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Book Review: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
I have a crush on Anne Lamott.
When I picked up Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, I had no idea I was going to fall in love. Maybe it’s her innocent-sounding name; maybe it’s that all her books have dealt, at least in some small way, with matters of faith; maybe it’s the fact she is both a bestselling author and respected writing teacher. Whatever the reason, I had the notion that Ms. Lamott was a kindly, serious, perhaps even schoolmarmish, woman of letters.
Boy, was I wrong.
Anne Lamott has a fierce, moving, and often screamingly — wickedly — funny voice that turns a meticulous eagle-eye on whatever it is she decides to investigate. In Bird by Bird, she takes on the craft of writing. But it’s not just the processes and semantics and rules of the trade that she thoroughly dissects here. Instead, Lamott focuses her lens on the writing life: what it means to live, work, and breathe your passion for words. As the book’s subtitle suggests, this isn’t a mere manual for writing.
It’s a manual for life.
Drawing on her decades as a working writer, Lamott shows us how to live like writers. How to see like writers. How to process like writers. And how to bust through the myriad roadblocks, pitfalls, gaping maws, and yellow-police-taped zones of neuroses all of us writers have, to just get it all down. Comprised of chapters with titles like “Shitty First Drafts”, “Radio Station KFKD [K-FUCKED]“, and, one of my personal favorites, “Broccoli”, Ms. Lamott has fashioned a no-nonsense guide to tackling writing as your passion, your career, and the very stuff that flows through your veins.
Though she made me wail with laughter throughout this book, Lamott is equally adept at creating truly poignant and emotionally pure scenes and nuggets of wisdom. Some of the book’s most profound lessons come from the time she spends with her dying best friend Pammy. Like any good writer, Lamott is unafraid to look directly into those dark places and confront the inky silence head-on. But what makes her unique is her ability to experience every moment of it, no matter how painful, and then step back, tear away the layers, and marvel at the lesson beneath it all.
An added bonus of Bird by Bird is this, one of the most beautiful insights into books that I’ve ever come across:
“..for some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid pieces of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet you or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die. They are full of the things that you don’t get in real life–wonderful, lyrical language, for instance. And quality of attention: we may notice amazing details during the course of a day but we rarely let ourselves stop and really pay attention. An author makes you notice, makes you pay attention, and this is a great gift. My gratitude for good writing is unbounded; I’m grateful for it the way I’m grateful for the ocean.”
And I am grateful for Anne Lamott. Grade: A
Book Title Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
Author Anne Lamott
Publisher Anchor
Year Published 1994
ISBN 0385480016
Snarkbytes Lamott’s life and work is the subject of the documentary Bird by Bird with Annie: A Film Portrait of Writer Anne Lamott, by Oscar- and Emmy-winning filmmaker Freida Lee Mock.
BS Under the Covers: SciFi Novels
There are so many terrific websites out there that “review” book covers in truly ingenious ways. I know I’m not adding anything new to the snarkeriffic art of book cover critique, but writing these things is just damn fun. Especially when you consider the literary world is blessed (plagued?) by an endless supply of spectacularly questionable cover art.
In today’s BS Under the Covers, let’s take a look at a few sci-fi novel covers, shall we?
Chick: “Senor Phil, hurry up and kill that giant Sucret headed right for us! My boobs are rigid with fright, and I fear I may not be able to hold this Rockette kick much longer!”
Dude: “Godammit, Margarita, stop distracting me. Not only is my ribbed black condom spacesuit starting to ride up, but I’m having a helluva time trying to shoot this thing down. My jizz shooter just isn’t powerful enough.”
Chick (under her breath): “Tell me about it.”
Oh what fun this one is. Overflowing with possibilities. Let’s break it down to the major points.
- Check out the totally ripped Jesus-wannabe with the jaundiced skin and abs you could grate your Muenster on. And I don’t know about you, but I really dig when my heroes wear solid gold banana hammocks.
- I’m a little disturbed by the topless woman on the right. The bosom-baring doesn’t bother me…it’s just that I think the woman is Heloise, from Hints from Heloise! Oh, Hel! How the mighty have fallen! I thought for sure she’d be removing red wine stains with pickle brine or something — not posing topless for sci-fi novels.
- Why is the Buddha-wannabe, who is also excitingly ripped, stepping into the fire? I hope it’s a demonstration of his meditative prowess. If it isn’t, one of those naked, booger-colored ladies in the background should really get a Burn Center on the line.
- And what’s the deal with the yellow-haired, gender-defying twins? From the neck up, they are clearly female. Their chests, however, are obviously male. The crotch is questionable, but I have to lean toward “outies” over “innies”. Wait. Wait just a goll’durned minute! It’s the Olsen Twins! I’m so glad billionairehood has not gone to their heads and they’re still finding work. Rock on, Mary-Kate and Ashley!
