Bookshelf

Acclaimed authors have new books out in India

Two of Pomona College’s most prominent alumni authors, Vikram Chandra ’84 and Ved Mehta ’56, have new books out in India.

chandracover1The latest from Chandra, author of the bestseller Sacred Games, is Mirrored Mind: My Life in Letter and Code, which explores computer coding and novel writing and the connections and trajectories of the seemingly opposing methods of expression.

Mirrored Mind will be released in the U.S. in September as Geek Sublime: Writing Fiction, Coding Software. Chandra, who has spent years as a computer analyst and years as an acclaimed fiction writer, creates a work described by the publisher as “part literary theory, part tech story, and part memoir.” The book ranges from discussions of the Silicon Valley coding culture to an analysis of the writings of the fourth century Sanskrit grammarian Panini to an examination of his own relationship to Western literature.

The Telegraph (U.K.) called it “a delight to read and never prescriptive… a thought-provoking set of linked essays that are part memoir, part analysis of geeks, part aesthetic treatise.” Meanwhile, Chandra’s bestseller Sacred Games may become a TV series.

mehtacover1Ved Mehta ’56, the author of 27 books and many articles, has released The Essential Ved Mehta. The book contains excerpts from almost all of his nonfiction writings, beginning with his first novel Face to Face, published in 1957. Mehta was a staff writer at the New Yorker from 1960 to 1993, writing prolifically during his tenure. The Essential Ved Mehta contains Mehta’s published pieces that include his many writings on India and politics, as well as family stories and personal memoirs that delve into living with blindness since the age of 4.

Mehta also offers personal commentary that he wrote specifically for this collection as a reflection on each piece. In an interview with WWD, the author “says that he feels that the U.S. and India have equal weight in his consciousness, and that he thinks of himself as belonging to neither of the countries as a writer. Rather, he’s a ‘rootless writer,’ he says, adding that good writing should not be limited by geography.”

Both The Essential Ved Medhta and Mirrored Mind are published by Penguin India.

Aaron Becker ’96 enchants kids and critics with his richly-illustrated Journey

waterfall1

Copyright © 2013 by Aaron Becker. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Candlewick Press, Somerville, MA.

As a boy growing up in Baltimore, Aaron Becker ’96 knew a trick: when he drew pictures, he became all-powerful. “Drawing was a way of making sense of what life was about,” Becker says, “On a piece of paper I could make all the rules that I wanted to.”

 This year, with the release of his debut children’s book, Journey, Becker has created a world that invites its audience to follow the spirit of that child of years ago. Journey features a girl who uses a magical pen to slip from her distracted family to a rich world of her own timbre. With not a single word of text, Journey unfolds over 40 pages of captivating illustrations, detailed but not busy.

The book has won widespread positive notice. Amazon included it among its “Best Books” for young readers in summer 2013 while the New York Times called it a “masterwork.” School Library Journal placed the book on its list of contenders for the Caldecott Medal, the most notable award for picture books.

Comparisons to the 1955 classic Harold and the Purple Crayon have been numerous. People Magazine, for example, called Becker’s work “a descendant” of the earlier book. But Becker says that it was not until he completed Journey that he sat down with a copy of its predecessor—and was startled by the similarities. After mentioning a few of the plot parallels, he jokes, “Obviously I read the book when I was 3 and it entered my subconscious.” Becker feels he owes a greater debt to someone like Bill Watterson, creator of the popular comic Calvin and Hobbes, both for the quality of Watterson’s art and for his ability to authentically evoke childhood.

Becker eyed the possibility of writing a children’s book for years, but his path toward the goal was indirect. “I never had an art class,” he says of his K-12 education. He did briefly try one out in sixth grade, but found the approach was rote. Having drifted away in his teens from his artistic interests, Becker arrived at Pomona with a plan to study the Japanese language and Pacific Rim politics. When that desire dimmed, he considered designing his own major before settling on media studies, a newly offered concentration. His
coursework led him to renew his interest in the visual arts.

After Pomona, Becker settled in the San Francisco Bay Area with a job in web design. Still, he felt unready to sink into a desk job for the long haul. He left his position to travel and work with kids as a camp counselor. Next he decided on a further leap of faith: he would invest in classes at the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, Calif., a move that paid off when it led to a job as a concept designer in the film industry. His work on such films as The Polar Express and Cars offered him artistic challenges and the opportunity to design for a children’s audience.

