized. At lunch I’m always roving the house, loaded plate in my hand, trying to relocate my book while my meal goes cold. If I come by a few minutes’ peace – in the post-office line, on the subway – and don’t have a book, I can get so annoyed that I cry! I read because I can’t manage not to – and because it’s the one bare necessity that is also a gorgeous indulgence. It’s the food that’s a banquet, the rest that’s a pageant of dreams." --Susan Choi

Why I Read by Beth Lisick

About three years ago, we launched an occasional feature in our monthly e-mail newsletter called "Why I Read." We asked authors, mostly local, to answer that seemingly simple question. The replies were as varied as the question allowed: from the quirky (Dave Eggers) to the earnest (Joyce Maynard), from the episodic (T.C. Boyle) to the hilarious (Kim Wong Keltner). It seems as good a time and forum as any to release these brief essays to the larger world, i.e. the vaunted blogosphere.

Here's one of my favorites, from local author Beth Lisick. Beth's a funny writer; her latest book, here, is a hilarious romp through the world of self-help, just out in paperback. She is also the co-host of one of the most pleasant ways to spend an evening in San Francisco: the Porchlight Series. Here's her essay, written for us back in August of 2006.

"My mom says I learned to read when I was four years old. My oldest brother Paul would come home from kindergarten and hold a 'class' for me and my other brother Chris, teaching us what he had learned that day. By the time I went to kindergarten myself, I was really good at reading out loud, and the teacher would let me read Maurice Sendak books to the class. My favorite was Pierre, the boy who didn't care about anything and ended up getting eaten by a lion.

"Then I stopped caring about books for a good long time while I honed my skills at sports and boys. I was a total outdoorsy jock child who would race through whatever books I had to read for school just to put them behind me. This went on for about twenty years. Not very cool, I know. It's embarrassing to admit how many books I technically 'read' that didn't stick with me at all and I like to fantasize about how much smarter I could be right now if only I'd been truly reading that whole time.

"GOOD NEWS. I fell in love with reading again. Finally. It happened a couple years after I started writing and I felt like I was unearthing a lost civilization. You know those ladies who admit to Oprah that they'd never had an orgasm and then start freaking out about how amazing it is, while simultaneously feeling strange and incredulous about the dry spell? That's how I feel. I love you, books. You make me feel like a human." --Beth Lisick

Why do you read?