Once Again, Falling Behind in My Reading

Wednesday was warm, humid and windy, a strange and unsettling combination. On Lake Leelanau the wind was churning up whitecaps early in the day. The marine forecast today is for one- to two-foot waves on Lake Michigan.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve added anything to my “Books Read” list. One reason is my usual hopping from one book to another, with four or five going at once. I haven’t finished one in a while. Besides that, it’s summer. Summer for me is high work gear as well as high social gear, not to mention gardening. (Winter is my primary reading season.) But a third reason is that, after years of saying I never would, I’m reading Stendahl, and I’m reading Le rouge et le noir in French, lucky to get through a few short chapters each night before being overtaken by sleep. I’ve never been a speed reader, even in English, and my pace is considerably slowed in French. Hope all those reasons together form a sufficient explanation. It’s all I’ve got to offer.

What did I expect The Red and the Black to be about? Armies on the field? No, the main character is an untried but ambitious provincial adolescent who finds himself raised above his father’s station in life because of his Latin studies, and the mother of the young children whose tutor he becomes falls head over heels in love with him. What makes this so fascinating is the way the author presents the interior reality of these two characters, showing the vast ocean of difference in their feelings over one and the same small event. Their two souls definitely do not beat as one; both are tormented but for very different reasons.

And then along come—what else?—about 20 boxes of “new” old books for Dog Ears, and I am instantly undone, yielding to The Burning Forest: Essays on Chinese Culture and Politics (1985), by Simon Leys. He begins the Culture section this way:

Chasing bits of truth is like catching butterflies: pin them down and they die. ‘As soon as one has finished saying something, it is no longer true.’ This observation by Thomas Merton could serve as a warning for the reader and should indicate the proper way of perusing this little essay.

In Chinese classical studies, it is necessary to specialize. It is also impossible.

...China is an organic entity, in which every element can be understood only when put under the light of other elements,,,,

It’s hopeless. He had me with the butterflies.



Down by the creek, Canadian anemones. “Anna-moans” is how I first pronounced this word as a child, finding it in a book. With the accent on the second syllable, the word trips off the tongue, as the blooms dance, whether in sun or dappled shade.

July Offering: Fields of Color

Must open first, though, with the announcement that Elizabeth Buzzelli’s second Emily Kincaid mystery, Dead Floating Lovers, arrived at last and is available at Dog Ears Books in Northport. (If you missed the first book, Dead Dancing Women, we have that, too.) Elizabeth will be in town two weeks from today, speaking at the Leelanau Township Library at 7:30 p.m. She has a light-hearted approach to murder fiction that may surprise but will certainly delight the audience, once again.

Now for the color. Today is Bastille Day, and I could celebrate by re-posting my 4th of July flowers, since France’s flag uses the same colors as ours, only saying their names in another order, bleu, blanc et rouge rather than red, white and blue. It ‘s the 120th anniversary of the Tour Eiffel. I am, however, very much here in Leelanau County, and after almost complaining of summer’s monochromatic green landscape the other day, it is only just that I give center stage to fields of July color here where I live.

Trust painter David (we call him the Master of Color) to find these vistas so close to home! With Bruce in the bookstore yesterday and Woody on duty for the gallery, I’d driven up to the nursery for more plants and taken them home to plant in the early afternoon, but David insisted I drop everything and take a ride with him to “see something worth seeing.” Disappointed that the “something” was not horse-related (but reassured by his statement that it had nothing to do with cars, either), I went along, mystified. He circled around the long way and, as we approached the scene from the bottom of a hill, told me to close my eyes. “Now open them.”




Worth it, yes?

A Darling Little Breeze

That’s what there was early this morning, and woven into it was birdsong and perfume of fresh-cut hay and summer's first blooming milkweeds, sweetest floral bouquet I know. The sun was already warming the air at 7:30, but the breeze was soft, gentle, cool, and the whole Up North world still seemed refreshed after Friday night’s thunderstorm. I'll admit that I was refreshed after Saturday evening's time-out in the hammock and a good night's sleep afterward.


