Pilgrimage

Frankly my dear, you don't give a damn.

2011-07-14T20:33:00.002-04:00

People are always asking me what my favorite books are, and for some reason I feel like answering that today.

With certain exceptions, I dislike books where the author has ever posed with a cat.

He who resembles Hannibal Lecter

Lessing

Ye Olde Windbag

Thompson

Cortazar

Kerou-whack

Twain

Burroughs

Anyway, I don’t usually ask about favorite books unless I’m curious about the individual. Or if someone recommends a book that I fall in love with, then I’ll ask them for recommendations later, but mostly to see if, by some miracle, our tastes match up on more than one title. Tastes are so subjective, it’s crazy to think that someone could like all the same favorite books as me – or even all the same books.

And yet…

Some books just appeal to a high percentage of everyone, even if a lot of them won’t admit it. (“Yes, I read the Da Vinci Code. SUCH bad writing. How on earth did he get published? I mean, the clichés! I almost couldn’t get through it. But it was interesting!”)

Anyway, I’ve also had this discussion a lot lately – what makes a bestseller? I don’t mean paperbacks where the girl gets the dream guy and the CIA nabs another terrorist and two weeks later you can’t remember a single character. I mean books that get HUGE and turn into cultural icons, like Twilight and Harry Potter and The Da Vinci Code and George RR Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire – or going further back: Clan of the Cave Bear and Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of Oz. Books that not only sell millions of copies but which also inspire a kind of dogged, even twisted loyalty. People read these books because they’re in vogue, but then they fall in love with them and talk about them for years. It seems like everybody and their mother loves them, has read them, is talking about them....you start to feel that they'll never go away. You know what I'm talking about. What makes that kind of book?

Some random answers from various conversations:

1 - Most of those books are fantasy. They involve the creation of other worlds that readers enjoy inhabiting – worlds you wish were real and that you could be a part of. So it takes a fantasy novel to make people fall in love, kind of like it takes airbrushing to make a Victoria’s Secret model….

2 - Corollary to the above: there’s something hardwired in the human brain that makes people appreciate fantasy. Witness the fact that every culture’s main artifacts are their myths, and we still listen to – and tell - and in some cases believe those stories today.

3 – Another corollary: Someone claimed that this was Tolkien’s answer, but whatever: that there’s something about the modern world that is essentially offensive to people’s souls. We live in the realm of the Lorax and we want grass and trees, so we look to novels or films to provide us with gratifying dramas set in magical landscapes with stories that involve the destruction of worlds and the desperate struggle to preserve those worlds.

4 – Each of these novels did something unique and fresh. (My personal argument here is that each of these novels did MANY things unique and fresh, as well as many things OLD AS HELL, but they did them with alchemical intelligence. And I'm not sure how much of that was even conscious. If you're following me this far, you'll understand when I say I want to write a book called "Breaking Dawn: or When the Author Accidentally Shows that They Had No Idea What They Were Actually Doing." And one for screenwriters called: "Lost.")

5 – Each of these writers was slightly mad and had a gripping, all-consuming passion for their art. And everybody knows that tortured artists are better. (When they're dead.) Which I think is not even remotely true.

there has to be a key!

6 - Number one answer I hear from anyone in the publishing business: this kind of book is never made, there is just a magic conflux of events that blessed their literary souls: proper timing, cultural readiness, and good storytelling. And if anyone could please figure out the recipe for that magic conflux, please notify my publisher.

7 – Sheer dumb luck

8 – Voodoo

9 – A conspiracy of dumb readers, peasants with disposable income who could never be expected to appreciate the true genius of David Foster Wallace, David Mitchell or ye, any author named David (apologies to Sedaris). You know, those authors who say “screw you!” to basic ideas of, I don’t know, plot and character. If more readers appreciated this kind of butt-crack-of-the-bell-curve fiction then there wouldn’t be enough space left for books like Twilight to infect the planet.

(I think, as punishment for their vanity, all the Butt-Cracks who make this argument should be forced to sign their favorite authors’ books at Walmart in hell for however long it took each dissatisfied reader to grapple their way through the tedious fiction.)

10 – I’m sure I left something out.

I think the whole idea of a mystery series is that it's the long road to this phenomenon. For example: Lee Child, Sue Grafton, Janet Evanovitch. It’s like, if you write enough pages about this guy, or that girl, or this small town, then eventually you will have a full-scale fantasy novel on your hands – an utterly complete world that someone can slip into and stay in for years and know every nook and cranny of. One Lee Child book is fun, twenty is...hell, by then you’ve developed a frickin relationship with Reacher.

You know how there are 5 or 6 flavor receptors on the tongue? Well, I feel like there 5 or 6 taste receptors in the storytelling brain, and apparently fantasy is a big one. Sometimes you taste the finest thing in the world, but if you have too much of it.... You people who are into zombie romance right now, you're like the Big Gulp gang of the literary world. You need to stop.

Let’s say some of the above ten commandments are true. Then I want to know: What is it about people that makes them like fantasy so much? What is it about fantasy that appeals to people so much? What about all the great fantasy novels that DON'T get big? What are they failing to do, if anything? What sins have they committed? What vanities? What ignorance? Can someone answer that?