The moniker “kid at heart” is an apt one for Becker, who describes himself as a happy-go-lucky child who became a young man determined not to take life too seriously. Friend Aaron Rhodes PI ’97 says, “Aaron’s always had a playful side, and a very creative, active imagination. He’s never lost the ability to connect with his inner child.”

Becker has never been one to let life grow too routine. He and wife Darci Palmquist ’96 moved from California to the town of Amherst, Mass., in their mid-30s with plans to buy a house and start a family while telecommuting to their jobs back on the West Coast. When his company folded, Becker found himself the father of an infant daughter, living where he wanted to be—but with no job. That’s when he turned to children’s literature. It was a natural fit.

“Children are not jaded,” he says. “I’m not a jaded person. I don’t like cynicism.” He goes on: “I get that part of being a human being, when you’re young. The world can be scary, and it can be adventurous, but it’s something to be explored and something to find some wonder inside of. I think that wonder and enchantment are very much things that belong to the realm of childhood and children’s books. It’s its own emotion—wonder.”

In an online posting, he recounts how reading to his daughter reminded him of the comfort he gained as a boy from the pages of a book. It was not so much the story, but the color of the pages, the characteristic hue in the pictures. “Certainly, the experience of a good children’s book is far more interesting for kids than for adults who quickly assign meaning, judgment and structure,” he writes. “As kids, it can all just float and mingle.”

Becker is pleased with his publisher’s decision not to pursue an electronic version of the book. “Even on a big computer screen you don’t really see everything that’s going on,” he says. “The book is meant to be held. The other thing a physical book does is it brings the child toward the book as opposed to the book coming toward the child.”

Becker is far from a technophobe, however. He makes frequent use of software to create digital images of three-dimensional scenes that can be rotated and manipulated like a physical model before being brought to life by hand with watercolor and ink.

Journey, which landed on the New York Times bestseller list for picture books, is the first installment in a three-part collection. The second book, an extension of the dreamscape developed in the first, is completed and due out next year. Another project in the works features new characters set amid a “pirates and knights” tableau. Determined to make this stick—“failure is not an option,” he says, in a rare gritty departure from his usual buoyant manner—Becker is also learning the ropes of marketing and promotion. He secured a spot as the “Artist of the Month” at the Amherst gallery Hope and Feathers this fall. Becker is “elated” at the warm welcome his work has received. It’s been a journey in itself, one that began with a boy and pages of drawings, and a drive to map his own route. “I think that’s the lure for learning how to draw better,” he says. “I don’t want to learn how to draw a house, I want to draw the house I want to live in.”

Sagehen surprise in Lethem’s new book; Pynchon’s latest tome mentions Pomona, too

dissident1Though it is set in Queens, Pomona College Professor Jonathan Lethem’s latest novel, Dissident Gardens, contains a fun little nod to his SoCal college home. Deep in the novel about “three generations of All-American radicals,” as Lethem is unspooling a bit of background about purist music teacher Harris Murphy, we learn that Murphy was part of the short-lived duo which contributed one song to the anthology LP Live at the Sagehen Cafe.

For those who are decades away from campus life, the Sagehen Cafe is the sitdown eatery in the Smith Campus Center, adjacent to the Coop Fountain.

Lethem says it is the only Pomona allusion he dropped into the book (available Sept. 10), but he did pass along the news that Thomas Pynchon’s new novel, Bleeding Edge (available Sept. 17), also set in New York, contains a brief reference to Pomona College in its first few pages.

Perhaps it is no surprise that Pomona was recently named to Flavorwire’s list of the most literary colleges …

More from the magazine about Jonathan Lethem, Pomona’s Roy Edward Disney ’51 Professor in Creative Writing.

Hollywood and the White House

ronald reagan hollywood star

In his new book, The Leading Man: Hollywood and the Presidential Image, historian Burton Peretti ’82 explores how Tinseltown and the U.S. presidency are sometimes strange, sometimes highly compatible bedfellows that build a relationship based on mass communication.

“It may seem surprising to claim that a president or other politician could cross over to the fantasy world of the movies, but it has happened,” Peretti writes in his introduction. “Such transformations have, in fact, been a major development in American political history.”

reaganstar1So did Hollywood seek out presidents or did presidents seek out Hollywood? Peretti says the answer is yes and yes. The attraction was mutual. “Presidents were fascinated by the cultural power wielded by the movies, while moviemakers were drawn to the dramatic realm of power in the real world,” says Peretti.