Cherries are ripening, fields being cut so hay can be raked and baled. Besides alfalfa, though, many other leguminous plants are flowering these days, modestly performing their nitrogen-fixing miracle as there were nothing to it. With eighteen thousand species in this family, their variety should be no surprise. Here are just a few from my early morning weekend walks and drives, these from field, orchard and roadside.







Sometimes the green of summer reminds me of winter's white expanses, in that the camera is confronted with an almost monochromatic landscape. Looking for the color, I move in closer, and that reminds me that I promised to post a link to a photography contest on a blog from Nova Scotia. If you've never before yearned to visit the Maritime Provinces, "Flandrum Hill" will plant that desire in your heart. Entering the contest requires that you post (details here) five images to correspond, either literally or metaphorically, to the "Five Elements" Earth, Water, Fire, Wood and Metal.

As it turned out, the book of the day on Saturday at Dog Ears Books was definitely Jim Harrison’s In Search of Small Gods. It seemed to call out to everyone who passed the table, and so far the feedback is everything I expected. This is my favorite of all Jim’s books, ever, so I'll close today's post with a few lines:

This small liquid mouth in the forest
is called a spring, but it is really
a liquid mouth that keeps all of the secrets
of what has happened here, speaking in the unparsed
language of water, how the sky was once closer
and a fragment of a burned-out star boiled its water.
-- from the poem "Spring" in the book In Search of Small Gods, by Jim Harrison

"What Evil Lurks...?" Murder Takes a Road Trip

Elizabeth Buzzelli, a popular visitor to Northport (she gave a writing workshop at Dog Ears Books two years ago and spoke at the Leelanau Township Library last summer), will be back in town on July 28 as part of this year's Tuesday evening summer series at the library. Buzzelli and two other Up North writers have also put together a summer tour of their own--and here I'm taking the lazy way out and quoting directly from their publicity:

What do three crime-writer friends from northern Michigan do when they each have a new book out?
Take a road trip!

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli (DEAD DANCING WOMEN), Mardi Link (WHEN EVIL CAME TO GOOD HART), and Aaron Stander (SUMMER PEOPLE) are taking a road trip to bookstores and libraries around Northern Michigan to meet readers, sign books, and talk about writing. They've called their excursion "Murder Takes A Road Trip."

All three authors live in Northern Michigan, all three write fact or fiction related to crime and mystery, all three have new books coming out this summer, and all three use the evocative landscape of Northern Michigan as the settings for their books.

To date "Murder Takes A Road Trip" will visit seven libraries and bookstores between July and October, with additional dates still being added. The full schedule is:

July 22, Bellaire Public Library, Bellaire, MI
July 23, Suttons Bay District Library, Suttons Bay, MI
July 25, Horizon Books, Petoskey, MI
July 29, Benzonia Public Library, Benzonia, MI
Aug. 8, Elk Rapids Library, Elk Rapids, MI
Oct. 10, Cadillac Wexford Public Library, Cadillac, MI
Oct. 15, Peninsula Community Library, Traverse City, MI

About the authors:

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli wrote last fall’s northern Michigan best selling DEAD DANCING WOMEN.
The second in the Emily Kincaid series from Midnight Ink, DEAD FLOATING LOVERS, was just released this month. She teaches writing in the adult education program at Northwestern Michigan College, and at Skidmore College during the summer. Her first foray into mystery was GIFT OF EVIL, from Bantam. She reviews books for the Northern Express and is a member of the Michigan State Library’s Notable Books Committee. You can read more about Elizabeth on her website, www.elizabethbuzzelli.com.

Mardi Link is the author of two true crime books, the Heartland Bestseller, WHEN EVIL CAME TO GOOD HART, and the forthcoming ISADORE'S SECRET, both published by The University of Michigan Press. A former police reporter, Mardi is a freelance journalist and the 2008 Antioch Non-Fiction Scholar, as well as the winner of their Goddess Award. She is a co-founder of ForeWord magazine and her work has appeared in Publishers Weekly, Bellingham Review, Dunes Review, and The Bookseller, among other publications. You can learn more about Mardi on her website, www.mardilink.com.

