Last Friday, I met an author whose work I first encountered more than a decade ago.
When I was single and still fancied myself a regular reader, I tried to keep up with the latest literary sensations. The name Junot Diaz was one I encountered in, of all places, the pages of the Quality Paperback Bookclub’s monthly mailing.
The promotion worked. I bought Diaz’s short-story collection, Drown, and soon had a coworker tell me that Diaz’s stories had appeared in the New Yorker, and that Drown collected some or all of those works. Diaz’s star was on the rise, and reading Drown, it was easy to see why. These days, I can’t remember the details of the stories, but I remember their impact. This guy was great, and he gave me a perspective—that of a Dominican immigrant—that I hadn’t been previously exposed to. The language and content could be rough, but the style was superb. I most appreciated the way Diaz’s Drown reinvigorated (only temporarily, as it turned out) my love of the short story.
Years went by, and I heard nothing about Diaz. I Googled him from time to time, and was shocked to find not the slightest hint that Diaz had something else in the works. I honestly thought the man might have died.
Then, a couple of months ago, a breakthrough: news that Diaz had a novel on the way. It’s out now. Maybe you’ve read about it? The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is getting some strong reviews.
When I found out Diaz would be stopping by a local Borders last Friday, I worked things out so I could attend. I brought my beat-up paperback copy of Drown and joined a group of about 40 people as we listened to Diaz read two selections from his new novel. I’m not sure Diaz is the best reader of his own material, ironically, but I was rapt nonetheless.
I waited in the back of the line to get my copy of Drown signed. It took a while. Diaz patiently, and joyfully, chatted with his fans while signing their books. When I finally made it to the man himself, I sheepishly told him, “I’m not buying your book right now. Sorry.”
“That’s cool,” he replied, brushing off my embarrassment.
“But,” I said, “I’ve been waiting 10 years to have you sign this,” and I handed him my copy of Drown, which, with its brown tones on the front cover, differs from other editions of the book that some in the audience had him sign. Those editions have the same cover image, but a swath of green where I have brown.
Sensing that he might think—correctly—that finances were part of what was prohibiting my purchase of his new novel, and with him noting that my edition looked slightly different from the others he'd seen that night, I said to Diaz, “I got this one from the Quality Paperback Bookclub for $1.”
“QPB!” he laughed. “I love QPB!”
Then I asked him whether someone who’s as well known in literary circles as he is was at all impressed or surprised by the New York Times review linked above. “I can’t imagine a bigger rave,” I said to him.
His eyes widened. He looked genuinely overwhelmed. At this point, the review was only a few days old. “It changed our lives, man,” he said, still clearly absorbing the impact of the review.
“Really?” I said. “Does it mean more publicity?”
“Who cares about publicity?” he said, waving off the notion. “It’s my peers, and the other writers I know and admire” he said. “The phone’s been ringing off the hook with congratulations.”
That comment might look haughty in print, but it was said with an air of graciousness, a profound sense of completion, and a hint that his world had just changed for the better. I was happy for him.
We’d made a connection. He scrawled something on the title page, I grabbed my book and shook his hand, and I was gone.
I got home, opened the book, and saw these words: “Christian: Ten Years And Counting, Junot Diaz”
Thinking I might not understand the reference when I stumbled onto the signature years from now, I added “Borders, Bailey’s Crossroads, 9/7/07” in the bottom corner.
Then I re-read one of the stories in Drown, and was reminded of why this guy is so brilliant.
Soon thereafter, I put The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao on hold at the library, which is in the process of acquiring copies of the novel. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to it.
Full Version: A Week Ago, I Met Junot Diaz
I don't plan to link to many stories related to Diaz's latest book, but I came across this interview, which is littered with profanity but has some movie- and literature-related commentary that may be of interest to A&Fers. An excerpt:
But there was a bunch of nerdy stuff I had to go back into. I had to actually watch some of the movies that the narrator and the protagonist were obsessed with, so I found myself watching a lot of crazy movies.
What were some of the movies?
