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"Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead." Gene Fowler penned this observation, and most writers published and hopeful would agree with him.

Each time a new book hits the market that can help the aspiring writer, this is cause for rejoicing. One of them just might be the tool that puts that hard-working scribbler into print.

This month there are two worth noting: The Forest for the Trees: An Editor's Advice to Writers by Betsy Lerner and A Writer's Book of Days: A Spiritual Companion & Lively Muse for the Writing Life by Judy Reeves. Both are worth picking up, for very different reasons.

While each offers practical advice, the Reeves book has holistic insights into the creative process. Let's look at the inspirational first, for many writers need encouragement more than practical advice.

A Writer's Book of Days is a guide of prompts to get you going. Reeves is a cheerleader who writes, I found that it's easier to begin the writing when a prompt is supplied. The book, truly a book of days for writers, contains a writing-practice topic for every day of the year, such as for January 13, After midnight ; December 26, Write about something sacred ; and April 12, Dubious intentions. Many writers have the best intentions upon sitting down, but feel they lack something to write about. Reeves directs that desire to write by offering daily topics daily, and then encouraging the writer to take them wherever their own personal response leads. Just write! Make mistakes who cares when you're practicing your writing? She offers lots of writing tips in an easy-to-use format, and includes many quotes from other writers, including this one from Natalie Goldberg: Don't just put in your time. That is not enough. You have to make a great effort. Be willing to put your whole life on the line when you sit down for writing practice. Developing a writing habit and a writing style is what's important. Not talking about it.

Betsy Lerner's book, The Forest for the Trees: An Editor's Advice to Writers, takes a different approach. She's a veteran editor and publishing insider, and when she writes about the relationship between publishers and writers, the reader feels privileged, as though forbidden secrets were being divulged on how to get published.

She believes that the best editors must work with the writer, not just the writing, much as Maxwell Perkins did with Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Wolfe. In fact the title of this book, The Forest for the Trees, comes from a Perkins quote as he was writing to Marcia Davenport.

Lerner's book is not a how-to-write book. Instead she offers advice from the all-important editor's perspective on how to finish a project when all looks hopeless, on what to do when your neuroses get in the way, on how to break through a between-projects stall. The first half of the book addresses The Writer, The Writing. It's broken into chapters such as The Ambivalent Writer, The Natural, The Wicked Child, The Self-Promoter, and The Neurotic. The second half of the book deals with the publishing process, including up-to-date answers to the questions that all writers have about the interaction between themselves and publishers and agents. She discusses the recent mergers of publishing conglomerates; online bookselling, downloading books from the Net, and more. Lerner is good because she can see what the writer sees, and moves from there to what the author needs to see. She understands delusion. Her book encourages clear-sightedness when writers deal with publishers.

So, all you writers out there, finish reading about other writers' success, and go to work. One day at a time. Every day. Write. Write. Write.

And read good books about writing.

George Cowmeadow Bauman is the co-owner of Acorn Bookshop in Columbus, Ohio.

"Writing is easy; all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead." Gene Fowler penned this observation, and most writers published and hopeful would agree with him.

Each time a new book hits…

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When it was first published, the anonymously-authored Primary Colors–an obvious roman a clef about the Clintons–triggered a national guessing-game about the author's true identity. Appropriately, the Washington Post wound up outing Newsweek columnist Joe Klein (following Klein's blanket denials, to his comrades in print, that he was the author). The controversy didn't end there. When the bestseller went into production as a movie, there were raised eyebrows and barbed comments from pundits. After all, a mutual love-fest exists between the Clintons and Hollywood. Thus, the latest chapter in the Primary Colors saga concerns the book's "softening," so as not to offend the First Couple. Little wonder, since director Mike Nichols and screenwriter Elaine May are known as Clinton supporters. Even Joe Klein whose book sold to Hollywood for $1.5 million has been downplaying parallels between print and real life, saying his book isn't really about the Clintons. Never mind that the deftly-written political satire, about a Southern governor running for president in 1992 amid scandalous headlines of marital infidelities is clearly based on the travails of you-know-who.

