Hey Girl, Don’t Worry, I’ll Cook Dinner

Posted on January 30, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

By Dell Smith

Beyond the Margins finally persuaded Dell Smith’s good friend Ryan Gosling to take time out of his busy schedule as an Internet meme to shine a little love our way. Give it up for a very special…Literary Ryan Gosling.

 

 

Continued at Beyond The Margins

 

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Book Titles: The Inside Scoop

Posted on January 24, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

 

“My definition (for myself) of a working title is: A title that doesn’t work.” Robin Black

Picture having a baby. You named that baby so soon after conception. Dear little Lev. It’s the Russian version of your father’s name. It has great meaning. Birth! The nurse places him in your arms. She smiles. Than she says, “Change his name. He sounds too much like a Jewish cowboy.”

For the effort most authors put into titling their book, you’d think they’d get to see it splashed across the cover—but an overwhelming amount of us are told by our editors, “Love the book, hate the title. Find another one.”

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Coming Attractions: THE BAKERS DAUGHTERS by Sarah McCoy

Posted on January 22, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

No matter what is written, blurbed, or said about a new book, it’s only upon reading those first few pages that I know if I will sink in. So, how nice to be able to present that most important part of an about-to-release book—unadorned—the first pages, leading you to the first chapter. 

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Coming Attractions: THE FLIGHT OF GEMMA HARDY

Posted on January 19, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

No matter what is written, blurbed, or said about a new book, it’s only upon reading those first few pages that I know if I will sink in. So, how nice to be able to present that most important part of an about-to-release book—unadorned—the first chapter. 

The Flight of Gemma Hardy by Margot Livesey

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Reading Across the Racial Divide

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

 

 “In the last few years, black writers have been speaking out about double standards in the world of publishing. Among these are Martha Southgate’s NYT essay, “Writers Like Me” and more recently, Bernice’s MacFadden’s Black Writers in A Ghetto of the Publishing Industry’s Making. In these articles, both writers (who also are novelists) put into a public conversation the issues that black writers have been complaining about for years– like why is that stories about black folks that are written by white folks get so much traction. (The Help, The Secret Lives of Bees, Little Bee, etc.) How come books about us by us are not thought to be “universal”? Why are black faces on the cover of a book thought to be so alienating? At this point in the gripe session, I break out my favorite oh-no-he-didn’t moment– when someone asked me what percentage of my work is “black” and what percentage is “human.””

Since reading this post on author Tayari Jones’ blog, it hasn’t left my mind. She asks why books by black writers aren’t considered universal, starting her post with these words:

It’s not only a great post, it’s an important question for all readers and writers. For readers: you/we are missing a vast store of great books by staying within one’s cultural boundaries. We’re missing great reads, and as

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The (Home) Walk of Shame: Work-at-Home-Clothes

Posted on January 4, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

It’s funny how folks who work at home (writers, painters, composers, phone-sex workers, though not those who use Skype visuals) will so often use “working in my pajamas! as their number one perk.

But is it really true?

Is it still true when you realize, as you hear the truck coming down the road, that the day has come when not even the UPS delivery person can see you. (See above.) You look down at your old pink fleece pants that are too short and rise way above your ankles, topped by a too-small purple tee shirt that your daughter left at home (but that you wear for the same reason you wear anything these days: it’s comfortable.)

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Working With Batterers

Posted on January 3, 2012 by Randy Susan Meyers

71043938For ten years I co-led groups for violent men. I sat in a circle with a male co-leader and anywhere from 8 to 18 men who’d been violent with their wives, girlfriends, dates, sisters, or another woman in their lives.

Their violence ran the gamut from emotional abuse of the most devastating sort, to smacking, to slapping, to punching, pushing, prodding, to breaking bones to murder (thankfully not many.)

This was a Certified Boston Batterer Intervention Program. Most men were ordered into the program by the Massachusetts courts, some by the Department of Social Services, and a few were volunteers—or as we called them, wife and girlfriend-ordered.

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Wishing Peaceful Holidays for All

Posted on December 23, 2011 by Randy Susan Meyers

“No matter how big a nation is, it is no stronger that its weakest people, and as long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there to hold him down, so it means you cannot soar as you might otherwise.”
Marian Anderson

“Peace begins when the hungry are fed.”
Anonymous

“The love of one’s country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?”
Pablo Casals

“If it’s natural to kill, how come men have to go into training to learn how?”
Joan Baez

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Is Santa This Jewish Girl’s Robert Redford?

Posted on December 20, 2011 by Randy Susan Meyers

There are so many Jewish people who grow up warm and secure in their faith, those for whom the eight days of Hanukah don’t have to compete with Christmas: Jewish nurses and firefighters who take Christmas Eve shifts to ensure that their Christian brethren are home for the holidays. These are the lucky Jews with traditions of Chinese food and a movie on Christmas.

I wasn’t one of them.

I grew up with my nose pressed right up to the glass.  Like any other bird, blind to the barrier between the glowing scene inside and me, I banged and banged until my nose almost broke.

There were no Hanukah traditions in my house. (I get teary and jealous when I hear Adam Sandler sing his Chanakuh song.) Naturally I longed for the sparkles of Christmas. One year my sister and I even hung stockings. What were we thinking? That the keys to the kingdom lay in our old limp socks? Mom was out on a date; we stayed up as late as possible, until, exhausted, we went to bed giddy with the prospect of what would be spilling out the tops of those socks. We didn’t know what Christmas stockings were supposed to hold, but boy, we knew it must be pretty darn special for the entire world to talk about it—Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas,

(I’m sure my poor mother either didn’t notice the socks, or cursed Jill and I for leaving our clothes all over.)

As a teen, I went out with my similarly disposed Jewish friend, Debbie, bought a tiny Charlie Brown-pathetic tree on

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Posted in Childhood, Cultural Icons, My Life | Tagged | 22 Comments

Shop Local: Find a Little Miracle

Posted on December 19, 2011 by Randy Susan Meyers

My daughter, in for the holiday, came home from shopping at our local shopping area in Jamaica Plain, Boston, and realized all her presents were missing. After much consternation, emotionally and monetarily, (she’s a social-worker & bartender—not much flowing in) she went back to ask the stores if they’d seen anything.

The first store, Fire Opal, offered to let her replace everything she’d bought and pay when she could. At the second store, Boing, she learned that people had been in the store looking for the person who lost presents, (hoping they’d paid with a credit card so they could contact them.) My daughter had paid with cash, so the person went to the next store whose bag was represented, Kitchen Witch.

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