First up: Free stuff! Luft Books is giving away some free Kindle-formatted
eBooks at Amazon today (and, in some cases, for the next few days). My books Demon City, Charlotte Dent (2008 ABNA semifinalist. Per Publishers Weekly: “From start to end, this is a crisp, fun
treatment of Hollywood life”), and Preppies of the Apocalypse are all free right now, as is Four Emperors, the sleazy-yet-fun gay supernatural romance I wrote
under the nom de plume Evan Allen. It’s
a good time to scoop ‘em up. No Kindle, no worries: Amazon offers free apps to
let you read Kindle-formatted content on your computer or most devices.
Easy-peasy. (With the exception of Four
Emperors, all my books are also available in paperback.)
Unsure where to start with my books? I usual point people in
the direction of my all-purpose crowd-pleasing mystery Bias Cut (2012 ABNA semifinalist, 2013 IPPY medalist), which isn’t
free today, but which, at a very reasonable $2.99, probably isn’t going to
break anyone’s budget. Or you can check out the full Luft catalogue here.
My sister and I took an impromptu jaunt up to Ithaca last weekend to
visit her alma mater, Cornell. The Cornell campus is huge and sprawling and
gorgeous (or, to make the obvious Ithaca joke, gorges. Because the campus is
surrounded by gorges, geddit?). Whenever I visit, I develop a huge, burning
case of campus envy. My alma mater USC has a perfectly nice campus, but it’s
smack in the middle of Los Angeles, and thus it doesn’t have room to sprawl (my
sister works at Columbia University in Manhattan, and the problem there is even
worse. Columbia
has a lovely old campus, but the gorgeous old buildings are all smooshed right
up against each other in a claustrophobic manner).
For comparison’s sake, this was my old dormitory at USC:
Here’s Ingrid’s old dormitory at Cornell:
Yeah. She lived in the tower. Her dining hall was modeled
after Christ Church
at Oxford .
Cornell is also surrounded by stuff like this:
At this point, that’s just rubbing it in.
Here’s me looking grumpy and mean at the monument to my
sister’s former professor, the legendary Carl Sagan, on the Ithaca Commons. Despite
being really rather mild-natured and pleasant in person, I always look grumpy
and mean in photos. In the immortal words of Ringo, it’s just me face.
While in Ithaca ,
we took in a screening of Pawn Sacrifice,
Edward Zwick’s fictionalized version of the sad, bizarre life of chess legend
Bobby Fischer (Tobey Maguire), which centers around the pivotal 1972 Fischer-Spassky
match. As a couple of hardcore chess junkies, Ingrid and I both loved it. It’s
beautifully cast—Liev Schreiber is wonderfully cool and charming as Soviet
chess icon Boris Spassky, and Peter Sarsgaard almost steals the movie as
Fischer’s long-suffering friend/advisor. Totally entertaining. Bonus points for
the soundtrack, which includes a hilariously on-the-nose use of Jefferson
Airplane’s “White Rabbit” as Fischer spirals further into madness (“When men on the chessboard get up and tell
you where to go/And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is
moving low…”).
My chess game is slow and unglamorous, yet inexorable. I’m a
bulldozer on the board. I’m a mediocre good player; if you don’t play much
chess, I’ll beat you, simply because I do
play a lot of chess. For years, it was a point of pride for me that I was a better
chess player than either my father or my sister (this despite being three years
younger than Ingrid, and despite being a freaking screenwriting major while she was a math major). Ingrid and I have
lived together four years now; in those four years, we’ve played two games of chess
against each other every night, with relatively few exceptions. Hey, guess
what? She’s now better than I am. This annoys me more than words can say.
Anyway, while I’m really a very mild-natured and polite person most of the time,
losing at chess can turn me into a raging asshole, as Ingrid can testify. So in
Pawn Sacrifice, while I certainly
couldn’t condone Bobby Fischer’s rampant egotism and wild paranoia and general
insufferability… I could sort of understand it.
Continuing from last week, here are some more amazing illustrations from The Man From U.N.C.L.E.: The Calcutta Affair, which is probably the best thing I’ve
ever received from eBay. Dig Illya's blue-green shoes and the way he sits in a chair in this first one:
Because Duran Duran is touring right now, and because they
just released their new album, there seems to be a resurgence of interest in
Duranalysis, which is very, very cool. I’ll try to get some fresh Duran content
out in the coming weeks. Here are my five most popular Duranalysis posts of all
time:
1. Duranalysis Book Report: In the Pleasure Groove versus Wild Boy (this is popular because everyone
likes hearing Andy gleefully talk trash about Nick)
2. Wild Boys (my first Duranalysis, and an excellent place
for newbies to start with all this nonsense)
3. Hungry Like the Wolf (of
course)
4. Girl Panic! (…I actually have no idea why this one gets
so much traffic)
5. Save a Prayer (though New Moon On Monday is surging
lately and will probably overtake it in a few days)
In honor of Pawn Sacrifice, I’m leaving you with Jefferson
Airplane’s “White Rabbit”:
Comments
Love those Man from UNCLE pics! Fine, fine stuff...
I don't know what it is about chess that makes us all so gleefully obnoxious and mean-spirited and odious. I was just thinking of what was probably my last game against dad before his death: I beat him, he complained bitterly that the pawns looked too similar to the bishops (in his defense, it was an unfamiliar board and the pawns did look like bishops), I accused him of being an ungracious loser, he conceded this but insisted he was always a gracious winner, whereupon I said, "Well, I wouldn't know that, would I?"
...we are, on occasion, awful people.