With most of his work focusing on 20th century politics, culture and music, Peretti’s previous books include Lift Every Voice: the History of African American Music and Jazz in American Culture. After writing Nightclub City: Politics and Amusement in Manhattan, looking at how local politicians became enamored with the city’s 1920s nightlife, he was asked to follow up with a book on American culture since 1945. Peretti instead found himself drawn even prior to that era, and specifically to the relationship between show business and the White House.

Peretti traces the beginning of the romance to the 1920s, when presidents were as star-struck as ordinary Americans, and movie stars and studios sought out appearances at the side of the executive-in-chief and to influence legislation favorable to Tinseltown on issues such as tax rates and antitrust regulation. It was the beginning of a friendship with benefits.

Some of those benefits to presidents were studio-style advice and movie review-like critiques. In the early days of television, Presidents Hoover, Truman and Eisenhower received letters criticizing their on-camera styles. To polish up, Eisenhower recruited movie actor Robert Montgomery as a consultant who changed the president’s posture, wardrobe, gestures and pace ofspeaking, Peretti says.

Peretti considers John F. Kennedy the paragon, the real golden boy, burnished in part by his father’s brief stint as a Hollywood producer and his contacts in the industry. “Kennedy drew on his experience socializing in Hollywood to look, dress and move like a movie idol. He carefully posed for photos and worked at displaying a casual style at televised press conferences,” says Peretti.

He cites the recollection of Princess Grace of Monaco, the former film star Grace Kelly, after Kennedy’s assassination: “He was almost too good to be true—he was just like the All-American boy, wasn’t he? Handsome, a fighter, witty, full of charm.”

But not everyone was quite as taken with him. Losing in 1960, Richard Nixon found Kennedy’s resemblance to and reception as a movie star was a thorn in his side, one that fed Nixon’s obsession with his own portrayal and led to him hiring numerous media consultants. “He was more concerned about his image than any other president, but it did him little good,” says Peretti, a former professor at Western Connecticut State University, soon to start a new role as dean of liberal arts at Northern Virginia Community College’s Annandale campus.

If Kennedy is the best and most glamorous pick and Nixon the worst, Ronald Reagan might be the most obvious. Thirty years spent in TV and film cultivated Reagan’s effortless mien in front of cameras, and perhaps buffed his quick wit. Like Kennedy, Reagan understood that success as a mass media politician required a movie-star-like touch, Peretti says.

Fast-forward to the 21st century, where President Obama’s approach to Hollywood is a bit more complicated. In both elections President Obama garnered glitterati show-biz supporters like Béyonce, Scarlett Johansson and studio executive Jeffrey Katzenberg. Actor Kal Penn was appointed as associate director of the White House Office of Public Engagement. But when it comes to style, Peretti says Obama has been a somewhat ambiguous case in terms of Hollywood influence.

“In 2008 [Obama] seemed to channel the public’s mistrust of blatant media manipulation by the president, in the wake of George W. Bush’s posturing as a Navy flyboy and ideal commander-in-chief. Obama balanced his charisma before audiences with a diffident speaking style that seemed to reject Hollywood effects.”

However, if Obama is distancing himself, Peretti notes that—on the other side of the White House bed—First Lady Michelle Obama has embraced a celebrity persona in many ways, including appearances on the Oscars and the cover of Vogue.

Currently, and even more so in the future, Peretti sees less cinematic grandeur and more scrutiny of stars and presidents. Twentyfour- hour news cycles and social media reveal public figures as human, fallible and could possibly make presidents seem insignificant, he says. But the interplay between cinema and the highest office in the land still retains some of its magic. And, Peretti argues, the subject tells us a lot about who we are as a people, showing us “how we balance our civic life with a rich and disruptive dream life, epitomized by the movies.”

Backroads scholar Dan Hickstein ’06 writes the guide to mountain biking in Colorado

During his Pomona College days, Dan Hickstein ’06 landed a prestigious Churchill Scholarship to study at Cambridge (where he earned his master’s in physics), co-authored articles for such publications as the Journal of the American Chemical Society and  completed two internships at the National Institutes of Health.

But Hickstein also knows how to let off some steam in the great outdoors, and he recently took a year off from pursuing his Ph.D. in chemical physics at the University of Colorado at Boulder to write The Mountain Biker’s Guide to Colorado, earning rave reviews on amazon. The result: 367 pages chock full o’ trail details and ratings, maps, photos and even tidbits on bike shops and places to eat from Fort Collins to Aspen.