Aaron Stander spent most of his adult years in the Detroit area, where he taught writing and trained writing teachers. In 2000 he and his wife left college teaching positions and moved permanently to their cottage near Traverse City. Aaron is the author of SUMMER PEOPLE, a mystery set in Northern Michigan; COLOR TOUR, a sequel, was released in July of 2006 and DEER SEASON was just released this month. He is also the author of numerous articles, stories, poems, and reviews, and the host of the radio program, Michigan Writers On, a regular program broadcast on Interlochen Public Radio. You can learn more about Aaron on his website, www.aaronstander.com.

News in Brief, Thursday

Morning broke sunny and clear over town and country. Cherries are coming on, gaining color, looking good.


Up at Northport Nursery, now part of S&J Landscaping, annuals are on sale at 30% discount. One shopper buying a colorful hanging basket said, “They just make me happy.” I splurged on some perennials for the sidewalk garden at home that I’m adding to bit by bit, as funds permit.

Here’s a story from this morning’s “Shelf Awareness” newsletter:

When Twenty-third Avenue Books, Portland, Ore., closed suddenly last January, Stephanie Griffin lost more than her business. Willamette Week reported that the owner "became homeless after the store closed. Startled neighbors discovered this in June . . . Griffin had started panhandling outside her old store, which was still empty at the time."

"Most people would ignore me and then say 'Oh, the bookstore used to be there,'" she said. "I would say, 'I used to own that store,' and they would keep walking."

Do I need to comment on this story?

Finally, at Dog Ears Books: The new Dunes Review is here—new book of poetry by Jim Harrison—and a new, challenging Petoskey stone jigsaw puzzle. We have Aaron Stander’s and Bob Underhill’s new murder mysteries and should have Dead Floating Lovers, the new Emily Kincaid mystery by Elizabeth Buzzelli, next week. (Elizabeth will be a presenter in the Leelanau Township Library summer series on Tuesday, July 28, 7:30 p.m.) There are postcards this year of Northport harbor that say Northport on them (by popular and frequent request). We have Chief Waukazoo: From Roots to Wing, by William Van Appledorn. And, as always, much, much more, so come in and browse and buy and keep your Up North bookseller off the streets. (Ha! Just couldn't resist.)

Roses, Everywhere

In my garden, in town, in the wild jungle along our no-name creek, even in the bank here in Northport, roses are blooming everywhere. Will there be any left for the dog parade on August 8? This year’s theme, always eagerly awaited, has been announced: “The Kentucky Dogby: A Run for the Roses.” Now, put on your thinking caps and think dogs and roses!


Cherry Festival in Traverse City is coming up roses, too. David and I saw the midway in its early morning quiet guise as we passed by along the bay on our way to the WTCM station on East Front Street. We also heard on the car radio about the wine-tasting event coming up this Thursday, Friday and Saturday in Traverse City. But we were in town because I was a guest on Ron Jolly’s Wednesday feature, “Entrepreneur Spotlight,” and by arriving early we had time for a leisurely coffee at Horizon Books before the show, because--where else would a bookseller go for morning coffee? But wait—I know, I know! Entrepreneur? Moi, le philosophe? Well, I do have my own business, and it is 16 years old (or, as I like to say, 112 dog years), and Ron is a book person and loves Northport, so it was a pleasant and enjoyable conversation, over too quickly. David, listening on the car radio outside, was impressed with the number of times he heard the words “Dog Ears Books in Northport” on the radio. Thanks again, Ron and Kimber!


The drive along Grand Traverse Bay was lovely, as always.

Then Jamie at the Northport Bay Dog and Cat Company had a cancellation, so Sarah had her little paws, fur and toenails, trimmed up neatly. No more scruffy feet! She’s beautiful again! Thanks, Jamie!

