lost and found

Having not, as I mentioned in a recent post, read Lorrie Moore for many years, I find myself snowed in and feasting on her latest, A Gate at the Stairs. While it took me a while to really get into it (as will happen when one tries to start a book at Christmas time, I suppose), I'm already racking up a list of favorite lines. Among them:

"The January day was blue, sun sparkling off the evergreens, the air clear as a bell; it was state-of-the-art light, as noon in January sometimes could be: not rich but pale and cleansing as lemon wine." (p.78)

Later, in coming spring, a "hot lemony sun" makes an appearance - and there's a lot of classic, but somehow also more knowing Moore throughout, as if she's been there, done that and is still alive to tell the story. By the end of the novel? Well, frankly, I was getting too weepy to pick and choose favorite lines.

Frankly, it's like the return of an old friend who dropped off the map and was more or less given up for lost.Follow @nicole_mcinnes

book crush

Ever had one of these? Or maybe multiples? I heard somebody refer to Lorrie Moore last week, and it brought me right back to graduate school, when I read everything I could by her. My well-worn copy of Like Life still sits on my bookshelf, and I sometimes think of how one narrator described herself waiting for her lover as arranged on the bed like some ridiculous cake.

Anne Lamott’s books were major crushes for me, too. I’ve been reading her books since Rosie, Hard Laughter and All New People were new. And since I’m from Marin, it’s not at all unusual to see her around town when I’m visiting. When she came to the Northern Arizona Book Festival back in the ‘90s, I thoroughly embarrassed myself by giving her a big hug during the author meet-and-greet. I’m sure she thought I was a stalker or something.

I don’t have any current book crushes, but the history goes way back. What are some books you’ve crushed on, either recently or in the distant past?Follow @nicole_mcinnes

you're ugly, too

So, I'm in the checkout line at one of the Flagstaff Safeways the other day, having spent the last hour loading my cart to overflowing in an effort to restock our cupboards. I had to do a triple-take at the sign above the register to make sure that I hadn't accidentally and boorishly wandered into an Express lane, because there was NO line. This is unheard of in the Bay Area - I'm still in culture shock.

So, as I'm leaning over, stacking my groceries onto the conveyor belt, I get the distinct impression that my head is faux pas-ishly close to something it shouldn't be close to. And when I glance to my left, I see that my impression is correct: My head is mere INCHES away from Cameron Diaz' ass. Well, I guess I shouldn't automatically assume that the ass in question belonged to Diaz (her face wasn't showing), but she does seem to be a favorite of The Tabloid Celebrity Butt Issues, which are - dishearteningly - back at at a grocery store magazine rack near you. In fact, it seems that a veritable Tabloid Celebrity Butt Issue (TCBI) Competition heats up on these racks every so often - who can show the largest derriere escaping from the most pathetically small bikini bottom; who can computer-enhance the greatest number of dimples onto the fewest cheeks; who can publish the clearest bonus shot of an amply-padded celebrity who has also turned her makeup-free face toward the camera in horror, allowing all tabloid readers to glory in the fact that NOT ONLY DOES SHE HAVE AN ENORMOUS BUM, BUT SHE'S ACTUALLY UGLY, TOO. (In the late 1980's short story and novel writer extraordinaire, Lorrie Moore, wrote a story with the same title of this post, wherein she used that old joke - you know the one: A man is told by his doctor that he has only weeks to live. "I want a second opinion," the man says. "Okay," says the doctor. "You're ugly, too.")

Can somebody please explain to me the purpose of these TCBIs? After spending 99% of the publishing year glamorizing these very same celebs for their skeletal remains - er, slender figures - and flawless complexions (which you, dear reader, shall never attain, BUT! For the low, low price of just $3.99 you can take this magazine home and pore over our exclusive photos while finishing off that pint of Haagen Dazs), what is the point of the Brutally Honest Unveiling of the Heinies (BHUH)?

Are the buyers of these rags (and the innocent victims simply trying to pay for our groceries and get home) supposed to all of a sudden feel like that virtuous and legendary child in Andersen's classic fairy tale "The Emperor's New Clothes?" (Hey! Those actresses aren't perfect after all!) Or is this a more sinister attempt to reduce us all to social snipers straight from the fourth-grade playground? (That Cameron Diaz thinks she's so hot, but have you SEEN her butt?) Don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about. If you weren't harassed by one of those girls, then you probably WERE one of those girls.

Whatever the tabloids' intentions, I propose a massive boycott. Of course, first I'll have to figure out who actually buys these things (Mom, can you send me a list of your friends' phone numbers? I'm KIDDING.) Then I'll have to make sure that I'm not caught out in public in a string bikini any time soon, lest the Star and the Enquirer put a retaliatory bounty on my ass - er, head.Follow @nicole_mcinnes