Actually, not everyone is balking about the obvious similarities. John Travolta, who stars as the book's womanizing (and idealistic) candidate, readily admits he went for a "Clinton-esque illusion," with mimicked speech patterns, hair color and style, and physicality. Not that the popular, likable icon is going to play a bad boy. As he puts it in a George magazine interview, "You'd have to be dead not to see the script favors Clinton."

One thing is certain: the release of the movie adaptation couldn't be more timely, what with the ongoing headlines regarding the latest sex scandal to plague the presidency. Still, for an unbridled "take" on the political scene, it's near-impossible to top the original source material, Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics still credited to "Anonymous", narrated by actor Blair Underwood. What, you were expecting Travolta to do the honors?

The ubiquitous John Travolta will topline yet another adaptation of a best seller Jonathan Harr's A Civil Action. Due later this year from Touchstone Pictures, it's based on the real life account of attorney Jan Schlichtmann, who in the early eighties initiated a civil suit against two of the country's largest corporations on behalf of the families of young leukemia victims. (Over a period of years, the companies W.R. Grace and Beatrice Foods had disposed of a cancer-causing industrial solvent by dumping it into the water supply of Woburn, Massachusetts.) A riveting page-turner, Harr's book gives readers a front-row seat to courtroom theatrics and infighting providing a meticulous look at the intricacies of our legal system, and all its flaws. As for the film version: no word, yet, on how it will differ from what's in print but expect the usual PR blitz, as befits Travolta's leading man status.

For a look back at the early Travolta when he was in his singing, dancing prime there's Frenchy's Grease Scrapbook, a behind-the-scenes look at the making, and the after-life, of the 1978 hit film Grease. A tie-in to the movie's 20th anniversary reissue, it's an innocuous reminder of the Eisenhower era, when everything including politics seemed so innocent.

When it was first published, the anonymously-authored Primary Colors--an obvious roman a clef about the Clintons--triggered a national guessing-game about the author's true identity. Appropriately, the Washington Post wound up outing Newsweek columnist Joe Klein (following Klein's blanket denials, to his comrades in print, that…

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From the late 1930s through the early 1960s, Partisan Review was the most influential literary and cultural journal in the United States. The editors, Philip Rahv and William Phillips, and their circle of writers and critics composed the core of the group often described as the New York intellectuals. Contributors during those years included many of the leading writers of the day from this country and Europe. Among the many writers whose work was published there: T.S. Eliot, Wallace Stevens, Marguerite Yourcenar, George Orwell, Ralph Ellison, Saul Bellow, Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Penn Warren, James Baldwin, and Walker Percy.

PR was primarily a men's club, but there were some remarkable women who, through their extraordinary writing and ambition, were able to not only get their work published but also become prominent intellectuals. David Laskin explores the lives and careers of these talented yet different women in Partisans. Laskin focuses on the interconnected lives and careers of Mary McCarthy, Elizabeth Hardwick, and Hannah Arendt, and, to a lesser extent, on Diana Trilling and Jean Stafford. He also discusses the Southern novelist and short story writer Caroline Gordon, who was not part of this circle, but who, like her husband Allen Tate, had close ties to Northern intellectuals and had a significant influence on a new generation of writers.

The men who were editors, critics, partners, advisers, and husbands of these women included Rahv, Robert Lowell, Edmund Wilson, and Randall Jarrell. Drawing on correspondence, memoirs, and personal recollections, Caskin shows how complex their lives were. He does not romanticize them. They were all, in their way, crazy at times, he notes, mad in every sense but when they were sane they were extraordinarily brilliant, often charming people, most charming of all when they were with each other. They made serious mistakes in judgment, but, Laskin says, they had a zeal and idealism and originality that have all but vanished from the American political scene or migrated to its fanatical fringes. They were often fiercely competitive but they shared a sense of public responsibility.