As Hickstein told Colorado Daily:

“A week at a time I’d drive out to some part of Colorado and ride all the trails — and ride them all with a GPS. I wanted to have really good maps in the book. I would ride with digital camera and each time I got to a turn I’d make a point on the GPS and record the instructions as a little movie on my  camera. I spent hours going through the videos and GPS tracks. I really tried to be out there most every day, rain or shine, trying to get the trails ridden and get the research done.”

 

 

 

Susan Beilby Magee ’66 delves into the art and life of Holocaust survivor Kalman Aron

When Susan Beilby Magee ’66 was 6 years old, she posed for a portrait by Kalman Aron, a Holocaust survivor and fine artist who had come to Los Angeles after World War II and was barely eking out a living.

Fifty years later, Aron, a respected portrait and landscape artist, whose com- missioned subjects include Ronald Reagan, Henry Miller and André Previn, would ask Magee to write the story of his life.

The result, nearly 10 years in the making, is Into the Light: The Healing Art of Kalman Aron, co-published in October by Hard Press Editions and Posterity Press, Inc. in association with Hudson Hills Press. A compelling and graceful mix of first-person memoir, biography and commentary, the book is also a comprehensive retrospective of Aron’s work, encompassing 210 stunning color plates and 30 black-and-white images.

Aron and Magee saw each other only sporadically after her 1951 portrait sitting. Graduating in 1966 from Pomona with a B.A. in international relations, Magee became a leader in the women’s movement in Seattle. She was a White House Fellow, earned her M.B.A. at the Wharton School and held positions in domestic finance and economic development in the U.S. Treas- ury and Commerce departments during the Ford and Carter administrations.

“Pomona College,” Magee says, “gave me the foundation that a liberal arts education is supposed to give you. It was a springboard for me to explore and be curious about life.”

In the mid-1980s, Magee’s life took an unexpected turn. She became a certified hypnotherapist and meditation teacher, founded the Washington Circle of Master Healers and is involved with healing pro- grams at the Center for Prayer and Pilgrimage at the Washington National Cathedral.

Meditation would play a part, too, in Magee’s understanding of Aron’s story and how it informed his art. “If you ask Kalman, ‘Why did you paint that particular painting about that subject?,’ he’ll say, ‘I don’t know.’ His work is unconsciously done.

“Yet you can see in his work that he metabolized his experiences,” she says. “In Kalman’s early work, he was painting all of the desolation and lack of light and color that he saw. That was what was going on in- side him. As he regained texture and color in his life, his paintings exploded with it.

“I sat in silence for five months by myself with 10 groups of his paintings,” Magee says. “What was going on in his life at the time he painted them? What was he working out? What was the influence of the Holocaust? I depended on that quiet listening for the answers.”

It was during a mutual visit with Magee’s ailing mother that Aron asked Magee to write his story. (An interior decorator and art patron, Magee’s mother played a major role in Aron’s early success as a portrait painter. “She sent him all her clients,” Magee explains.)

Aron’s request came after seeing the 2002 film The Pianist. Based on a Jewish-Polish musician’s World War II memoir, the film, Magee says, had somehow given Aron the freedom to tell the story he had tried to forget.

“I wasn’t going to have anybody write it,” 88-year-old Aron says from his home in Los Angeles, “because I didn’t want to remember it.” Magee, he says, “did a good job.”

After an initial 18 hours of interviews, Magee’s research took her to the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington and to Europe, where she visited the sites of Aron’s childhood home in Riga and the camps where he was incarcerated in Poland, Germany and then-Czechoslovakia. Among the records that she found was the transit paper marking Aron’s arrival at Buchenwald.

From Prague to Salzburg, Magee followed Aron’s post-liberation route as he fled Russian Army custody. She went to Vienna, where the artist and his first wife lived before emigrating to the United States in 1949, and where Aron attended the Vienna Fine Arts Academy on a full scholarship after the war.

At the site of the Rumbula massacre where Aron’s mother was among 25,000 Jewish Latvians killed over two days in 1941, Magee placed a memorial stone honoring both of Aron’s parents.

Aron, who refuses to go back to Latvia, was uneasy about the trip. “I didn’t want her to go,” he says. “It was brave of her.”

Magee, who is not Jewish, believes, however, that she could not have written the book if not for her own “deep healing journey” as a victim of child abuse. “People who know me know the history of what happened to me,” she adds, “but this is the first time that I’ve written it in print.”