- Uh-oh, Mary-Kate better watch it. Scary Man With Misshapen Skull and Uncomfortable Necklace wants to eat her brains.
Now, I saw a movie once called Little Fuzzy, but I don’t think it was based on this book. In fact, I’m sure it wasn’t based on this book.
Those little monkey dwarves are kinda cute, so I’m having a tough time ragging on them. Especially since they’re trying to be so tough.
But why does Henry from Punky Brewster get a fancy-schmancy supersonic fishing pole while the monkey dwarves get swizzle sticks? That doesn’t seem fair.
And I do hope Henry realizes that getting into that pose is one thing, but getting up from it is entirely different. Even with a colony of monkey dwarves to aid you, a broken hip is no walk in the park.
Oh dear, this one frightens the bejeezus outta me.
This guy looks like a low-rent Freddy Krueger. Except instead of haunting Elm Street, this d-bag haunts his trailer park. Looking for, presumably, the blood of a virgin — or a case of PBR, whichever he happens upon first.
And you know that bird is thinking, “I have to stand on this asshole’s shoulder all day and they don’t even give me my own seed bell. Oh well, at least I get to stand on the shoulder that isn’t sprouting a dangerous horn.”
I LOVE this one.
- Phallic spaceship lands fully erect on Earth.
- Handsome alien straps on the two pieces of equipment necessary for earthly life forms: a breathing apparatus and a chastity belt.
- Handsome alien, worn out from his long journey, lights up a Martian Marlboro, cursing the fact he left his Nicorette in the tip of the penis-ship.
“You know, Spot, I’ve been saying for years now that if the Castro District gets any gayer, it’s going to start flaming.”
Finally! The sci-fi book I’ve always wanted to read! Butch black lesbian propels herself through space and time with a ginormous, gun-like growth protruding from her belly.
They really need to rethink the fluorescent lighting, though. Even in a gravity-free space portal that style of lighting looks like hell.
And, floating above our heroine, is that Leonardo DiCaprio with boobs? I think it is!
Discarded titles for this book:
- Does This Giant Caterpillar Make My Ass Look Big?
- Now I Really Regret Giving My Underwear to Britney
- Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride
- Raven: Swordsmistress of Chaos and Queen of Chapped Butt Cheeks
- The Polar Ass Caps
- Excuse Me, Kermie, I Lost My Contact Lens
- All Right, All Right, But If I Lick It, Will I Get High?
- Unshaven Arctic Circle
No, your eyes are not deceiving you. That’s Fabio, wearing a diaper, in imminent danger of being thrown into a raging fire.
Am I the only one who’s rooting for the elephant?
Don’t you just hate it when this happens?
You’re walking across the barren tundra, minding your own business…and you run into a giant disposable razor blocking the road. Nothing can ruin a day quicker.
The Book Snark Hero of the Day: Patrick Scott
Patrick Scott, a University of South Carolina English professor and the head of Rare Books Collections, was awarded the Friends of the Richland County Public Library’s Lucy Hampton Bostick Award. Since taking the helm ten years ago, Scott has doubled the university’s collection to more than 100,000 volumes.
He has played a key role in not only acquiring precious collections on the likes of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Milton, but Scott has also spearheaded the university’s efforts to digitize and share library materials. In 2007, he was instrumental in digitizing the Phyllis Wheatley Project, containing the work of the famed African-American poet. The Project included the first book ever published by an African-American writer.
Colleagues praised Scott’s passion for books and his readiness to share them with the world.
Man, I want this guy’s job! Rescuing rare old books, expanding a library’s collection, and making it all digital so the rest of the planet can enjoy them as well.
All snarkage aside, Mr. Scott (actually, it’s Dr. Scott) does one hell of an important job. He is one of those heroes of the literary world that often goes unsung. Kudos to him for all he does in the name of these piles of paper and glue and ink that many of us live for.
Story Source The State | Image Source Flickr
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WHAT IS A SNARK?
The Snark is a creature created by Lewis Carroll in his poem "The Hunting of the Snark". To give a proper description of Snarks, one must look no further than Carroll himself, who summed them up in one word: Unimaginable.
But this much we do know: some have feathers, some have whiskers. Snarks sleep a lot, yet they are an ambitious lot -- with very little sense of humor. They love bathing-machines and tend to bring them wherever they go; they are also handy for striking a light. Snarks live on a far-off island, a place filled with chasms and crags, and are constantly on the lookout for Snark-hunters. Their mortal enemies are hope, care, thimbles and forks.
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