Life is good Up North.

Always Going Back and Forth--

--In time, that is. The weekend could not have been lovelier—not too hot, not too cold, sunny and clear. Friday, Saturday and Sunday of the holiday weekend, all sunny and glorious, meant long days at work, conversations with interesting people, and quiet, tired evenings at home. One new resident described his first 4th of July fireworks in Northport with the words “as good as anything I’ve seen on the Mall.” He meant the Mall in Washington, D.C. A pretty high compliment.

Sunday afternoon at the Dog Ears Books and Painted Horse Gallery space included a free live concert by the Weatherheads from Grand Rapids--a real treat for bookseller, browsers and customers--and a visit from gallery dogs Dusty and Shane, the latter (5 months old) being one of Sarah’s new favorite playmates.



Between book sales, conversations and puppy lessons I started to think ahead to being on the radio Wednesday morning (a little after 8:30 a.m.), talking with Ron Jolly on WTCM 580 AM.

And yet, somehow, sometime during the weekend I stole a few moments to dip into some fascinating books of the past, too.

Augustine Sirrell’s Obiter Dicta (Second Series, so presumably there was a first) is a set of essays on topics related to books and literature. Besides disquisitions on Milton, Pope, Johnson, Burke, Lamb (Charles, of course, an old favorite of mine) and Emerson, the author muses on the subject of book-buying, leading off with the statement that sensible book purchasers will look to the secondhand shops, as all good new books, if worth anything at all, “one day will be second-hand.” Having captured this bookseller’s attention, Mr. Sirrell goes on to ask whether there is “any substance in the plaint that nobody now buys books, meaning thereby second-hand books?” I was interested to see that this question--I’ve heard the claim “No one reads books any more” since my first summer as a bookseller, back in 1993, always made by people who are readers and book buyers--has been around at least since 1887. Another modern complaint, this one made by bargain-hunting book collectors, is that the Internet has done too good a job educating country booksellers, so I was intrigued by a similar complaint (the author’s own) from the late 19th century:

The enormous increase of booksellers’ catalogues and their wide circulation amongst the trade has already produced a hateful uniformity of prices. Go where you will it is all the same to the odd sixpence. Time was when you could map out the country for yourself with some hopefulness of plunder. …Those days are over.

Oh, boo-hoo! How sad that struggling those provincial booksellers’ shops can no longer be “plundered” by the canny urban visitor!

The library book sale was Saturday morning in Northport, and I picked up a couple of volumes no doubt being de-acquisitioned because the information is now accessible online. (I could look for it online, too, but enjoy turning pages.) One is Early Ohio Settlers, the other Ohio Cemetery Records. My father’s family came from Ohio, so looking up family names was my first move; the second, less self-interested, was to read through tombstone inscriptions. Here is one of my favorites:

Make use of present time
Because you must
Take up your lodging
Shortly in the dust.

There’s good, plain, blunt speaking! Or engraving. Graving? Engraving gravestones? Another:

So fades the lovely, blooming flower,
Frail smiling solace of an hour;
So soon our transient comforts fly,
And pleasure only blooms to die.

The anonymous authors of these two verses looked at identical evidence, it seems, and drew opposite conclusions. Both stress the brevity of life, but the second writer would have us, because life is short, not attach ourselves to it, while the first advises us rather to gather rosebuds while we may. Make the most or the least of it? Does one make a choice to see living in one light or the other, or do our temperaments decide for us? I would argue with the claim that “pleasure only blooms to die.” The “lovely, blooming flower” does not bloom only for the sake of blooming but for the sake of seeds produced, future plants, future flowers—a whole, wonderful continuity of which each stage is, in its turn, fully present.


One of the best ways I know to “make use of present time” in summer is to sit quietly outdoors in the evening, watching insects dance in the last sunlight, listening to the birds’ songs grow sleepy as light seeps away. There is the song sparrow! Not singing “to die” but because it is alive, now!