Oh man, things like Zardoz, which is like one of John Boorman's early films. I found myself watching Virus, which is this really crazy American-Japanese production. You know, I found myself reading The Lord of the Rings three times back-to-back. I would finish it and start it again and finish it and start it again. It's so I would have it f--king locked in my head in the way the narrator and protagonist would have it locked in their heads, you know? There's a lot of crazy stuff. I went back and had to read all this H.P. Lovecraft and all the E.E. "Doc" Smith Lensman books. I found myself really just doing a lot of f--king nerdy reading. Again I can't stress how easy the history stuff was. I have a good memory for historical marginalia.
It's interesting, though, a lot of the historical research, especially the mythologies involved in the story, just goes hand-in-hand with the nerdy stuff.
Fanboys will go out of their way, they'll bend over backwards to swear to God that J.R.R. Tolkien has no racist elements, which is hilarious. In some ways I'm equally committed to both cultures, but I'm an artist, so try to avoid being too much of a partisan. And the same thing, you watch a movie like 300, and it's f--king hilarious. If you talk to fanboys that are into this, they swear to God that the fact that all the villains are black is not a problem. And yet those of us who exist in the real see how problematic that is, so in some ways it's not as if I have a sense that one side or the other is superior. I think each of them have an extremely strong blind spot and that neither proved entirely satisfactory to me as an author or to me as a human being. I feel like I had to lay down ten or eleven or twelve different sheets of acetate for the little hole in my eye; the blind spot became less and less and less.
But there was a bunch of nerdy stuff I had to go back into. I had to actually watch some of the movies that the narrator and the protagonist were obsessed with, so I found myself watching a lot of crazy movies.
What were some of the movies?
Oh man, things like Zardoz, which is like one of John Boorman's early films. I found myself watching Virus, which is this really crazy American-Japanese production. You know, I found myself reading The Lord of the Rings three times back-to-back. I would finish it and start it again and finish it and start it again. It's so I would have it f--king locked in my head in the way the narrator and protagonist would have it locked in their heads, you know? There's a lot of crazy stuff. I went back and had to read all this H.P. Lovecraft and all the E.E. "Doc" Smith Lensman books. I found myself really just doing a lot of f--king nerdy reading. Again I can't stress how easy the history stuff was. I have a good memory for historical marginalia.
It's interesting, though, a lot of the historical research, especially the mythologies involved in the story, just goes hand-in-hand with the nerdy stuff.
Fanboys will go out of their way, they'll bend over backwards to swear to God that J.R.R. Tolkien has no racist elements, which is hilarious. In some ways I'm equally committed to both cultures, but I'm an artist, so try to avoid being too much of a partisan. And the same thing, you watch a movie like 300, and it's f--king hilarious. If you talk to fanboys that are into this, they swear to God that the fact that all the villains are black is not a problem. And yet those of us who exist in the real see how problematic that is, so in some ways it's not as if I have a sense that one side or the other is superior. I think each of them have an extremely strong blind spot and that neither proved entirely satisfactory to me as an author or to me as a human being. I feel like I had to lay down ten or eleven or twelve different sheets of acetate for the little hole in my eye; the blind spot became less and less and less.
I promised not to link to every story about this guy, but when you open up your morning paper and stare at a major feature on the writer, you're under some sort of obligation, right?
Read all about Diaz's "inner nerd."
Read all about Diaz's "inner nerd."
Have you read his new book yet? I keep seeing rave reviews for it-- as well as his earlier short story collection.
What a great story about meeting him. Thanks for sharing it!
Peter
--
PETER WALLACE
Blog: http://peedub.com
Work: http://Day1.org
Book: http://www.churchpublishing.org/index.cfm?...p;ProductID=746
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A1UFK...1986028-6531128
Myspace: http://myspace.com/petermwallace
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=794385556
What a great story about meeting him. Thanks for sharing it!
Peter
--
PETER WALLACE
Blog: http://peedub.com
Work: http://Day1.org
Book: http://www.churchpublishing.org/index.cfm?...p;ProductID=746
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A1UFK...1986028-6531128
Myspace: http://myspace.com/petermwallace
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=794385556
QUOTE(Christian @ Sep 14 2007, 02:42 PM) 
Last Friday, I met an author whose work I first encountered more than a decade ago.
