Craig Davidson

Tuesday, May 30th

Danuta Gleed

Hi All,

The results are in, and I did not win the Danuta Gleed award. I did, however, share runner-up with another writer—so, like 2nd and a half, or something.

I can’t say I’m upset, for several reasons, not the least of which being that the winner, Charlotte Gill’s LADYKILLER, is most likely the best book in the competition. I’m not saying that because it won so it’s self-evident; I’m saying that because a wealth of other evidence, including a GG nomination and great reviews, confirms that the judges made the correct choice.

Now I never enjoy losing, and when it comes to literary stuff I hate it even more; if I lose a game of basketball or poker, the reason I lost is plain—I scored 9 points, my opponent scored 11; I had a straight, my opponent a flush—while books are a bit more subjective. But whereas some people dispute results of such competitions, I would say in this case the right book won. I extend my congrats to Charlotte, and to all the other writers.

Plus, hey, I’ve got 500 bucks coming to me! I love little pots of cash like that, appearing out of the clear blue sky. 500 bucks is a nice little boost, enough to pay rent or buy groceries for a few months, whereas $10,000 is almost daunting, seeing as it is “found money.” If you’re not expecting to receive $500 and do, it’s like, “Hey, great, I can pay off some credit card debt,” whereas if you get $10,000 falling on you, it’s like, “Hey, let’s get SILLY!” (Or as I would say, SILLLL-AAAY!)

Here is a list of the things I might’ve done with $10,000, followed by the dire consequences:

1. Buy a really bitchin’ dirt bike, pimp that mofo out, take it off-roading and crash into an oak tree.

2. Pay for an all-expenses-paid trip to Thailand, get blitzed on Mekong, go back to my hotel room with a lovely transsexual I’d drunkenly mistaken for a woman, become distraught upon this realization and drive my rental scooter down the beach into a palm tree.

3. Get those wicked cool calf implants I’ve always dreamed about—modeled after Tom Selleck’s in “Magnum PI”—and strut about town with my fancy new calves, showing them off to the gawking hoi-polloi...except there’s extensive nerve damage and one day, driving about on my moped, my leg-nerves go batshit causing me to careen into a weeping willow.

4. Fearing some sort of two-wheeled vehicular disaster, I preemptively donate the whole $10,000 to the MDF (Motorcycle Disaster Fund); ecstatic at my largesse, the MDF arranges a parade in my honor, where I ride down the main street in a motorcycle sidecar, waving to the citizenry, but my waves are too sweeping, too frantic, and I end up poking my driver in the eye and he skips over the curb, through a fruit stand, through the Museum of Natural History’s plate glass window, crashing into the petrified remains of a prehistoric redwood tree.

So, you see, overall it’s probably a good thing all around that Charlotte wrote a kick-ass book and won the 10 grand. I’d only get myself into trouble.

All best, Craig.
Craig Davidson on 05.30.06 @ 06:52 PM EST [link]

Monday, May 29th

David Letterman

Hi All,

Been staying up lately to watch David Letterman.

When I was in my undergrad years at Trent U in sunny Peterborough, Ontario, David Letterman was my idol. On nights when we weren’t drunk (or too drunk), me and my buds would head to the Common Room to check out the Late Show.

The Common Room at our dorm house was a bit of a warzone. It’s a pretty artsy university, so often we’d find it occupied by some interpretive dance troupe: a bunch of weirdos in serapes and headbands rolling around on the carpet as in the grips of a communal grande mal seizure, tribal music playing while the director goes, “That’s right—feel the ENERGY of the piece. Let the music flow through you, animate you. You are putty and the music is your sculptor...” etc, and c. Or else a pack of bozos watching some foreign movie filled with angst, cavorting midgets, and incest. If we were lucky we might find the room occupied by a bunch of stoners, who’d been drawn to the TV like dozy, half-smiling flies to a bug zapper; they didn’t mind what they watched, delighted as they were by flickering images of any sort.

Anyway, a Battle of the Nerds would ensue (make no mistake, me and my buds were the Letterman Nerds, and every bit as appalling as the dance troupe nerds and foreign film nerds; we were half so affected, but nerds nonetheless), and if we won the Nerd standoff, the other nerds vacated the Common Room and we got to watch Letterman.

My devotion was such that one summer I got tickets and me and my buds Neil, Ryan and Pete headed down to NY City to catch the show. We took the bus down from Niagara Falls, a 12-hour jaunt. I don’t think any of us were wise enough to exchange our Canadian money for US greenback, which made me realize how pathetic our currency is to Americans. I remember in the Buffalo Greyhound shelter I tried to buy a Jamaican Patty from a robust, jovial lady who would have none of it.

ME: One Jamaican Patty, please.

ROBUST LADY [Buffalo accent]: Chicken or bif?

ME: Beef. [proffering $5 Canadian] Can I pay with Canadian cash?

ROBUST LADY [laughing uproariously]: Wassa? No, I ain’t taking dat!