How were women regarded by this group? In a sense the Rahv set had no women only wives and writers, and if a writer happened to be female, she became one of the boys. Being a wife in that crowd was a fate worse than death. Both women and men writers believed in marriage, but there was a contradiction. The men and women were intellectual peers and companions, but socially, professionally, and emotionally, the men came first. The husbands wrote; the wives did everything else the housekeeping, child rearing, entertaining, nursing, gardening and then wrote. And it never struck any of them to arrange things differently. The women's movement of the '60s changed things. For these women, they had won their first battle without fighting and lost the war without realizing there was one. They managed to get published and become famous, formidable intellectuals without challenging or offending the males who published them . . . But their unintended victory proved to be perishable, personal, bound up as it was with their own gifts, sway, charm, and intimate connections, powers of persuasion. This fascinating group biography gives us a most revealing look into the literary culture of a unique period in history.

Roger Bishop is a regular contributor to BookPage.

From the late 1930s through the early 1960s, Partisan Review was the most influential literary and cultural journal in the United States. The editors, Philip Rahv and William Phillips, and their circle of writers and critics composed the core of the group often described as…

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An invitation flutters out of the usual coupons, bills, and sweepstakes notices. Cousin Curtis's daughter, Sally the Scholar, is graduating this month; you can't remember if she's finishing grammar school, officer training, or clown college, but the invitation definitely reads commencement. What gift doesn't require bake sales, passing grades, or student loans? Why, books, of course!

A physics book? As a gift? If Sally or anyone else you know has a penchant for subatomic particles and chaos (theory, that is), then Physics in the 20th Century is the gift of choice. Author Curt Suplee, science writer for the Washington Post, explores the past, present, and future of physics, and readers will realize that matter . . . well, matters! Suplee's text includes practical, everyday applications, making physics accessible to all types of thinkers. Gorgeous photographs and digital illustrations, many presented as center spreads, make this a lovely display book as well. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill, ho-hum, college physics textbook.

Noel Coward was living proof that one needn't have only one profession. The sometimes-playwright, sometimes-painter, sometimes-composer was the definitive artiste of his time, and perhaps of this century. To celebrate what would have been Coward's 100th birthday, The Overlook Press has published Noel Coward: The Complete Lyrics. Editor Barry Day, who has authored several books on Coward, has compiled and annotated 500 songs, including many that remain unpublished and unknown. Plenty of photographs and illustrations, as well as background information from both Coward and Day, make this book an elegant gift for the well-rounded, sophisticated person in your life.

If your favorite graduate has chosen a less-than-traditional career path, The Virtuoso: Face to Face with 40 Extraordinary Talents will provide inspiration. Author Ken Carbone interviews folks like Henri Vaillancourt, canoe maker; Sylvia Earle, explorer; and Olympic gold medalist Nadia Comaneci, to name a few. Peppered with essays on the elements of virtuosity, The Virtuoso includes stunning photographs by Howard Schatz, who captures each virtuoso in perspectives that illustrate the marriage of occupation and soul. A gorgeous gift for those who dare to take the road less traveled.

Memorial Day and Armed Forces Day are both recognized this month, and Scholastic's Encyclopedia of the United States at War follows our country from the Revolution to the Gulf War. Tragedy and triumph are brought to life with photographs, illustrations, maps, eyewitness accounts, and other historical details of each war. Why did Anna Marie Lane receive a soldier's pension following the Revolution? And just how old was Johnny Shiloh when he fought in the Civil War? Famous battles are chronicled, and authors June English and Thomas Jones follow each war from start to finish. A wonderful gift for history buffs, military buffs, and students both young and old.

