Here’s one for the “People are Unfathomably Jerky” files: The former operations manager of the Oxford American allegedly embezzled some $30,000 from the magazine. The Oxford American is a high-quality, non-profit lit-mag based in Arkansas, and it’s certainly weathered some storms and shake-ups over the course of its existence (it has folded and re-launched twice). Now this. Sheesh. I mean, if you were set on robbing a business blind, Ms. Maxwell, couldn’t you have chosen a greedy, heartless corporation rather than a NON-PROFIT LIT-MAG THAT BARELY STAYS ALIVE AS IT IS?

What circle of hell should she be sent to, folks?

(Hat tip to Bookslut.)

With the entry onto the scene of Wilde Bar, a sort of bar-cum-library, Newcity Chicago takes on an old, old topic through a local prism: The link between writing and tippling. Popular bar-based series like the Dollar Store (now on “prolonged hiatus”) and RUI get cited, and then there’s the “bar vs. bookstore: which does lit-fans the best service?” debate:

“I think reading series at bars provide literate folks with a more interesting thing to do than watching sports while getting tanked,” says past RUI participant Kathie Bergquist. Bergquist is the author of “The Gay and Lesbian Guide to Chicago” and also the manager of Women and Children First Bookstore in Andersonville. She names Danny’s Tavern in Bucktown and the Hungry Brain as other great bars that host frequent readings, but acknowledges that they do pose somewhat of a threat to typical readings that don’t generally provide attendees with alcohol.

“I think that readings out at bars have an aura of being ‘sexier’ than bookstore readings, because there is liquor involved and the perception is that the content will be raunchier,” she says. “I think it’s a shame, in a sense, as there are so many great free readings going on at bookstores throughout the city at any given time that are not getting as much hype.”

But she notes that W&CF has had to up the alcoholic ante to entice people into the generally dry readings from touring authors.

“One way we are trying to compete with what we call ‘off-site’ reading events is by picking one or two funkier, sexier readings a month off of our schedule and offering wine, and often food, at them. An example of this is when we had free mojitos and Cuban food for the release of Achy Obejas’ new anthology, ‘Havana Noir.’ Or, if we are having a group reading with a bunch of local writers, it’s a nice way to add a celebratory flavor to the reading, as well as an additional audience draw.”

Over at Jezebel, Emily Gould re-reads a YA fave, Francesca Lia Block’s Weetzie Bat, a book (and series of books) beloved by many, but which I totally missed out on. I keep meaning to remedy that.

In the Weetzie Bat books, the jacaranda is always in bloom, and every character is forever going to the beach to drink pink champagne and eat something with avocados in it. Also, the books are about a teenage girl with a bleached-blond flat top named Weetzie who lives with her gay best friend Dirk and his boyfriend Duck, who sleep with her so she can have a baby named Cherokee because the love of her life, whose name is My Secret Agent Lover man, doesn’t want a child, but everything works out okay and they end up all raising the baby together. Can you believe that, in 1989, someone had the audacity to publish Weetzie Bat as a book for teenagers?

Cuz the Hollywood writer’s strike is likely nearing its end. However, if something goes awry the Oscars are still in jeopardy, and:

Analysts say if a deal is not struck by the Oscars event, and if the awards show is cancelled, the producers will resist any attempt to negotiate a settlement with the writers for the remainder of the broadcast season.

This week the rather neat-o SMITH magazine brings us a book of six-word memoirs, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure. The title pretty much explains it. Publishers Weekly concludes that it “creates a dizzying snowball effect of perspectives and feelings.” It is certainly the kind of thing that tickles the soft parts of me that are always ready for an inspirational writing prompt for students of all ages (try this with 8-year-olds! or 18-year-olds!) or just some freaky-fun quasi-Oulipian constraint play. But my cranky, persistent inner skeptic wonders how many of the 832 memoirs included here are worth even the time it takes to read six words.

After all, you can push and push the constraint thing. A story of 500 words, a story of 100 words, a story of a paragraph, a story of five lines, one line, six words. Let’s be honest: At what point are we abusing the word “story” (or in this case, “memoir”)? I suppose they were inspired by the old Hemingway shortest-story-ever: “For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn”–and you have to admit, that one totally works. But how many of the 832 attempts here even come close? Not so many, I predict.

However, the book does seem to be getting good reviews, for what it’s worth. So the ticklish, good-natured side of me would totally thumb through this in a bookstore, and would end up justifying its purchase for teaching purposes.

The SMITH folks are also holding a six-word challenge in partnership with the eco-blog Treehugger: “Can you describe your green life in just six words?” This truly is wearing the constraint too thin for me, but hey, your attempt just might win you the ubiquitous modern prize goodie, an iPod. Or–perhaps even better–the Planet Earth DVD set. (I can promise you there are some mind-blowing birds on that thing, for reals.)