When I was single and still fancied myself a regular reader, I tried to keep up with the latest literary sensations. The name Junot Diaz was one I encountered in, of all places, the pages of the Quality Paperback Bookclub's monthly mailing.
The promotion worked. I bought Diaz's short-story collection, Drown, and soon had a coworker tell me that Diaz's stories had appeared in the New Yorker, and that Drown collected some or all of those works. Diaz's star was on the rise, and reading Drown, it was easy to see why. These days, I can't remember the details of the stories, but I remember their impact. This guy was great, and he gave me a perspective—that of a Dominican immigrant—that I hadn't been previously exposed to. The language and content could be rough, but the style was superb. I most appreciated the way Diaz's Drown reinvigorated (only temporarily, as it turned out) my love of the short story.
Years went by, and I heard nothing about Diaz. I Googled him from time to time, and was shocked to find not the slightest hint that Diaz had something else in the works. I honestly thought the man might have died.
Then, a couple of months ago, a breakthrough: news that Diaz had a novel on the way. It's out now. Maybe you've read about it? The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is getting some strong reviews.
When I found out Diaz would be stopping by a local Borders last Friday, I worked things out so I could attend. I brought my beat-up paperback copy of Drown and joined a group of about 40 people as we listened to Diaz read two selections from his new novel. I'm not sure Diaz is the best reader of his own material, ironically, but I was rapt nonetheless.
I waited in the back of the line to get my copy of Drown signed. It took a while. Diaz patiently, and joyfully, chatted with his fans while signing their books. When I finally made it to the man himself, I sheepishly told him, "I'm not buying your book right now. Sorry."
"That's cool," he replied, brushing off my embarrassment.
"But," I said, "I've been waiting 10 years to have you sign this," and I handed him my copy of Drown, which, with its brown tones on the front cover, differs from other editions of the book that some in the audience had him sign. Those editions have the same cover image, but a swath of green where I have brown.
Sensing that he might think—correctly—that finances were part of what was prohibiting my purchase of his new novel, and with him noting that my edition looked slightly different from the others he'd seen that night, I said to Diaz, "I got this one from the Quality Paperback Bookclub for $1."
"QPB!" he laughed. "I love QPB!"
Then I asked him whether someone who's as well known in literary circles as he is was at all impressed or surprised by the New York Times review linked above. "I can't imagine a bigger rave," I said to him.
His eyes widened. He looked genuinely overwhelmed. At this point, the review was only a few days old. "It changed our lives, man," he said, still clearly absorbing the impact of the review.
"Really?" I said. "Does it mean more publicity?"
"Who cares about publicity?" he said, waving off the notion. "It's my peers, and the other writers I know and admire" he said. "The phone's been ringing off the hook with congratulations."
That comment might look haughty in print, but it was said with an air of graciousness, a profound sense of completion, and a hint that his world had just changed for the better. I was happy for him.
We'd made a connection. He scrawled something on the title page, I grabbed my book and shook his hand, and I was gone.
I got home, opened the book, and saw these words: "Christian: Ten Years And Counting, Junot Diaz"
Thinking I might not understand the reference when I stumbled onto the signature years from now, I added "Borders, Bailey's Crossroads, 9/7/07" in the bottom corner.
Then I re-read one of the stories in Drown, and was reminded of why this guy is so brilliant.
Soon thereafter, I put The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao on hold at the library, which is in the process of acquiring copies of the novel. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to it.
When I was single and still fancied myself a regular reader, I tried to keep up with the latest literary sensations. The name Junot Diaz was one I encountered in, of all places, the pages of the Quality Paperback Bookclub's monthly mailing.
The promotion worked. I bought Diaz's short-story collection, Drown, and soon had a coworker tell me that Diaz's stories had appeared in the New Yorker, and that Drown collected some or all of those works. Diaz's star was on the rise, and reading Drown, it was easy to see why. These days, I can't remember the details of the stories, but I remember their impact. This guy was great, and he gave me a perspective—that of a Dominican immigrant—that I hadn't been previously exposed to. The language and content could be rough, but the style was superb. I most appreciated the way Diaz's Drown reinvigorated (only temporarily, as it turned out) my love of the short story.