As the turn of another century draws nigh, William Morrow Books asked 25 women to recall their memories of the last turn of the century. The result is We Remember: Women Born at the Turn of the Century Tell the Stories of Their Lives. Brooke Astor, active as ever, recounts her heartaches and triumphs (between phone calls with her veterinarian); Martha Jane Faulkner, age 104 and the daughter of a slave, talks about moving north to the Promised Land of New York City, only to find it not-so-promising; Dr. Leila Denmark discusses her 70+ years of practicing medicine; and many other remarkable women reflect on what a difference a century makes. Includes a foreword by Hillary Rodham Clinton and timeline endpapers.

Is Sally someone who is destined to ask, What's behind Curtain #3? while wearing a tuxedo and/or evening gown midday? The Encyclopedia of TV Game Shows is the perfect solution. With a foreword by Merv Griffin, this reference book contains over 250 pages of entries, and dozens of appendices and photographs. It's fairly inclusive; you'll find information ranging from gameshow dynasties like The Price Is Right to gameshows that were merely blips on the screen (does anyone remember The Better Sex from the 1970s?). And did you know that Walter Cronkite, Hugh Downs, and Mike Wallace all served as gameshow hosts? A fun conversation piece, The Encyclopedia of TV Game Shows makes an ideal prize for departing graduates, departing contestants, and otherwise.

An invitation flutters out of the usual coupons, bills, and sweepstakes notices. Cousin Curtis's daughter, Sally the Scholar, is graduating this month; you can't remember if she's finishing grammar school, officer training, or clown college, but the invitation definitely reads commencement. What gift doesn't require…

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Bibliophiles got to read about a subject quite close to home themselves with the 1997 publication of Used and Rare. In it, married authors Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone chronicled their initial adventures and misadventures into the world of book collecting. Along the way, they encountered real-life characters that would make any fiction writer envious, and, through skillful narrative pacing, made reading about the hunt for musty secondhand tomes engrossing.

In Slightly Chipped—more of a companion volume than a sequel—the Goldstones actually surpass their first effort on the same subject. Now a bit more experienced, they improve on their story by visiting more of a variety of settings, from a library book sale to a seemingly staid rare book discussion group. The most memorable chapters chronicle an investigation into the almost cultish readers and collectors of mystery books (including a disastrous evening at the Edgar Awards) and their own quest to buy books at Sotheby's Duke and Duchess of Windsor auction.

The Goldstones also delve a bit deeper into the stories about the books and authors behind their purchases, including solid background information on Bram Stoker's Dracula and the various writings of the Bloomsbury group. The inclusion helps you appreciate their desire to own the books, and you can't help but feel involved in their successes and failures or want to read some of the books discussed. The weaknesses in this book are the same as in the first: a tendency toward axe-wielding and sniping at people they don't like; unsolicited reviews of specific bookstores, people, and businesses that may or may not be balanced and deserved; and a strange dwelling on the physical appearances of those the authors seem to consider unattractive.

Regardless, Slightly Chipped, like its predecessor, is a delightful, fresh journey. And even if you couldn't tell the difference between the Kelmscott Chaucer and a modern picture book, Slightly Chipped is a welcome addition to any collection.

Bob Ruggiero is a freelance journalist based in Houston, Texas.

Bibliophiles got to read about a subject quite close to home themselves with the 1997 publication of Used and Rare. In it, married authors Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone chronicled their initial adventures and misadventures into the world of book collecting. Along the way, they encountered…

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The Caldecott has been the Emmy of children's book illustrating since 1938, recognizing the year's most artistic and innovative picture book. Where do artists get their ideas? How do they translate these ideas into actual books? What changes do the original story and art undergo? How do illustrators feel when they hear they've won the big prize?

A Caldecott Celebration lets readers step into the studios of Robert McCloskey (Make Way for Ducklings), Marcia Brown (Cinderella), Maurice Sendak (Where the Wild Things Are), William Steig (Sylvester and the Magic Pebble), Chris Van Allsburg (Jumanji), and David Wiesner (Tuesday). Adding historical overview to the individual profiles, historian Leonard Marcus selected artists who represent different decades, starting with McCloskey in the 1940s to Wiesner in the 1990s. The volume also includes a complete list of Caldecott winners as well as a glossary explaining a few technical terms.