And you can also continue to submit six-word memoirs–another volume may be in the works.

Finally: Yes, I realize I should’ve written this whole post in six-word sentences. Forgive me. Here’s six words: I am pregnant and damn tired!

We love us some small presses here at Literago, natch. And so should you. So why not get yourself a title by a venerable small press like Coffee House, Milkweed, Graywolf, or hometown little-guy heroes Featherproof right now, so you’ll have it finished and ready to discuss in March? (OK, yes, disclosure in full, I have a certain happy connection to Featherproof…)

Get more info on Small Press Month here. You can check a list of celebratory readings in various cities (there’s some TBA on March 7 at the Poetry Center, apparently; we’ll keep you updated as details unfurl) and get some title recs.

SAIC prof and poker champ chronicler James McManus on Barack Obama’s poker game:

Obama was greeted coolly by some of his fellow-legislators when, in 1997, he arrived in Springfield to take a seat in the Illinois senate. Perhaps realizing that both the Chicago machine pols and the downstate soybean farmers viewed him as an overeducated bleeding heart and a greenhorn, he decided to woo them with poker.

Along with another freshman senator, Terry Link, Obama started up a regular game in Link’s Springfield living room. It began with five players but quickly grew to eight and developed a long waiting list, which included not only Democrats but Republicans and lobbyists. […]

Obama never played for high stakes. Only on a very bad night could a player drop two hundred dollars in these games, typical wins and losses being closer to twenty-five bucks. Link describes Obama as a “calculating” cardplayer, avoiding long-shot draws and patiently waiting for strong starting hands. “When Barack stayed in, you pretty much figured he’s got a good hand,” former Senator Larry Walsh once told a reporter, neglecting to note that maintaining that sort of rock-solid image made it easier for Obama to bluff. […]

On the campaign trail, Obama has been known to play Uno with his daughters, but no card games involving chips.

Chicago’s own Elizabeth Crane has a new book of short stories out from Akashic, You Must Be This Happy to Enter. The Village Voice shows it some love. (Tip from Shoot the Messinger.)

For my part, I am eager to polish off the bleak if well-written novel I’m currently reading (Revolutionary Road, if anyone cares) and move on to Crane’s newest, which I’m certain will be much more inspiring and uplifting to me right now. Just sayin’.

Also: The release party for the book is this week: Thurs, Feb. 7, 7 p.m., at Quimby’s (1854 W. North Ave.)

Profiled in the Forest Park Review recently was one Stephanie Kuehnert, a young (29) Chicago writer whose first novel, a YA title called I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone, is due out in July from MTV Books. The book follows the path of young band-member Emily, as well as that of Emily’s mom, a punk-rocker of a prior generation, who abandoned Emily when she was four months old.

Kuehnert’s agent notes in the profile that “the young adult book market is getting a lot more sophisticated as a genre,” which is pretty much true. And good news, natch. (Also, genre walls are crumbling just a little: More and more YA titles seem to be doing well as crossover titles, and that’s clearly what MTV Books is hoping for with this one; Kuehnert’s book will be available in the general fiction section of stores too, she says.)

But then the agent confuses me: “Now, these books have so many nuances. They deal with classic teenage problems of body image, sexuality, social order, but explore issues that were usually reserved for coming of age novels.” Um, young adult books haven’t always included coming of age novels? Come again, ma’am?

Anyway, hats–or studded belts–off to Kuehnert, who’s apparently working on a revision of a second novel.

On a related note, did you know there’s, like, a whole burgeoning community of teen YA-lit reviewers out there–acing their AP classes, holding down jobs at the smoothie joints, and reading and reviewing hundreds of YA titles a year on their blogs? Well, yes. This generation scares me (in a nice way).

Date: Thursday, January 17, 2008
Time: 7:30 - 9:00 p.m.
Location: Women & Children First

Eileen Favorite has written the book for any lit-lover who gets, well, a little caught up in her favorite fictional escapes–which is you, dear reader, correct? The lovable and terrible and peculiar and tortured characters we get so damn involved with while reading, well, they do tend to haunt us a little–in a good way, usually–when the story’s over. Favorite, a professor at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, has found a wonderful way to spin that readerly obsession/over-identification into narrative in her debut novel, The Heroines. (Full disclosure: Favorite’s a former colleage of mine.) The book is peopled by the likes of Scarlett O’Hara, Emma Bovary, and Franny Glass, all of whom have taken leave of their tragic fictional worlds to soujourn briefly at–where else?–an artists’ retreat in the real world. There, a 13-year-old girl named Penny crosses their paths…and here Favorite’s story takes off.

Favorite will read from the novel and take questions at this event; she’ll also be appearing at The Book Stall at Chestnut Court in Winnetka on Tuesday, January 22 at 7 p.m. and at Borders on W. 95th on Saturday, January 26 at 4 p.m. For more info and a couple excerpts from The Heroines, check out her site.