For Magee, one of Aron’s most revelatory pieces is a small, dark painting from the early 1950s called “Kalman Marching in the Camp.” In it, Aron is the skeletal central figure, flanked by smaller faces that appear alternately “wise, sad or terrorized.”

“I realized that those were all aspects of Kalman in the camps,” she says. “But the one that survived is the one upfront and center, the one who is utterly determined to survive, even though he has had to let go of most of his light.

“That’s what he would reclaim,” Magee says. “He wanted to live so that he could see the world and paint it.”

New Book Looks into the Birth of Mirth

If you’re reading James Thurber and Robert Benchley and composing comedic poetry at the tender age of 7, then writing a book that examines humor from every conceivable angle doesn’t feel like that much of a stretch. Indeed, when David Misch ’72 began putting together Funny: The Book three years ago, it felt like the next logical step in a four-decade career that has included stints as a comedic folk singer, stand-up comedian and writer for such shows as Mork and Mindy and Saturday Night Live.

Misch credits his days at Pomona for both the beginning of his life’s work and its latest chapter. During his senior year, Misch was goofing around, making up songs on guitar with some friends in his Clark dorm room.Their laughter prompted a concert booking at the Smudge Pot coffee house and a postgraduate career as a “professional funny folk singer,” an occupation that, Misch notes, “went out around the same time as ‘buggy whip maker.’”

Misch adapted, though, writing for sitcoms, selling a handful of screenplays and serving as a special consultant on The Muppets Take Manhattan. When it came to time reinvent himself once again, Misch thought about teaching and remembered a multidisciplinary course he took during his senior year at Pomona titled Freud, Marx and Contemporary Literature. “I remember my mind being blown by the way the class brought all these things together,” Misch says. “So I got the idea to study comedy from every conceivable angle—science, biology, history, philosophy and psychology—and not just its manifestations in movies and television, as it’s usually studied.”

As Misch dove into the research, a literary agent friend told him he should fashion a book out of the material. Funny: The Book stands as the greatly abridged version of two years of study, as well as something of a companion to the course, Funny: A Survey of American Comedy, he taught last fall at the University of Southern California. In it, the witty Misch surveys the history of humor, considers the scientific nature of laughter and, amid a fart joke or two, makes a convincing case for comedy to be taken seriously.

“You’re up against it when you have people like Woody Allen saying that comedy is frivolous and inferior to drama,” Misch says. “But in my study, I was unable to discern any difference in the properties of comedy and drama, nor any difference in their complexity. The only difference: one produces laughter, the other tears.”

Misch blames the Greeks—Aristotle and Plato—for the persistent idea that laughter is cruel and immoral and thus somehow shameful. He trots out his own heavy hitters, citing Carl Jung’s belief that frivolity makes life worth living and functions as a crucial aspect of what makes us human. Misch also loves the notion propagated by author Philip Pullman that laughter ranks as one of life’s greatest pleasures, a simple delight that people can summon at will. And, of course, there’s Norman Cousins, who believed a daily dose of the Marx Brothers, along with a lot of Vitamin C, helped him live another 36 years after doctors diagnosed him with heart disease. Scientific studies of the correlation between humor and health aren’t conclusive, Misch says, but there does appear to be evidence that laughter does help a little. “And a little is better than nothing,” Misch says.

But what’s humorously healing to Misch might be a source of irritation to someone else. And vice versa. Misch didn’t need to endure the quizzical stares of some of his USC students or the occasional wave of head-scratching he noticed while teaching a course in musical satire last spring at UCLA to know that comedy is totally subjective. For him, that’s just another aspect of humor that elevates it above drama as an art form. “That subjectivity gives comedy a mystery that drama lacks,” Misch says. “What makes something funny? After all the scientific dissection I do, it’s still a little mysterious why one sentence is funny and why another sentence, that’s almost identical save for one word or sometimes one piece of punctuation, isn’t. To me, there’s magic in that mystery.”

Professor’s Praise Launched Prolific Children’s Author

Children’s author Barbara Brooks Wallace ’45 has racked up more than her share of awards and rave reviews in a career spanning five decades. And, at 89, she’s still at it, with the Cinderella-themed Diary of a Little Devil released in December and another book in her Miss Switch series coming in the fall.

 But she hasn’t forgotten her shaky start. Wallace, who today lives in a retirement home in McLean, Va., credits her success to an initially-nerve-wracking encounter with her freshman-year English professor at Pomona College.