Art is the major focus here, including photos of each author and their dummies, preliminary sketches, and finished artwork. The transformations that take place between concept and final book are intriguing. For example, Where the Wild Things Are began as an odd, narrow little book shaped like a ruler, entitled Where the Wild Horses Are. At one point, Sendak wrote in his notebook, "ABANDON!!!! dreadful story!!" Thankfully, he didn't heed his own advice. He decided he didn't draw horses well, however, and enjoyed letting his imagination run free with Wild Things.

Marcus's short but wide-ranging discussion of each artist will appeal to both older school-age children as well as adults. Who couldn't help but be charmed to hear that for Make Way for Ducklings, McCloskey consulted with duck experts, studied duck specimens, and brought 16 ducks home for up-close study? (My friend, Elizabeth Orton Jones, the Caldecott winner for 1945, confirmed this.) And who would guess that the members of McCloskey's beloved Mallard family were not originally called Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack? Instead, they started out as Mary, Martha, Phillys, Theodore, Beatrice, Alice, George, and John. Would that family of ducks have won the Caldecott? Maybe not.

My only gripe about this lovely little book is that it isn't longer!

The Caldecott has been the Emmy of children's book illustrating since 1938, recognizing the year's most artistic and innovative picture book. Where do artists get their ideas? How do they translate these ideas into actual books? What changes do the original story and art undergo?…

With his peripatetic creativity, knack for comic improvisation and canny ability to draw out an actor’s best performances, Mike Nichols became one of the most acclaimed theater and film directors of our time. In the sprawling yet intimate Mike Nichols: A Life, Mark Harris (Pictures at a Revolution) captures the ups and downs, the enthralling highs and ragged despair, of the man whom Harris calls “the last of a certain kind of cultural celebrity—someone who could travel between film and theater, who understood art and politics and fashion and history and money, a man of the world and of his century.”

Drawing on 250 interviews with Nichols' friends and family, Harris traces Nichols’ rag-to-riches story, beginning with the immigration of 7-year-old Igor Michael Peschkowsky (Nichols' birth name) to New York from Berlin. From there the tale follows his father’s death when Nichols was 12, an allergic reaction that resulted in his hairlessness and his eventual move to Chicago, where he took the first steps toward his eventual success. Although he had enrolled as a student at the University of Chicago—where he met and developed lifelong friendships with Susan Sontag and Ed Asner, among others—he ultimately fell in with Paul Sills, who directed Nichols in the improvisation group the Compass Players, the forerunner of Second City. In Chicago, Nichols worked as a DJ at the famed program "The Midnight Special" on WFMT, and he also met Elaine May, with whom he developed a popular comedic partnership.

Eventually Nichols left Chicago for New York City, where he would direct in quick succession the plays Barefoot in the Park, The Odd Couple and Little Foxes to great acclaim. He then moved into film as the director of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and The Graduate. Harris artfully tracks Nichols' deep desire to work and to inspire others to embrace the power of theater and film. “Movies give us a chance to live other lives," Nichols said, "and we walk on the set every morning thinking, Anything can happen.

Candid, colorful and chock-full of detail, Mike Nichols: A Life is the biography that Nichols well deserves.

Candid, colorful and chock-full of detail, Mike Nichols: A Life is the biography that Nichols well deserves.

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Film historian Scott Eyman takes a fresh look at a movie legend in the sparkling biography Cary Grant: A Brilliant Disguise. Drawing upon extensive interviews and archival materials, including the star’s personal papers, Eyman shows that Grant (1904–1986), king of the romantic comedy and the very definition of dashing, was a man of contrasts forever troubled by his working-class past.

Born into a poor household in Bristol, England, Grant, whose real name was Archibald Leach, did not have a happy childhood. His father was an alcoholic. His depressed mother spent decades in an institution, while Grant was told that she was dead. At 14, he engineered his own expulsion from school in order to chase a career in show business. From stilt walking, acrobatics and pantomime in English music halls to American vaudeville revues and the Broadway stage, he didn’t stop until he’d landed in Hollywood.

