News

As has been widely reported, Harvard sophomore and New York Times bestselling author Kaavya Viswanathan is facing charges that she plagiarized material from Megan McCafferty’s Sloppy Firsts for use in her novel, How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got A Life. (See the material side by side here.)

Over at Galleycat, Sarah points out that that there may have been more than one cook in the kitchen, what with the involvement of a “book packaging” company that helped Viswanathan make her work more “commercially viable.” Meanwhile, Maud links to a MeFi thread in which a former teacher of Viswanathan states, “I was surprised to learn she had written a book, as her writing was awful — I had given her low grades on her papers.” And, over at Lit Saloon, Michael quips: “Wonderful stuff — especially since the plagiarism seems so utterly pointless. God, we love the American publishing industry and what it leads to !”

Well, here is what it leads to: According to this article by Dinitia Smith in the Times, the “book packaging” company in question is 17th Street Productions, now renamed Alloy Entertainment. Smith writes that “Alloy, which referred questions to Little, Brown, holds the copyright to “Opal” with Ms. Viswanathan.” (Emphasis mine.) So who exactly wrote this book?

Sad news this morning: Moroccan playwright Abdesslam Chraibi has passed on:

He started his career in theatre as an actor and playwright in the 60s in his native city, Marrakech, with the troupe Al Wifak and then with the national groupe Al Maamoura.

He later co-founded the troupe Al Wafaa al Marrakshia with other emblematic figures of the Moroccan theatre like Abdeljabbar Lawzir and Mohammed Belkas.

As a playwright, Chraibi is known for his successful plays “Al Harraz”, “Sidi Keddour El Alami”, and “Meksour Ljanah”, which discussed issues related to the Moroccan society, traditions, and culture.

The artist also wrote scripts for television, including the outstanding serial “Inssane fil Mizane”.

He collaborated with many theatre leaders, such as Tayeb Seddiki, and worked in Casablanca’s municipal theatre.

He will be missed.

This week, the LBC is engaged in a discussion of Sheila Heti’s short novel Ticknor, which was nominated by MG pal Mark Sarvas. Of the book, Mark writes:

When George Ticknor’s Life of William Hickling Prescott was published in 1864, it received rapturous notices, and reviewers were quick to point out that the long-standing friendship between Prescott and Ticknor made the latter an ideal Boswell. Sheila Heti, whose debut short story collection, The Middle Stories, was published in this country by McSweeney’s, has pulled this obscure leaf from the literary archives and fashioned a mordantly funny anti-history; a pungent and hilarious study of bitterness and promise unfulfilled.

As a fretful Ticknor navigates his way through the rain-soaked streets of Boston to Prescott’s house (“But I am not a late man. I hate to be late.”), he recalls his decidedly one-sided lifelong friendship with his great subject, a friendship that Heti has estranged from its factual moorings. Unlike the real-life Ticknor, this one is an embittered also-ran, full of plans and intentions never realized — coveting his friend’s wife, writing letters that never get answered, working on essays destined to be rejected — always alive to the fashionable whispers behind his back.

I recommend you stop by the site to read LBC members’ discussion.

Because I’d missed last year’s edition, I was really looking forward to Wordstock, Portland’s book festival, which was held this weekend at the Oregon Convention Center. I got there around 10:30 am, and walked around, through the neatly ordered booths where booksellers, literary magazines, MFA programs, small presses, writers’ conferences, writers’ organizations, and self-published authors were selling their wares. I started my literary peregrinations by popping into the “Sassy Stories” reading, which featured Thisben Nissen, Curtis Sittenfeld, and Vendela Vida. The poster for the talk listed Vendela Vida as “the author of And Now You Can Go, and wife of author Dave Eggers.” Seriously. What does her marriage have to do with anything?

Then I went into the green room to wait for my own panel, which was due to start at 12. The place was alternately desert-hot or freezing cold, but at least the coffee flowed and the company was great. I had a quiet chat with Mary McGarry Morris, who was delightfully down to earth. I caught up with David Hernandez and Lisa Glatt, and got a chance to congratulate her on landing a position at California State University. Local authors Cheryl Strayed, Justin Tussing, and Matt Briggs were also there, waiting to go to the Emerging Voices panel.

As we were both waiting for our International Fiction panel to be announced, Thrity Umrigar and I had an animated conversation about book reviewing, teaching, and writing. Thrity had reviewed my book for the Boston Globe (and, fortunately for me, she’d liked it.) The reading went well, and we had some great questions about how our books were received here in the U.S. as opposed to our native countries, whether we think of a specific audience while writing, and how we identify ourselves. Later, during the book signing, I was seated next to Nigerian author Chikodi Anunobi, whose work I was not familiar with, and so we talked about Nigerian literature for a little bit before Alex and I had to go look for some lunch.

As I was getting coffee, I bumped into Whitney Otto, who was holding an ice pack against the back of her head. “What happened?” I shrieked. She said she’d knocked her head somehow, but now she was feeling fine, and was looking forward to attending Karen Karbo’s reading. I also had a discussion with Marc Acito about comedy writing–Acito himself is very funny, though he says he doesn’t think he’s being funny most of the time, he’s just being candid; people find that amusing.

Unfortunately, I don’t have pictures from my panel with Erin Ergenbright, during which we each read our contributions to The May Queen anthology . Alex, who had the camera, noticed that I was reading at the same time as Andrew Sean Greer. “Andy’s reading!” he said. “See ya!” So here’s Andy, answering questions about The Confessions of Max Tivoli. (No, I imagine him saying, that syndrome about reverse aging doesn’t exist. I made it up.) I can’t wait for his next book.

Let’s see. What else happened? I watched Joyce Carol Oates come and go in the green room and on the festival floor, without mustering the nerve to talk to her. What do you say to someone like her? Hello, Ms. Oates, I love your work? What if she’d said, Take a number, sister.? Nor could I manage to talk to Colson Whitehead, whether before his talk or at the evening party. Again, I say, what can one ask?

The larger stages, which were set up inside the convention floor, remained sparsely attended in the early hours of the day. (No doubt this is because the weather was lovely. This is Portland: When it’s not raining, people go out.) But the turnout got bigger as the day wore on and as the stars came out. Edward Hirsch and Vern Rutsala packed the Mountain Writers Stage, for instance. There was a huge crowd at the “Writing About Iraq” panel, although, tellingly, not a single Iraqi was on the bill. But by far the most popular reading was Dave Eggers’s. Here’s a picture of him as he’s about to go on the Powell’s stage.

I skipped Sunday’s events in favor of Chapter Five of my novel. But you can read more about Wordstock over at the Oregonian, where Jeff Baker delivers the goods, and don’t forget to swing by the Powell’s blog.

Portland’s Wordstock Festival is set to open today, with a guest list of more than 250 authors. For only $3 each day, you can attend dozens of readings at the Oregon Convention Center. (See the full schedule here.) The Willamette Week‘s editorial staff have also written up a handy little Guide to Wordstock, which you should check out.

I will be doing two events at Wordstock. I’ll be reading from my book, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits, at the International Fiction stage, with Thrity Umrigar, author of The Space Between Us. Here are the details:

Saturday, April 22
12 PM
Portland Stage, B110-111

And I will also be reading from a personal essay I contributed to the anthology The May Queen. The other reader is the lovely and amazing Erin Ergenbright, author of The Ex-Boyfriend Cookbook (with Thisbe Nissen) and the co-director of the Loggernaut reading series. Details:

Saturday, April 22
3 PM
Oregon Stage, B118-119

You can see the full author list here. It’s an awesome line-up, so if you’re in the Portland area, please come.