Remembering Paul Newman

I'm a devoted Paul Newman fan, as was my mum.

He left the world 12 years ago today.

Here's my very favorite article about Paul Newman, written by Steve Ulfelder.

When I’m telling racing stories at cocktail parties and people’s eyes glaze with boredom – this takes nearly 30 seconds – I know exactly what to say to regain my audience: “I’ve shared the track with Paul Newman.”

Works every time.

Note the careful phrasing: I imply, but do not actually say, that I’ve raced against Newman, who’s known as PLN around the track. I’ve never raced against him because our cars run in different classes. My class comprises Mazdas, Porsches, Acuras, and BMWs. It’s a reasonably fast group but it is nothing, repeat nothing, compared to Newman’s class: GT-1, made up of the fastest, lowest, widest, loudest, most brutish cars at the track.

Keep that in mind when you consider 83-year-old Paul Newman racing. He’s not chugging around the track in a jolly ’53 MG, silk scarf flying, eh wot? He’s strapping on a 700-horsepower weapon that scares the bejesus out of people when he merely starts the engine. (As Dave Barry would say, I am not making this up. Inevitably, a crowd of looky-loos gathers around poor PLN’s paddock when he races at Connecticut’s Lime Rock Park. You should see them jump when he fires up his Corvette.)
Last year I went to a test day at Lime Rock to tune my car for a big season-ending race. During these test days, cars from various classes run at the same time. This is perilous because some of the cars are much faster than others – drivers must keep an eye on their mirrors to avoid unpleasant surprises.
As it turned out, I was grouped with Newman, but didn’t realize it because we hit the track at different times.

So there I was, sailing along, cutting lap times I was pleased with. Each time I drove down Lime Rock’s long front straight I glanced in my mirrors, searching for faster cars. Nothing.
Without warning, in the middle of a turn leading onto a section called No Name Straight, I heard a furious blat. Half a second later, Paul Newman passed me on the outside and vanished. He was so fast that I’d never spotted him, so fast he could pass me whenever and wherever the hell he wanted.
He must have passed me 10 more times that day. Usually I saw him coming in my mirrors, but sometimes that angry blat was my first clue. He was that fast. (Insult to Injury Dept.: For some time now, Newman has used his age as his race car number. So each time he blew by me I got to stare at a big 83 on the back of his car, evidence I’d been passed by an old man.)

Poor journalist that I am, I’ve buried the lede and the point of this story. Yesterday, the powers that be graciously shut down Lime Rock for a few hours to let Paul Newman spin a few farewell laps in his GT-1 Corvette and say goodbye to his favorite race track. As most know by know, PLN has cancer, and I’m hearing he doesn’t have an awful lot of time left. He’s a helluva racer. Can act a little, too.

Sun!

 

That's Ernie in the foreground.
I look just like him today.
Well, not as furry, but another few weeks with no haircut and I'll be giving him a run for his money.

Ernie is the sweetest guy.
Coop is a little more discerning.

Coop isn't quite sure I meet his standards yet.
Ernie says as long as I pet him, I'm ok.

Don't hate me too much: I'm going to ask for synopses with queries

I know, I know, we all hate synopses.
More than a little. More than a lot.
Maybe even alot:

But I recently changed my opinion on the value of synopsis at the query stage.
Way too many people send query pages that start the story at the wrong spot.

I end up passing on things that might actually be a good fit for my list if I could see where the story really begins.

I know, I know.
Insert sounds of wailing, gnashing of teeth and rending of writerly garments (not pants of course)

BUT I'm going to make it an option I think, not a requirement.

So, let me know your thoughts on this.
Any ideas about length, specificity of directions will be much appreciated.

Getting Ready to Query? Clean up your social media.

Recent events have revealed that there are folks out there who will take a deep dive into everything you've ever posted online.

That's a problem if you've done anything crazy or stupid.
And it's a worse problem if you've forgotten about it.

Take the time NOW to look at everything you've posted on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc.
Look at it with a cold, mean-spirited eye.
Use your delete key as needed.

I used to only look for people who had belligerent opinions about agents and publishing.
Now, I'm looking for stuff that will get you (and by association, me) into hot water.
Sharks do not like hot water.

 

Any questions?

The Eyes of NYC

I’m halfway through reading RECURSION by Blake Crouch. It’s described as a science fiction thriller, and is filled with technical jargon about past memories and present experiences and the mental bridge created between them. I’m enjoying it, though I have to admit I shed a tear when one of the MCs described her mother, who is suffering from dementia. It was an apt description, and a familiar one.

I visited NYC once, many years ago, with my ex-husband. We took Amtrak from Baltimore to New York, went to a cat show at Madison Square Garden, had lunch in Chinatown, and returned that same afternoon on the train. It was fun. Here’s the passage from the book I’m reading, that I wanted to share with you:

“It was a long walk here, and yes, for much of it he was crying. That’s one of the great thing about New York—no one cares about your emotional state as long as there’s no blood involved.”

No blood...and no small child.

Some years back I was transiting through the Herald Square subway station. It's a big station, directly under Macys at 33rd Street, and serves seven subway lines.

The turnstiles click non-stop.

As I approached the exit, I saw a small child, probably no more than three or four, who looked to be alone. I stopped cold.

Within about five seconds three other women also stopped.

We didn't say anything to the kid, or to each other.

Within about thirty seconds a dad on the other side of the turnstile, his attention on a child in stroller, turned back and called to the small child we were watching.

Small child scurried under the turnstile and the family proceeded on their way.

As did the rest of us, not a word spoken.

But that kid had eyes on him. We may not say much, we may not intervene, but we're watching!

Some recent eye-rollers

1. "My novel is well-written."

2. "I'm an amateur author"

3. A list of all the people who workshopped your novel

4. Querying in third-person

5. "I am looking for a brilliant literary agent"

6. "I am contacting you personally"

7. "Hi, my name is Felix Buttonweezer and I'm writing to query you."

None of these are deal breakers but you don't want to make a less-than-effective first impression. 

Any questions?

Five Books That Changed History

I've been watching seminars at OneDayU recently.

With the pandemic, I've missed going to library talks, museum lectures, and author events at bookstores.

 

The five books that Rutgers Professor Louis Masur selected were:

1. Common Sense by Tom Paine (1776)

 

 

2. Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beacher Stowe (1852)

 

3. How the Other Half Lives by Jacob Riis (1890)

 

 

4. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (1938)

 

 

Do you want to take a guess at the fifth one?

It was published in 1963.

 

5. Letter From a Birmingham Jail

 

I think The Feminine Mystique was unrightfully overlooked of course but a list is a personal thing.