Wallace had always pleased her high school teachers. But at Pomona she came to realize she was prone to “flossy” overwriting and for the first time in her life, she was making C’s on papers. Then English Professor Charles C. Holmes called her into a meeting.

“He pushed my two essays across his desk and said, ‘There really isn’t much I can say to you.’  My heart nearly stopped because my immediate thought was that my writing was so bad, there was no hope for me,” Wallace says.

His next words stunned her: “If these were done by a professional writer,” Holmes said. “They’d be good enough for The New Yorker.”

Holmes went on to tell Wallace to continue taking English and writing classes—advice she heeded some years later. But first she transferred to UCLA, majored in international relations, got married and had a son. It was her sister Constance Brooks Schindehette ’43 who reminded Wallace of Professor Holmes’ advice.

Wallace enrolled in a creative writing course at Santa Monica City College, and eventually tried using her childhood in China as a setting for a fantasy children’s story—resulting in a book that Wallace says was terrible. “But that story hooked me on writing for children, so that’s what I’ve done ever since.”

Claudia, the tale of an 11-year-old girl overcoming the ups and downs of that age, was Wallace’s first published book.

She has earned acclaim ever since. Praised by the American Library Association, The New York Times and Kirkus Reviews, Wallace has been honored with two Edgar Allen Poe Awards from the Mystery Writers of America for The Twin in the Tavern and Sparrows in the Scullery. She also earned the NLAPW Children’s Book Award and International Youth Library “Best of the Best” for Claudia.

Her many works include Victorian-era mysteries, fantasy novels, a biography of her mother, her autobiography, picture books, teleplays and musicals. The Trouble with Miss Switch and Miss Switch to the Rescue were made into Saturday morning animated specials for ABC, both of which were the highest-rated films in the TV series.

Wallace’s latest book is Diary of a Little Devil, a Cinderella-themed story (“No handsome prince, but a happy ending nonetheless!”) of a young girl, Andy, whose widowed father remarries someone with twin daughters who—once they all return to their home in China—make life miserable for Andy.

Between shooting a YouTube video of her reading a chapter from Diary and preparing for the fall release of Miss Switch and the Vile Villains, this octogenarian is keeping at her keyboard. “What’s next for me is to go on writing one way or another,” she says. —Sneha Abraham

The love lives of American Muslim women

Nura Maznavi ’00 was tired of hearing everyone talk about Muslim women, without ever stopping to listen to Muslim women themselves.

“Nowhere in the public discourse did we see a reflection of the funny, independent and opinionated Muslim women we knew,” says Maznavi, who, with co-editor Ayesha Mattu, thought an anthology could help fill the void. “We decided to compile our faith community’s love stories as a celebration of our identity and heritage, and a way of amplifying our diverse voices, practice and perspectives.”

In Love, InshAllah: The Secret Love Lives of American Muslim Women, 25 women chronicle their experiences of romance, dating, love and sex in the context of their varied relationships to their Muslim faith. (“InshAllah” means “God-willing.”) For the anthology’s co-editors, this was an opportunity to subvert popular perceptions and stereotypes of Muslim women and also remind readers of the universality and complexity of the search for love.

The project began nearly five years ago. Maznavi and Mattu, who met through mutual friends, circulated a nationwide call for submissions and received more than 200. The criteria for the final selections? The writers had to be both American and Muslim and collectively represent the spectrum of both identities. The contributors to Love, InshAllah are blonde or black; South Asian or Southern; divorced, single or polygynous; straight or lesbian. “It was very important to us that the final contributors reflect the ethnic, racial and religious—orthodox to cultural to secular—diversity of the American Muslim community,” says Maznavi, a civil rights attorney in Los Angeles.

For Maznavi and Mattu, building trust was key so that the writers felt comfortable exploring the parts of themselves that were sometimes difficult to write about. Contributors were assured that none of their stories would be sent to print without their final approval. “For many of our writers, it was the first time they were sharing the personal and intimate details of their love lives—not only with the public, but sometimes with their family and friends,” she says.

Each of the editors contributed a chapter as well. Maznavi wrote about her crush on a Sri Lankan Catholic model and the dilemma of whether to kiss him or not. Mattu told the story of finding her soul mate in an Albanian agnostic—after 9/11 and before his conversion to Islam.