ME: Why not? It’s legal tender.

ROBUST LADY [flapping hands dismissively]: Get outta here wid dat! Trow day away! Trow dat in da gaaaaaa-bidge!

While I did not take her advice to throw my money in the garbage, I was not able to purchase a single thing until I made it to NY, to a Times Square money-changer, where I was summarily raped on the exchange rate, ending up with seven dollars and a handful of change for $100 Can. (No, okay, it wasn’t that bad).

Craig Davidson on 05.29.06 @ 02:54 PM EST [more..]

Monday, May 22nd

Other Things that Frighten Me, Their Antecedents and Effects

Hi All,

First off, I made an interesting discovery about the song I'm currently running into the ground---'Where'd You Go,' by Fort Minor. It's a great tune (it's one of the guys from Linkin Park), but, listening to it for the 200th time or so, I said to myself, I said, "Where have I heard this before?" It starts off with this really great piano riff (I'm a big piano guy; I play a MEAN air-piano on the edge of my desk) and then segues into this hand-clappy, beat-boxy overlay; then there's the singing, and rapping, and what-all. So like I said, I listened it for about 5 hours straight while writing and went, "Hey, I know where that piano lick comes from---it's 'Closing Time,' by Semisonic!" Then I listen some more and went, "Hey, I know where that hand-clappy overlay comes from---it's 'Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand' by Primitive Radio Gods!" Now don't get me wrong, it doesn't dampen my enjoyment of 'Where'd You Go?'; I just wonder now, with all the sampling going on, wether I love songs genuinely, or love them because they steal from other songs I've loved. Queue those three tunes up on Limewire (or buy them like a law-abiding schmuck) and give it a listen---you'll see! I feel like such a musical gumshoe---fitting, one might say, since this is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's birthday. Or one might say I'm a moron and have too much time on my hands. In both cases one would be correct.

Hey, what happened to Semisonic, anyway? Or Primitive Radio Gods, for that matter? Or Chumbawumba?

He drinks a whiskey drink, he drinks a vodka drink, he drinks a lager drink, he drinks a cider drink...

...he's buying government cheese with his one-hit wonder royalties.

That's not very nice. My apologies to Chumbawumba. But really, that band had, like, 30 group members or something. They had, like, the jug-blower, the washboard-player, the guy with cymbals between his knees. That's gotta spread the royalties kind of thin, don't you think, especially for a one-hit wonder? I mean, at least Right Said Fred only have to split their 'I'm Too Sexy' royalties two ways; that'll keep them in scalp polish and fishnet tee-shirts for life. And Gerardo gets to keep every penny for "Rico Suave" for himself. If I'm Chumbawumba, right now I'm thinking, "Did we REALLY need the zither player? Did we really need that guy who clapped his hands? The, like, trio of maracas players---were they really necessary to our, uh, SOUND?"

Well, this was only supposed to be a very short preamble to the main part of my post (the subject line of which I've left unchanged), but since I've meandered on, as I have a tendency to, I will simply make this my post and log back on in a few days to talk about other things that have frightened me.

Danny Boy, Danny Boy, Danny Boy... (Did Chumbawumba really need the woman who sang that line?)

And here are a few other tunes I'm currently running into the ground:

'Save Me'---Bird York
'Bonnie and Clyde II'---Martina Sorbara
'Black History Month'---Death From Above 1979
'Downtime'---Ghandarvas
'Carefree Highway'---Gordon Lightfoot
'High School'---Jeremy Fisher
'Redemption Song'---Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros
'One Safe Place'---Marc Cohn
'Red Right Hand'---Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
'The Things I do For Money'---Northern Pikes
'Werewolves of London'---Warren Zevon (I saw a Werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's / His hair was perfect)

All best, Craig.
Craig Davidson on 05.22.06 @ 05:24 PM EST [link]

Tuesday, May 16th

Narcissistic Personality Disorder?

Hi All,

I've been doing a lot of research-reading lately in the field of religion. I went to the library and checked out copies of the Bible, the Koran, and The Book of Mormon; the librarian looked at me like I was a kook, as if she was thinking, "What---can't make up your damn mind?" Anyway, I just finished reading Jon Krakauer's excellent UNDER THE BANNER OF HEAVEN, which deals with a murder in the fundamentalist Mormon communities in Utah. Excellent book.

Towards the end they get to the trial, where these religious zealot brothers are put on trial for murdering a woman and her daughter to fulfill a "blood oath" as per God's orders. The idea of narcissistic personality disorder is brought up to explain why religious fanatics do what they do; basically, in order to do such horrible things, they had to feel---or convince themselves---that they were somehow above the law, and that the rules as such did not apply to them, because they were God's chosen people and the only law they need answer to was Holy Law, and since they were God's messengers, or the hammer of his Divine justice or whatever, they adopted this mindset.

