The Blog

Hell Yeah! Worthy: Christopher Walken, Stealing Shakespeare, Live Music, and Exploring the Man Cave

curated by the Atticus Books staff

Hell Yeah! Worthy is a weekly Friday feature where our staff distills the plethora of scat on the Internet into a succinct list of the best you haven’t seen, the best you ignored, and the best you should visit again.

 

photo credit: New York Library

Shakespeare Thief Dies, More Books to Read, and a Library’s “Man Cave”

Raymond Scott, the man responsible for stealing a rare Shakespeare folio, is mysteriously found dead in his jail cell. Known for his elaborate defense against the accusation of theft and his personal eccentricities, it’s only a matter of time until his life story turns up as a Hollywood film (and remember, you heard it here first!).

The Publishing Triangle named the finalists for their annual literary awards in gay and lesbian writing, including a lifetime achievement award for graphic novelist Alison Bechdel, author of Fun Home.

Molly Pozel, a blogger at the Missouri Review, questions her local public library’s creation of a “Man Cave” to cater to male readers, and asks the larger question of why we build walls (literal and metaphorical) around authors and literary themes in the first place. (Lacey)

 

But Does It Needs More Cowbell?
Sometimes, when something is funny, you can’t tell whether it’s because it’s brilliant or because it’s totally stupid. Christopher Walken Reading Where the Wild Things Are is precisely that kind of funny. Nevertheless, you’re bound to laugh out loud at least once. And be warned: if you’re watching this at work, put on your headphones. Unless your office is like ours, of course, in which case you should forward it to all your co-workers. (Libby)

 

 

The Sound of (Shared) Music (Only, Please, with Written Permission by the Artist)
I love music as much as I love literature but if I had to live with just one, I’d choose music. The right song at just the right time moves my soul much more intensely and directly than words on a page, no matter how electrifying the story. Maybe my brain has grown lazy with age – you might even say (if you and your superior reading intellect were cruel) that my mind has become a bit like fried jelly after one too many late-night libations, but book smarts be damned, I’d opt for a plodding brain over a life without music any day.

Muscians

photo credit: Wonderlane via Flickr

Here’s another admission, though this one creates no static in my antennae: Until the last couple of years, I’ve always listened to music the old-fashioned way. I support musicians who I discover on the radio (or via a friend’s recommendation) by purchasing their CDs and attending their live concerts. Call me old school, but I figure that’s probably the best way to show my appreciation to the band. In some cases, I’d gladly carry their amplifiers if they’d let me, but I never learned the career path to becoming a roadie.

I’ve gradually shed my dinosaur skin and become an avid listener to the wads of free music on YouTube (of course) and Spotify. I’ve also come to understand that most legitimate sites, such as last.fm and Pandora radio, are terrific resources for loyal fans and are not intended to bankrupt artists or music labels. (At least I don’t think so.) Finally, now that I’ve made the leap to bumming free music off the Internet without feeling guilty, I recently took it one step further and stumbled upon this incredible find: Live Music in the Internet Archive collection. I’m not sure how any of us sleep anymore, knowing there are 8,641 Grateful Dead shows on the Internet Archive alone. Dead fans, I know, have always embraced the idea of spreading joy and sharing bootlegged concerts with strangers, but this is ridiculous. And absolutely, positively enthralling. (Dan)

About Atticus Books

Atticus Books is a fiery multimedia press based in Madison, N.J. We specialize in genre-busting literary fiction and compelling narratives that feature memorable main characters. Contrary to conventional wisdom, we receive no nourishment from Uncle Sam, nor do we eat small children for breakfast. We do nurture the creative minds and bruised egos of starving writers worldwide.

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