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Published
Upstate
When
it comes to summer fare, it’s as easy to read local as it
is to eat local
By
Darryl McGrath
It’s gotten easier in re cent years for local authors to publish
and promote their books, and no less so in the Capital Region,
where the summer offers an abundance of titles with upstate
connections. It’s well worth checking out the “Books by Upstate
Authors” section in area bookstores; think of this as the
literary version of the small-farm movement, in which the
bumper stickers would urge us to “Read Local.”
“In
upstate New York, there are a lot of fabulous authors,” says
Rachel King, manager of the Little Book House in Stuyvesant
Plaza, a section of the Book House geared toward younger readers.
“I would say I’ve seen the numbers increase.”
Several Capital Region services and businesses now support
local writers. The Hudson Valley Writers Guild “fosters an
active community of writers and readers by encouraging the
development of local authors,” according to its mission statement.
The guild started in 1983 and has steadily grown through a
partnership with the Albany Institute of History and Art that
hosts writing workshops.
The State University of New York Press has expanded its original
mission as an academic press with its Excelsior Editions:
books on regional topics for general readerships. A homegrown
self-publishing service—the Troy Book Makers, founded by Susan
Novotny of the Book House and Eric Wilska of the Bookloft
in Great Barrington, Mass.—provides first-time upstate authors
a print-on-demand outlet.
Local authors capture stories and history that deserve to
be told, but which might otherwise be lost and which major
publishers would never print. Author Herbert Hyde touched
on this at his recent Book House signing for his memoir, College
and Eighth, about a bygone section of Troy that disappeared
into an expanding Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute campus.
“One
of the reasons I wanted to complete this book was because
I wanted to encapsulate the history of the neighborhood,”
Hyde says.
A sampling of this summer’s local selections:
The
Bucolic Plague: How Two Manhattanites Became Gentlemen Farmers,
by Josh Kilmer-Purcell. The first half of this ice-cream soda
of a book accomplishes for the reader the same thing the author
and his partner sought when they impulsively blew their bank
account on a 19th-century mansion in Scho harie County: It
slows you down until you too are ready to ditch the rat race
and plant heirloom tomatoes. And then real life catches up
with advertising executive Josh Kilmer-Purcell and his beau
Brent Ridge, Martha Stewart’s erstwhile “Dr. Brent” medical
personality. In trying to escape their perfection-driven Manhattan
careers to become weekend farmers, they in stead re-create
them as they launch first a business (goat milk soap), and
then a website and blog (beekman 1802.com) for which they
relentlessly chronicle an “everyday” life on the farm that’s
about as real as Walt Disney World. Along the way, they discover
the gay subculture of Schoharie County—go figure—and offer
a wickedly funny insider’s subtext based on the question:
“What’s it really like to work for Martha Stewart?” Answer:
Just like working for Queen Elizabeth I, only people are fired
instead of beheaded. (HarperCollins, $24.99.)
The
Thunder of Captains, by Dan Lynch. Journalist, author
and ex-radio host Dan Lynch has long been intrigued with why
English Major General John Burgoyne lost the Battle of Saratoga.
In The Thunder of Captains, Lynch offers his interpretation
of the popular belief that Burgoyne spent precious time dallying
with his mistress when he should have been consulting with
his commanders. His theory emphasizes the apocryphal over
the factual, and the romance proves to be the less compelling
part of Lynch’s narrative. Breeze through the scenes between
Burgoyne and his babe, and relish the far more gripping drama
of the courageous soldiers behind both lines, the rich descriptions
of life in colonial upstate New York—you will recognize place
names and scenery—and the interactions among the rebel officers,
all of whom can never quite forget that a traitor’s death
awaits them should the battle go badly. (Three Lakes Publishing,
$19.95.)
Postmortem,
by Laurel Saville. Politicians who want to know how they can
stop media leaks from their campaigns should study the American
family, an institution that’s especially adept at keeping
secrets. Two leading taboos: alcoholism and mental illness,
both of which colored Laurel Saville’s unconventional upbringing
by her brilliant but deeply troubled mother, Anne Ford. Saville,
a magazine journalist and fiction writer, tells the story
from the perspective of her Bohemian 1960s childhood as she
tries to understand her mother’s tragic path from young fashion
designer to murder victim. Interspersed through Saville’s
memories of her mother’s parties, irresponsible artist boyfriends,
lying husbands and hangovers are glimpses of an American fashion
industry still under the spell of the groundbreaking mid-20th-century
designer Claire McCardell. For women who aspired to similar
fame, it was a little like toiling in the recording industry,
where you cranked out largely anonymous but creative work
in the hope that the next design (or song) could be your lucky
break. This is a deeply forgiving account by a daughter who
felt her mother deserved a far more loving eulogy than the
one that fate originally handed her. (IUniverse, $16.95.)
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