Last Book Talk of the Year

Please join me at the Hollis Social Library on Thursday, November 12, at 7:00 p.m. to hear about some of the experiences you've read about in this blog, and see some items mentioned in the novel you can only see in person (such as McKenzie's Japanese textbook and Gaby's sandalwood fan). Free, open to the public, open to Q&A. I hope to see you there!

BURN & LEARN

In honor of International Time Travel Day (November 5) and its founder, I roll the clock back 17 years to Okinawa in 1992 and a rare glimpse of Eric Paul Shaffer, author of the just-released Burn & Learn in the middle of making sandwiches for a beach outing. Literature Sandwiches, a chapter in his brilliant and lively episodic novel, claims: "A sandwich in literature usually appears only as a structural device and hardly ever as an edible item on a menu of fiction, following the tradition of the many meals ordered in the movies and never eaten." His sandwiches, however, are not props--they are the real thing, to be chewed on, relished, and digested, same as Burn & Learn. Those of you who follow this blog know Eric as my Fuji Hiking Pal, Parking Sign Prankster, and photographer of many photos with me in them. Now, get to know him as a writer: startling, provocative, with mustard spread to the edge.

On Sara's Dove Bar Habit

My name--and method of eating mini-Dove Bar ice cream treats--has been immortalized on the cover of The American Mathematical Monthly (Nov 09). It turns out my little system was an interesting probability problem which my boyfriend and two of his math cohorts solved and published. You see, the dark chocolate covered ones only come in a box with half chocolate, half vanilla ice cream. I prefer vanilla, so if I draw a chocolate one from the box, I give it to Dave to eat and draw another for myself, which I will eat whether it's the superior vanilla or inferior chocolate. The computation determines how many chocolate bars per box I end up eating. For the solution, turn to p.831. As Dave said, "you create problems for me." With my name in his article on the cover of AMM, we are now officially famous.

Unlucky Ticket

And here's my losing ticket. I bet a hundred yen on racers 2 and 5 in the 5th race. The date is written year/month/day. The year is not the Western calendar year but the Japanese calendar year. Year 1 starts with each new emperor, so this was year 5 of the current emperor Akihito's reign, also known as 1993. It was July 10th, a typical muggy summer day in Shizuoka. If you have excellent vision, you might see a watermark pattern of yellow Mt. Fujis under the printing.

At the Track in Shizuoka

Here I am at Shizuoka's race track with a good friend, displaying my bet before the race. The race featured bicycles, not motorcycles as in American Fuji, but my description in Chapters 21 and 22 is much as it was: a large tunnel of concrete to enter and exit, hot metal benches, cigarette smoke, and that "abandoned plastic cup of beer" that Alex tripped over (p. 243). The atmosphere was friendly, and another (unseen) friend taking the photo won 2,000 yen which she spent on coffee and treats for the three of us. We enjoyed being "tough" women, venturing into a decidedly male venue.

Interview with Motherlogue

Click on the title to read my latest interview, with Liz Sheffield on her blog Motherlogue. Liz moved to Japan in 1993, the year I left, and lived in Sapporo until 1995; in 1997 she went back for another year on the island of Shikoku. She grew up in Portland, Oregon (Gaby's home town) and now lives in Seattle (Alex's home town) so she has personally experienced all the geography of American Fuji! We talked about preparing to live in Japan, meeting yakuza, the process of writing the novel, and what I miss most.

U Mass Lowell Reading Oct. 28

70 people came to my and David Daniel's reading on a wet and rainy afternoon in Lowell. The audience was mostly students, but also some professors and published local authors. Mega-doumo to all who came, and to the Literary Society and English Department for sponsorship and support.

Octopus Balls

Eguchi says eating takoyaki is a tourist requirement for a visit to Japan. Here is a behind-the-counter look at how deep-fried octopus balls are made. I admire the hand labor that goes into chopping, shaping, and coating the octopus tentacles, and how quickly these women worked in such a small space. I tried takoyaki more than once, but found them too tough and rubbery to chew well enough to swallow. They are about the size of golf balls, and close to what I would imagine a golf ball would taste like. Not for me.

Marubatsu's Pond

This is one of the ponds that inspired my fictional pond at Marubatsu's temple Gizenji.

from American Fuji, p. 351: "The water was opaque pea-green and looked like paint. The surface, perfectly still. A herd of tiny granite islands jutted up through the pea soup, some rusty with moss, others bare."

It's interesting that Japanese readers find the character of Marubatsu a familiar type of person they readily recognize, yet my American readers think he's the most unrealistic of my characters. The only thing about him that's inauthentic is his name. I named this Buddhist priest after a kind of test: true (maru) false (batsu).

Spanish Edition Cover

I just received a copy of the new (July 2009) Spanish edition of American Fuji pubished by Emece, an Argentinian company. I think it captures the essence of the novel well. El monte Fuji era casi invisible en el verano pero, en los dias claros, ella veia esa silueta grandiosa y gracil dominando el cielo del norte.

Clueless on Campus

This is me at my university office desk in 1991. I knew to answer the telephone with "moshi, moshi" but after that I had no idea what the caller was saying so perhaps I should not have answered. Notice the old rotary style phone. Even in 1991, phones had gone to buttons and I was surprised that Japan was not up to date. The tall metal closet behind me held my coat and shoes. Since I walked or biked to campus, I wore walking shoes each way and kept a couple pairs of heeled pumps in the office to put on when I arrived. This was regarded as odd, but oddly acceptable.

Green Tea

From my apartment, I walked or biked to the university and took this shortcut through green tea fields. These photos were taken on different days, before and after trimming, and from different directions. In Shizuoka, sidewalks were narrow or non-existent, so this stretch of my walk was a welcome relief from motor traffic.

NEIBA Trade Show 03 Oct 2009

The long, rainy drive to Hartford, Connecticut was worth every tense moment on the turnpike. Here I am at the new Connecticut Convention Center wearing my orange author's badge. Inside the ballroom, I browsed tables full of interesting books and met book lovers who could talk about anything from Kafka to kashi. It was my first chance to meet the Penguin sales team, and I must say they made me proud to be a Penguin author. Special thanks to the folks from Worcester (my home town) who are happy to have American Fuji back in print and to Rachel for the photo. Go Indies! Go books!

One-Eared Rabbit with Pink Shoelaces

This photo was taken in front of a store on Gofukucho Street in downtown Shizuoka. Lester takes Alex for a walk on Gofukucho Street after lunch at Skylark (Chapter 12). In American Fuji, Lester has his own way of remembering the street's name.