Years went by, and I heard nothing about Diaz. I Googled him from time to time, and was shocked to find not the slightest hint that Diaz had something else in the works. I honestly thought the man might have died.
Then, a couple of months ago, a breakthrough: news that Diaz had a novel on the way. It's out now. Maybe you've read about it? The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao is getting some strong reviews.
When I found out Diaz would be stopping by a local Borders last Friday, I worked things out so I could attend. I brought my beat-up paperback copy of Drown and joined a group of about 40 people as we listened to Diaz read two selections from his new novel. I'm not sure Diaz is the best reader of his own material, ironically, but I was rapt nonetheless.
I waited in the back of the line to get my copy of Drown signed. It took a while. Diaz patiently, and joyfully, chatted with his fans while signing their books. When I finally made it to the man himself, I sheepishly told him, "I'm not buying your book right now. Sorry."
"That's cool," he replied, brushing off my embarrassment.
"But," I said, "I've been waiting 10 years to have you sign this," and I handed him my copy of Drown, which, with its brown tones on the front cover, differs from other editions of the book that some in the audience had him sign. Those editions have the same cover image, but a swath of green where I have brown.
Sensing that he might think—correctly—that finances were part of what was prohibiting my purchase of his new novel, and with him noting that my edition looked slightly different from the others he'd seen that night, I said to Diaz, "I got this one from the Quality Paperback Bookclub for $1."
"QPB!" he laughed. "I love QPB!"
Then I asked him whether someone who's as well known in literary circles as he is was at all impressed or surprised by the New York Times review linked above. "I can't imagine a bigger rave," I said to him.
His eyes widened. He looked genuinely overwhelmed. At this point, the review was only a few days old. "It changed our lives, man," he said, still clearly absorbing the impact of the review.
"Really?" I said. "Does it mean more publicity?"
"Who cares about publicity?" he said, waving off the notion. "It's my peers, and the other writers I know and admire" he said. "The phone's been ringing off the hook with congratulations."
That comment might look haughty in print, but it was said with an air of graciousness, a profound sense of completion, and a hint that his world had just changed for the better. I was happy for him.
We'd made a connection. He scrawled something on the title page, I grabbed my book and shook his hand, and I was gone.
I got home, opened the book, and saw these words: "Christian: Ten Years And Counting, Junot Diaz"
Thinking I might not understand the reference when I stumbled onto the signature years from now, I added "Borders, Bailey's Crossroads, 9/7/07" in the bottom corner.
Then I re-read one of the stories in Drown, and was reminded of why this guy is so brilliant.
Soon thereafter, I put The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao on hold at the library, which is in the process of acquiring copies of the novel. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to it.
QUOTE(Peter Wallace @ Oct 10 2007, 09:48 AM)
Have you read his new book yet? I keep seeing rave reviews for it-- as well as his earlier short story collection.
It's waiting for me at the library. I'll pick it up tomorrow, and I plan to dive right in.
I just learned Diaz will be a guest on tomorrow's broadcast of Fresh Air.
I'm 70 pages into the novel. It deserves all the praise it's getting.
I'm 70 pages into the novel. It deserves all the praise it's getting.
Winner of the National Book Critics award. I missed this news, which broke last week.
Good heavens, People! No one has read this book yet?
I checked out the audio. Came across it at a new library and was delighted to discover that the audio of Diaz's short story collection, Drown, is also on the Oscar Wao audiobook. I hadn't planned to listen to Wao again -- I was going to go straight to Drown -- but I stuck in Disc 1 and, after adjusting to the reader, got hooked again.
If anyone has read it and wants to discuss it, I'm game.
I checked out the audio. Came across it at a new library and was delighted to discover that the audio of Diaz's short story collection, Drown, is also on the Oscar Wao audiobook. I hadn't planned to listen to Wao again -- I was going to go straight to Drown -- but I stuck in Disc 1 and, after adjusting to the reader, got hooked again.
If anyone has read it and wants to discuss it, I'm game.
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