In 1932, Grant made his first big film, Blonde Venus, with Marlene Dietrich. By 1939, he was a full-blown star. Absent-minded scientist (Bringing Up Baby), wisecracking socialite (The Philadelphia Story), ice-cold government agent (Notorious)—there was no bill he didn’t fit. During the late 1940s, Eyman writes, “Grant had first crack at nearly every script that didn’t involve a cattle drive or space aliens.”

But Grant’s past seems to have left him permanently scarred. Although he maintained a suave public persona and was widely cherished by friends and fellow actors, the truth about him was, of course, more complicated. As the author reveals, Grant had a reputation for stinginess and self-absorption and could be a mean drunk. On set, he was often anxious and tense.

Eyman’s consideration of the inner conflicts that drove Grant results in a wonderfully nuanced study of his life. Along with the star’s many marriages and bitter divorces, Eyman explores the rumors surrounding his sexuality and his LSD use, recounting it all in clean, unaffected prose. He mixes Grant’s personal story with several decades’ worth of Hollywood history, and his film analyses are eye-opening. Grant was “a man for all movie seasons.” They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

Film historian Scott Eyman takes a fresh look at a movie legend in the sparkling biography Cary Grant: A Brilliant Disguise. Drawing upon extensive interviews and archival materials, including the star’s personal papers, Eyman shows that Grant (1904–1986), king of the romantic comedy and the…

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As a boy growing up in Nuremburg, Germany, Martin Puchner was fascinated when vagrants came to their house, asking for food, guided by secret signs scratched into the house’s exterior—related, it turns out, to similar signs used by American migratory workers during the Great Depression. His father explained that these signs were part of an underground, mostly spoken language called Rotwelsch, a mixture of German, Hebrew and Romani languages. Puchner’s early fascination eventually led him to become a professor of English and comparative literature at Harvard University.

His father, uncle and grandfather had all been equally obsessed with this mysterious language, and exploring this fixation became key not only to understanding his family heritage but also to making peace with his German roots. After carting around boxes of his uncle’s Rotwelsch archives for 25 years, he finally began to investigate. An unusual, intriguing project, The Language of Thieves: My Family’s Obsession With a Secret Code the Nazis Tried to Eliminate is the result.

Puchner traces Rotwelsch’s roots back to the days of Martin Luther and finds modern-day speakers of a closely related variant in Switzerland. While such sweeping history is interesting, the crux of his story is personal. When his father enlarged a 1937 photograph of Puchner’s grandfather, he discovered that he wore a Nazi button on his lapel. Puchner tracked down his grandfather’s dissertation in Harvard’s Widener Library. He was shocked to discover that his grandfather had studied Rotswelsch as it related to the origins of Jewish names and recommended a registry of such names.

In later years, Puchner’s uncle tried to reinvigorate Rotswelsch, publishing translations of the Bible, Shakespeare and more—a project Puchner felt was a “doomed translation exercise.” Still, somehow the Rotwelsch “virus” continued from generation to generation.

While Puchner’s scholarly interests remain in focus, he writes clearly and thoughtfully, using history to examine past, present and future. While speakers of Rotwelsch have long been persecuted, he concludes that we should use its existence “as a reminder that our settled lives are not always possible, that there are people who are unsettled, whether from necessity or choice.” This and similar nomadic languages, he says, as well as their speakers, deserve our utmost respect.

As a boy growing up in Nuremburg, Germany, Martin Puchner was fascinated when vagrants came to their house, asking for food, guided by secret signs scratched into the house’s exterior—related, it turns out, to similar signs used by American migratory workers during the Great Depression.…

Art isn’t everyone’s thing, as art historian Jennifer Dasal is quick to admit in her new book, ArtCurious: Stories of the Unexpected, Slightly Odd, and Strangely Wonderful in Art History. But what she also points out, and what resonates throughout the text, is that art “is one of the few things that connects us profoundly to one another and reveals our common humanity.”