Getting the book to print was a hurdle, though eventually an independent publishing house, Soft Skull Press, an imprint of Counterpoint, was won over. “Many of the first publishers we approached loved it, but were reluctant to publish a book by unknown writers meant for an untested market,” Maznavi says.

The hope of the book, says Maznavi, is that “we will discover that one of the things we all have in common is the desire to love and be loved for who we are.”

 

 

Richard Preston ’76, Michael Crichton and the making of “Micro”

Richard Preston’s friendship with Michael Crichton is a strange one—mostly because the two writers never met.

It developed as Preston ’76 finished writing Crichton’s 17th novel, a thriller that finds seven grad students lured to Hawaii for a research project that turns out to be run by a sociopath scientist. The students are plunged into the insect world of Oahu and must struggle to survive.

“At first I thought I would be intimidated,” says Preston, “but I became entranced by Michael’s materials. It became an act of friendship, and I developed a feeling of affection for Michael even though I had never met him.”

Crichton (The Andromeda Strain, Jurassic Park) died of cancer in 2008 at the age of 66. He left behind an unfinished manuscript and the Michael Crichton Trust, which went looking for someone to complete the novel. Lynn Nesbit, Crichton’s literary agent, called Preston in 2009 to let him know about the search. Preston, author of several best sellers himself, was at work on a novel, but the Crichton project sounded “extremely tempting,”and he let Nesbit know he was interested.

He was given the manuscript of the third of the book that Crichton had completed. “There was a poignancy in it. Crichton was working at high speed as if he didn’t know if he had time left to finish it,” Preston says.

Preston (The Hot Zone, The Cobra Event) wrote a proposal of what he thought Crichton’s plan was for the book and supplied an ending (Crichton had not) and a working title: Micro World, a technical term from biology basically referring to organisms the size of insects.

He got word that Sherri, Crichton’s widow, wanted to meet him, and he traveled to Santa Monica, Calif., where he met with her and Bonnie Jordan, Crichton’s longtime personal assistant, in Crichton’s writing space, a nondescript home where Crichton worked in a spare, upstairs bedroom.

“Sherri was so taken that I had come so close to predicting the secret title of the book—Micro—that she thought I should see these notes, and she brought out notebooks and jottings on hotel notepads and told me no one had seen these, not even Nesbit.”

Preston started an outline for the book, which became a 25,000 word “story bible.” The three of them—Preston, Sherri and Jordan—all worked on the book with the two women making suggestions based on their knowledge of Crichton and his discussions with them about the book.

“Michael was obsessed with the literary trope of shrunken humans and watched movies like Fantastic Voyage with Sherri to get it right.”

Preston began the actual writing in the spring of 2010. August of that year found him in Hawaii, down on his hands and knees with a magnifying glass examining the floor of an Oahu rain forest for detail to use in the book.

According to Preston, Crichton “was concerned that young people today don’t have the chance to experience the wonder of nature. So I tried to take readers on an odyssey through the micro world.”
Preston thought part of the task was to recover the lost voice of the author Michael Crichton. He studied videotapes of Crichton for speech patterns, read all of Crichton’s books and did a technical study of Crichton’s writing—how he went about his narratives, how he developed characters, etc.

“It was definitely a project where you had to check your ego at the door,” says Preston, whose book The Hot Zone has sold more than 2.5 million copies. “At one point, Bonnie handed back some of my work and she had crossed out the word ‘meanwhile.’ She told me that Michael never used the word in any of his books, that his narrative scenes were slam-bam and there was no meanwhile in them.”

Sherri insisted that Preston keep the part that Crichton had written, which meant Preston had to adopt Crichton’s style and tone. (Preston won’t say where the transition is in the book).

In going through Crichton’s notes, Preston came upon the words “to JR” jotted in them. Crichton mostly did not dedicate his books to anyone, but those words looked like a dedication to Preston, and he asked Bonnie who J.R. might be. A friend? Family? And then it came to them: Junior. When Michael died, Sherri had been pregnant with their child.

Preston put a photo of John Michael Crichton, Jr., then 3 years old, above his writing space, a way of remembering “the person I was writing for.”

Micro was published in November, and Preston has resumed his own project, which he describes as a departure from his previous books, which were rooted in contemporary scientific discoveries. The coming book creates an imaginary world with non-human characters but “not aliens; it’s not science fiction.”

He hopes to have a first draft done by April and publication before 2014. About Micro, he says he is happy how it turned out and “I like to think Michael would be, too.”