Ed Briant

The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson

My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Beautiful, whimsical, and poetic. Seventeen year-old Lennon comes to terms with death, sex, and the mixed fortunes of musicians. Nelson’s prose has a tumbling syncopation that calls to mind the improvised sax solos of John Coltrane, hip-hop, and early Beatles’ singles.

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Last week I was introduced to two authors named Wallace.
On Monday I asked my illustration students to design a series of three book-jackets for three books by one author of the students’ choice.
The most successful of these were three beautiful jackets for books by Daniel Wallace, the author of BIG FISH (also RAY IN REVERSE and THE WATERMELON KING). I saw BIG FISH as a movie a few years ago, but never really took note of the fact that it was based on a novel.
The same evening my GF and I were scrolling through downloadable movies on Netflix when I came across the title BRIEF INTERVIEWS WITH HIDEOUS MEN.
Being a hideous man myself I thought I might enjoy the movie.
BRIEF INTERVIEWS turned out to be one the strangest and most thoughtful movies I’ve seen in a long while, and one that reveals itself backwards.
Without giving too much away, the premise is that, for her dissertation, a Columbia grad student, almost without any comment, records a dozen or so men talking about how they relate to women.
It’s a short, but compelling narrative, and only as the titles roll is it revealed that the film is based on the book of same name by David Foster Wallace.
I now have my spring break reading:
3 books by DANIEL Wallace (Big Fish, Watermelon King, and Ray in Reverse), and phone-book sized tome––INFINITE JEST by the late David Foster Wallace.

One of my favorite things about teaching is that I get to do demos. These are done with Open Acrylics.

Tonight (Sat Feb 20th) I will be reading, and showing some sketches from my current work-in-progress, TOBY’S MOJO, a Young Adult story about a 14 year-old bass player who discovers, to his horror––right before his first ever gig––that his MOJO is not working. He has three days to get it fixed.
My reading will be part of the Savannah Pecha Kucha event at SPACE Gallery, 9 West Henry St. Savannah.
Pecha Kucha started in Tokyo a few years back. Each participant shows 20 slides, and has 6 minutes for a presentation. The slides are advanced one-at-a-time every 20 seconds. Seems tailor made for graphic novels.
As for me, I will be trying to fix not only my MOJO but also my weird accent in the hope that the audience will be able to understand some of what I’m saying when I read.
All profits from tonight’s event will go to benefit Haiti.

I think that ballpoint pen is fast becoming my favorite drawing tool.
Unlike a micron pen, you can get a black (or a blue, or a green, or a red) line and a variety of grey lines of varying widths.
Unlike a quill pen you don’t have to carry around a bottle of indian ink, which leaks all over your other drawing tools if you don’t screw the top on tight enough, and if you screw the top on tight enough, you then need a wrench to get it off again the next day when the ink dries in the thread of the top.
Unlike a pencil, you don’t need to carry either a sharpener, which doesn’t sharpen, or an exacto knife, which is confiscated when you board a plane (I also know someone who harpooned his best friend when he gave her a hug and had an exacto knife in his jacket pocket.
The craziest thing of all is that you can pick them up anywhere: in hotel rooms, workshops, stores, and so forth.
So here’s to ballpoint pen, probably the most under-rated and under-used drawing tool of all.
Personally I think we should follow the Brits and Australians and start referring to them as “Biros” after their inventor Laszlo Biro.

In honor of Presidents Day, the Daily Beast has a feature on the best-read US Presidents.
You’ll have to forgive me but, not being and American, I didn’t grow up learning this stuff.
Thomas Jefferson, for example not only read in French, Italian, and Spanish, he also invented a revolving book stand so that he could read five books simultaneously.
Based on some of your choices of national leaders (the previous incumbent for example) we Brits think we’re just a little smarter than you Americans. That being the case who is the best-read British Prime Minister?

At what point does a rambling fragment of writing become the basis of a novel?
For no explicable reason I woke up at 5AM last Friday and began writing. Four writing days later I have about 30 pages of a text. There’s repetition, over-use of adverbs, and enough bad pronoun references to give my old tutor, Jane Resh Thomas, a caniption.
To be honest I think the whole thing was clutching at straws on Friday morning, but on Friday night I went to see A SINGLE MAN, the Tom Ford/ Colin Firth flick based on the eponymous Christopher Isherwood book. Much of the movie was narrated by Firth using Isherwood’s text.
It’s funny how a few well-chosen sentences can re-kindle your love of words, especially when they’re delivered by Colin Firth.
Obviously I’m not claiming that the quality of my own prose bears any resemblance whatsoever to that of Isherwood’s.

This is the new member of our household. She (I think she’s a SHE) appeared last Monday and found a place in all of our hearts––well, all of us except for one of the dogs, but I think it’s just a matter of time.
The problem is that none of us can think of a name for her. Anyone have any good cat names?
The only one I could come up with is TIDDLES which seems a little prosaic for such a Zen-like entity.

August 2009: We stop at Gritty’s on the way back from Monhegan.
Right then I don’t think I have enough cash for sodas to go with their chicken fingers so I say to my daughters, Rachel and Tali, “Can you make do with water?”
“Anyone who becomes an artist is stupid,” Rachel folds her arms and scowls at me. “I’m going to go to Dartmouth and get an MBA. I’m never going to be poor.”
Jan 2010: 14 year-old Rachel shows me her portfolio. This mournful self-portrait was my favorite.
Artist? Or MBA? Hmmm.
Maybe both.

Getting off a plane at Newark Airport, and then jumping into a rental car is not a feat for the faint-hearted. Driving in New Jersey can be––let’s say––different, and you need to re-learn some of the basics.
One of the most important things to know about driving in New Jersey is the correct use of the horn.
1. Using The Horn at Traffic Signals.
The lights turn green and you honk at the car in front of you, correct?
No. Wrong. To show that you’re really a Jersey driver you need to refine your touch with regard to this matter.
A real Jersey driver waits for the car in front to begin moving, and then gives him a quick 3-5 second blast.
Simple in essence, but it still needs just the right touch. Honk too early and you might just be a reasonable, but impatient New Yorker in a hurry. Leave it too late and the car in front might think you’re honking someone else. Or even worse you’re a Georgia driver who’s hit the horn by mistake while leaning across to check your Glock is in the glove compartment.
2. Honking at a Car at an Adjacent Intersection.
Once you’ve got the hang of the above, this one should be a snip. You’re driving on a major road and a car pulls up at an intersection ahead of you. You give them a quick beep to make sure the other driver has seen you, and doesn’t pull out in front of you.
Wrong?
You make sure the car at the intersection has come to a full stop, and then give it a brief 5 second tap on the horn. Late at night in residential areas you should honk for 10 to fifteen seconds. If the driver does pull out in front of you you’ll need lots of witnesses.
3. Honking At Someone Behind You.
Think you’re a real Jersey driver now? Can you honk at the car behind you?
Try it. Not so easy.
I’ve only managed to master one version of this important method of using the horn.
Pull over to the side on a busy road.
Turn off the lights and straighten the wheels, but keep the engine running.
Wait for a small-ish car to approach.
Wait until you see the whites of the driver’s eyes, then in one move turn the wheel, switch on the lights, and pull out right into the driver’s path.
As soon as you’ve blocked the lane, come to a stop and honk for 5 seconds.
Congratulations. You’ve honked at a car behind you, and you are now a Jersey driver.
To celebrate, wind down your window and invite the other driver to consider himself “totally f—ing stupid.”