This morning I sat down to write marketing-type copy for the fundraising auction at my daughter’s school. You write one procurement letter, then all of the sudden everyone thinks you’re John Fucking O’Hara or something. So now I have been tapped to write/edit the copy for the auction catalog. “Hey, jerks! It’s a wagon. Pay too much for this! Hey! It’s a quilt. Pay too much for this!” Ad nauseam. I am cleaning up a lot of typos and turning blunt sentence fragments into something you might actually want to bid on.
Needless to say, I am doing volunteer work for a project that my companion and I can’t afford admission to, let alone bid on any of the items on offer. A lot of it is typical stuff, like spa packages and ski trips, but then I ran across this badly mangled blurb:
Join S.C. for dinner and wine as we discuss the book Cahndy Freak [sic]: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America by award-winning Steve Almord [sic]. Reminisce about our own favorite candies from childhood. We will sample an array of the regional chocolates [sic] he discusses in the book. Valomilk, Twin Birg [sic], GooGoo Clusters. [sic, sic, SIC! Weep!]
Some of you may recognize this garbled passage as an offer to have dinner with Steve AlmoNd, not Steve AlmoRd, who wrote Candyfreak as well as My Life in Heavy Metal and The Evil B.B. Chow, two excellent short story collections that I devoured after reading Candyfreak. I like his down-and-dirty writing style–often, simple passages that seem like they should plod along breathe sensually.
Most of the time I am okay with being the scholarship perp at Franny’s school. I listen to the other moms talk about things I have no understanding of, like nanny problems and the travails of being retired at thirty-eight, and where on earth to “summer” this year. I like the program and the teaching philosophy, but they are expensive private schools so most of the families are wealthy–that’s baseball, man.
But then I see stuff like this and it makes me wish I had money. How fun would it be to drop money on a dinner with an author you really like? Is someone at my daughter’s school really that pally with Steve Almond? Ack. I hope the person who bids on this at least knows who he is. Again, WEEP!
My update, which is nothing special but is at least spelled correctly:
Perfect for bookworms with a sweet tooth! Join S.C. for dinner and wine as we discuss the book Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America by award-winning writer Steve Almond, a hilarious and touching reminiscence about favorite childhood candies. We will sample an array of the regional chocolates he discusses in the book, such as Valomilk, Twin Bing, and GooGoo Clusters.
Steve Almond’s website
My friend Ed has a different opinion on Steve Almond, and so does his friend Mark Sarvas.
Steve Almond commenting on his encounter with Mark Sarvas in Salon.
I would like to make it clear that Ed’s commentary came after the Salon piece. I had listed Steve Almond’s piece as a rebuttal earlier, which was making things unclear.
Actually, SJ, to clarify, my post on Almond was written after he assaulted my friend in Salon’s pages. I’m known to be fiercely protective of my friends. :)
Remember how I said I don’t like seeing actors as themselves because they never seem as smart or interesting as their characters? I’ve also never really wanted to meet authors or musicians I really admire because I worry the experience would be a letdown. I’ve met too many people who write awesome songs with, like, the perfect lyrics who end up being total assholes or just seem brain dead. Of course, it could be a great time to meet somebody like Almond, but I wouldn’t take the chance. Does that make you feel better about not having the $$ to buy the event?
If your friend Ed is going to call Almond a Livejournal-level writer, he needs to learn that it’s spelled “puerile.”
I once went to a reading one of my favorite authors, Alice Hoffman, was giving at the local bookstore to pimp her new book. Her writing is so slippery and dreamy and I went through a period of time when I couldn’t get enough. And then I met her at the reading when she signed my copy of her book and she said she liked my nail polish. I was curiously disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting.
I also think that Steve and Mark and your friend Ed are all being silly.
Ooo, auction copy editing. I did that for Overlake Hospital a couple years. Try to put spin on a complete line-up of crocheted Sonics players, circa whenever they last won a championship. Try hard, or you’ll make a sweet old lady very, very sad and maybe die!
Yeah, okay, point taken about the no money=no idea if he’s an ass thing.
I offended an archeologist at a book signing once by asking him what he thought about this crackpotty guy who wrote books in the same field as his (long story). So I think it’s more likely that I would find a way to offend the artist in question.
However, if anyone wants to slip me a crisp Abraham Lincoln, I promise to meet with you and NOT be an ass. Unless you want me to be one.
Will write for food!
One of the things discussed at Woolfcamp this past weekend was putting a tip jar on ye olde blogge. And how it’s totally okay to state, “Dudes, I am underfunded and I am entertaining you so leave some cash behind if such is your inclination.”
AH, now there is something I would want the money to bid on as well. I really, REALLY liked his books.
Cool beans
JWW