Dasal says that one of the best parts of her job is meeting fellow art lovers, but she likes “meeting committed non-art types just as much.” She used to be an “art doubter” herself and can relate to how they feel. On the path that led her to study art history, she became captivated by stories about what drives artists, what certain subjects and themes reveal about art collectors, how art was received in the past and how it’s perceived over time.

Art history is chock-full of quirks and mysteries, from murders and stolen masterpieces to rebels and hoarders. As a result, ArtCurious unspools like a juicy novel, detailing the backstories of several art history notables, their families, mentors, fellow artists, lovers and more. Organized into three categories—the unexpected, the slightly odd and the strangely wonderful—many of the characters are more than just artists. They are collectors, scientists and inventors, too. These eccentric geniuses hail from all over the globe, from countries with prominent places in art history, such as France and Italy, to relative newcomers to the art world like the United States. And they lived during a range of time periods, from Renaissance man Leonardo da Vinci to the ultramodern Andy Warhol. 

Dasal writes with humor and honesty, offering truth mixed with speculation. (There are some things we still don’t know, such as whether Vincent van Gogh killed himself or was killed by another person.) All this adds up to a fascinating, lively take on a topic that is too often reduced to dry facts. Art history buffs or anyone who likes a good thriller will find ArtCurious a welcome escape.

Art isn’t everyone’s thing, as art historian Jennifer Dasal is quick to admit in her new book, ArtCurious: Stories of the Unexpected, Slightly Odd, and Strangely Wonderful in Art History. But what she also points out, and what resonates throughout the text, is that art “is…

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What do Stephen King, Nancy Pelosi, Sting, Martha Stewart and Jon Stewart have in common?

They’re all cruciverbalists—that is, crossword fans. The ever-popular puzzle first appeared seemingly by accident in 1913, when Arthur Wynne introduced a new amusement because he had space to fill in the Christmas edition of the New York World newspaper. He called it a “Word-Cross Puzzle.” A transposing typo two weeks later called a subsequent brainteaser a “Cross-Word,” and the name stuck.

Adrienne Raphel takes readers on a deep lexical dive into the history and culture surrounding the beloved linguistic sport in Thinking Inside the Box: Adventures With Crosswords and the Puzzling People Who Can’t Live Without Them. Her enthusiastic account will appeal to all sorts of puzzle and word lovers, even those who are just dabblers. (Raphel calls herself a “hunt-and-peck” solver, admitting that she’s more of a Boggle fanatic.)

In lively chapters, Raphel constructs her own puzzle and submits it to the New York Times (no spoilers here on whether it’s accepted), visits fabled Times puzzle master Will Shortz, reports on a crossword puzzle tournament, delves into the puzzle’s history and evolution and crosses the Atlantic on a themed trip aboard the Queen Mary 2 celebrating the 75th anniversary of the New York Times crossword, which first appeared in 1942.

Ironically, the Times long resisted printing these puzzles, proclaiming in 1925, “The craze evidently is dying out fast and in a few months it will be forgotten.” There’s plenty of intriguing history there, and some of the most fascinating discussions involve puzzle-related issues of gender, race and class. As Raphel points out, “The crossword is black and white, but it’s very, very white. This monoculture seeps into the types of clues that appear in the puzzle, and the way that words get clued.” Happily, there are signs of progress, with the author noting that crosswords are becoming “increasingly woke.”

Raphel certainly knows how to write, coming up with sentences like, “The fifty-two-story New York Times skyscraper rises out of the grid of midtown Manhattan like a steel fantasy of a crossword, a study in squares and frosted glass.” At times the book is uneven, however, with certain chapters more engaging than others. Nonetheless, Thinking Inside the Box offers a unique crossword puzzle tour that will likely have you sharpening your pencil by book’s end.