Narcisstic personality disorder is distinguished by: "...a pervasice pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy or behavior), need for admiration, and lack of empathy..., indicated by five (or more) of the following:

1. An exaggerated sense of self-importance...

2. Preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love...

3. Believes that he or she is "special" and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people...

4. Requires excessive admiration

5. Has a sense of entitlement...

6. Selfishly takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends...

7. Lacks empathy

8. Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her

9. Shows arrogant, haughty, patronizing, or contemptuous behaviors or attitudes

Craig Davidson on 05.16.06 @ 09:04 PM EST [more..]

Sunday, May 14th

Star Lawrence and David Davidar

Hi All,

Quick post here. Strangely, both my North American editors, Starling Lawrence at WW Norton and David Davidar at Penguin Canada are, in addition to their roles as editors, fine writers. I think this is a fairly rare occurrence; it would seem that, though one job benefits the other to an extent, I wouldn't think there are enough hours in the day to be both editors and writers. In any case, they are.

David's first book, THE HOUSE OF BLUE MANGOES, came out a few years ago, and it's wonderful. A sprawling multi-generational saga set in India---David was once publisher of Penguin India---it's a great read. I read it last summer and passed it on to my Mom, who also enjoyed it. He's working on another book as I write this, to be published...? I don't know. But THE HOUSE OF BLUE MANGOES is fantastic.

Starling has written three books; his third, THE LIGHTNING KEEPER, was just released this month. I have not read it yet, but I've read his collection, LEGACIES, and his first novel, the historical drama MONTENEGRO, both of which were marvelous. Both David and Star are, as you might imagine, pretty daunting individuals---at least in my estimation, as a first-time writer they've taken a chance on. But they're great guys, great writers, and if you haven't checked out their work, I highly recommend it.

This link is to a NY Times piece on Starling that I ran across today, which was the impetus for me writing this post. American aristocracy, they call him. I don't know how he'd feel about that, but certainly the history brought up in the article would seem to bear that notion out.

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/13/books/13star.html

All best, Craig.
Craig Davidson on 05.14.06 @ 02:22 PM EST [link]

Wednesday, May 10th

THE FACE THAT CANNOT BE PHOTOGRAPHED

Hi All,

Today I received an email from Mathieu, a French photographer who I met at the International Festival of Authors last October. He was assigned to take photos of all the authors, which would’ve been a pretty mammoth task, considering there were hundreds of us; like locusts, we were!

Anyway, he asked if I wanted a few photos for promotional purposes or what-have-you, and I said sure, why not; interviewers are always asking if I’ve got a photo to post along with an interview, and I usually direct them to this blog, to the “tough guy” shot up there in the far left corner, which was taken, I believe, by my father in his garage (those black rectangles behind me are the glass windows of my parents’ frou-frou garage door), and, as I’ve said, it’s as good a shot of me as you’ll find.

So Mathieu graciously sends me a link to his website...

www.mathieu-bourgois.com

...and I go check my photos out. Ye gods—what an abject horror show! I’m all red-schnozzed and bleary-eyed and rumpled. I look like a defrocked priest with a serious drinking problem. And I’m wearing my Dad’s old deerskin jacket, which I love but everyone else seems to hate. I dearly love that jacket—it makes me feel like Lightning Jack—and it was strange, when I was in Toronto, the reaction it got: when my agent or publicist saw me in it, they were like, “Ooooh, what an interesting jacket,” and I, feeling really good about the jacket, really the cat’s ass, was unable to fathom that when they said ‘interesting,’ what they probably meant was ‘horrendous and retina scarring.’ Or perhaps they actually SAID horrendous and retina-scarring, but I was so keen on the deerskin that their words went through some fanciful translation inside my head and I heard ‘interesting.’

But then my buddies and brother came to visit, and they were like, “You are not walking the streets in that thing.” And I took deep umbrage, I was like, “Hey, I’m a writer; we’re allowed to be eccentric.” And they said, “That’s not eccentric; that’s a sign of mental illness.” It was like the deerskin was a tuberculosis-ridden blanket or something; if they were seen in my company while wearing it, our whole group would be shrouded in a haze of terminal uncoolness. Needless to say, this disappointed me, and I’m sure it will disappoint my father somewhat; but the thing was, when my Dad wore it, it WAS cool; I think it will be cool again, and I’m going to hold onto it until that day comes. It’s hanging in my closet like Superman’s cape, ready for action.

Craig Davidson on 05.10.06 @ 02:51 PM EST [more..]

Saturday, May 6th

Novel Done (Basically)

Hi All,

Well, I may be finished THE FIGHTER. Maybe. Can't say for sure. I had until Monday to get my finalized draft to my editor, but she will undoubtedly have a few minor suggestions, probably not more than a day's worth of work. So I'm finally ready---almost---to become a productive member of society again; of course, my other editors will want to take a look, but since it's set to be pubbed in Canada come October, there is not much time for big changes, and quite honestly I don't know that I'm up to making them. So, almost done. Maybe...maybe...all done.

Craig Davidson on 05.06.06 @ 06:04 PM EST [more..]