What do Stephen King, Nancy Pelosi, Sting, Martha Stewart and Jon Stewart have in common?

They’re all cruciverbalists—that is, crossword fans. The ever-popular puzzle first appeared seemingly by accident in 1913, when Arthur Wynne introduced a new amusement because he had space to fill in…

Remember when Madonna moved to England and her accent became quite posh? According to David Shariatmadari, we shouldn’t scoff at the pop superstar, or at anyone else whose accent changes with their location. They can’t help it, thanks to a linguistic phenomenon called accommodation.

That’s but one interesting tidbit in the information-packed Don’t Believe a Word: The Surprising Truth About Language. Shariatmadari, a Londoner and editor at The Guardian, has crafted an intensive course for the curious novice and seasoned linguist alike. Via the book’s nine chapters, he explores and debunks common myths about language by way of history, scholarship, societal trends and his own passionate views on all of the above.

The biggest myth is one with teeth: Someone’s always complaining that language is in decline. It is not, the author says; rather, it’s just people making “statements of preference for the way of doing things they have become used to,” versus any actual damage to the way we communicate. He also argues that etymology, or the background and history of words, is not the only way to determine meaning. While those elements are fascinating, he writes, they’re largely irrelevant to what truly matters: “explaining language as it is now.”

Shariatmadari thoughtfully addresses the roles of politics, power and geography regarding how we speak, as well as which languages are considered valuable (or not)—most notably in regard to African American Vernacular English (AAVE). He also offers a history of the word toilet; explains why AI speech will never truly sound human; asserts that Italian is a dialect, not a language; ponders whether we can talk to animals; and much more.

Right now is an “exciting phase” in the study of linguistics, and Shariatmadari thinks we should be excited, too. After all, he writes, people “shouldn’t just settle for knowing how to use [language]. To understand it is to understand what it means to be human.” Don’t Believe a Word is a heartfelt and illuminating starting point on the path to that understanding.

Remember when Madonna moved to England and her accent became quite posh? According to David Shariatmadari, we shouldn’t scoff at the pop superstar, or at anyone else whose accent changes with their location. They can’t help it, thanks to a linguistic phenomenon called accommodation.

That’s…

In the middle of this book, I received an exasperated text from a friend. A male acquaintance, she said, had posted a comment under a picture on her social media in which he remarked that she looked “so much slimmer!” The post was about her Ph.D. work. “Isn’t it wonderful that we’re all just here to be commented on by men?” she said. “He has probably never been confronted with the idea that his opinion might not be inherently valuable.”

Indeed, this seems like a stunt that would earn the offender his own shining ribbon from Shelby Lorman in her new book. Funny, intelligent, weary and based on her popular Instagram account, Awards for Good Boys takes a critical look at the men whose actual treatment of women doesn’t quite jibe with the feminist politics they parrot. That male acquaintance that knows all the #MeToo jargon but feels entitled to a little something “more” after buying you a drink? He’s a Good Boy. The ex who texts you “just to check in” after you told him you needed space? Another Good Boy. The guy you’ve been seeing who insists that labeling human relationships is somehow ethically and morally wrong? A Good Boy several times over.

Though full of the cartoons that populate Lorman’s Instagram, the book resists simply being a pithy ode to the many potholes that exist in the female experience. Lorman writes sensitively about the behaviors that these acts of marginalization often prompt in women, conditioned as we are to make ourselves small. It can get a little uncomfortable when she describes back to you the many ways you’ve taken up the emotional labor for men, but she does so while speaking in the tones of your most sympathetic, self-aware friend. Drawing it all together at the end is an emotionally intelligent and compassionate conclusion to an argument you didn’t even realize that you were reading. The gift of Awards for Good Boys lies in the way it lightly bops you on the head with the clarity you need to see through the madness disguising itself as acceptable.

Funny, intelligent, weary and based on her popular Instagram account, Awards for Good Boys takes a critical look at the men whose actual treatment of women doesn’t quite jibe with the feminist politics they parrot.

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