Good lord, this is long.

And where is sci-fi in all of this? Why, the movies and TV. Star Wars, Star Trek, Avatar, the Matrix.

Anyway, I’ve been sneaky. I’ve just told some favorite books and movies, except my favoritest of all, the answer of which is embedded in here in the most un-subtle way, if you care to notice. (How much do you really want it??? Ahh see, you don’t. More proof of the Zen mantra that I just invented: asking questions is a cheap man’s way of finding answers. Next time someone asks me what my favorite book is, I’m going to say paper.)

i said there were exceptions

It's Always About That

2011-07-14T19:55:00.000-04:00

I've had the craziest deadline for my next novel, Kingdom of Strangers. I mean CRAZY. And actually, I love it. Aside from doubling my caffeine intake and Twitter usage, and halving my sleep, it has prompted me to marvel at just how much quality writing can be accomplished when you put your mind to it. I'm a frickin commando! Already I am fantasizing about writing six more novels this year. And then of course I wake up.

Fittingly, I stumbled on this post by epicblackcar which asks the question: why does writing take so damned long? Because even when you're churning out 4,000 words a day, it still Takes. So. Damned. Long.

Here are the facts: If a novelist writes one novel a year, that comes to about 2,000 words a week. However, most novelists - I know I do - write about 2,000 words a day. So holy shit, people! Where did all those extra words go? That'd be roughly 400,000 words you wrote down the toilet. And that's just in one year. I've been writing for ten!

Epicblackcar suggests, in his second post on the topic, that our primary failing is structure. If we knew exactly what we were going to write, we would write it. But we're more like construction workers who gleefully build a set of stairs, and then realize it leads nowhere. (I encourage you to read his post. It's epic.) I agree that a lot of the slowness comes from the disability we all have to keep the contents of an entire novel in your head all at once. And the fact that you can certainly get carried away.

I also think it's more than that. There's some rhythm involved in how much you write and how quickly you create scenes, something deep and penetrating and psychological and mysterious, and you can surely change the rhythm, but you must respect that there is a rhythm and that it is biological. Writing is like any other bodily function. If you're not in the mood, then doing it can usually put you in the mood, but sometimes not. And don't be silly, you can't do it ALL the time. You'll get chapped. And of course if someone tries to critique your performance, they'd better be kind and loving and wise or you'll never really forgive them, even if they make you something to be proud of.

Anyway, back to my 2,000 words.

The World According to Bakheet Al-Anzi

2011-05-27T16:52:00.000-04:00

The humor trail here is familiar: what starts out funny turns quite appalling. A condemnation of some of the hypocrisies of the religious police.

And then I'll shut up

2011-05-20T23:32:00.000-04:00

It’s probably weird that the Arab world is going through a massive upheaval, Osama bin Laden is dead, and America has gone to war with Libya, and I haven't said anything. But honestly, I haven’t had much to say that hasn’t already been said in the millions of opinions floating around, so I’m listening – and trying to avoid reading about Bin Laden’s Porn Stash.

Randomly, on the night of Sept 10, 2001, I was reading this book:

Yes, I know, I know. I must have felt a great disturbance in the Force. Actually, it was published in 1999, 2 years before I picked it up, so I already felt I was coming late to the game when I opened it. From what I remember, Bodansky argues persuasively that OBL was a threat, and that Clinton-style responses to terrorism weren’t working, and it was only a matter of time before the big one struck. I fell asleep on the sofa with the radio alarm beside my head, and woke the next morning to voices – not the rock station I was used to hearing, but panic, a sense of emergency. I lay there and listened, and then jumped up in shock.

It's not hard to remember how this was a horrifically new kind of malice. We’d seen hijackers before so we knew about terrorism, and we had Pearl Harbor, but this was kamikaze terror on a whole new level, and it had happened in New York City.

It also introduced the idea that someone hated Americans enough to kill them indiscriminately. Or rather, that someone hated American ideology/government/foreign policy enough to start taking their rage out on ordinary people. (Back in the early days, nobody knew which.)

Sorry, it was time for a bunny.

Anyway, we were gobsmacked. Because normally, we’re that country that has to turn people away from our teeming shores because we know we’re awesome and everyone wants to live here. But we’re also that country whose citizens routinely travel abroad and claim they’re Canadian. Because everybody hates Americans and we know that, too. We just didn’t know they hated us THAT much.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past decade, it’s that there isn’t much out there – not much that we have done – that has healed the pain from that event. War in Iraq? Afghanistan? Drone attacks on al-Qaeda? Sorry, still feeling shitty. Some of that war has been necessary in regards to al-Qaeda, but no war, no matter how necessary, is going to heal pain. It’s just going to (hopefully) get rid of the potential for more future pain – while attempting not to create too much of its own. A contradiction kept in uneasy balance.

Or not

So the pain is still there. I don’t think about September 11 much, but when it does come up, it still has the power to make me cry. For example, just this week in the Economist:

World Trade Center

The Idealist in me feels a missed opportunity now that Bin Laden is dead. I wanted to see him come around. Watch old age make him decide that porn was all right after all. An apology would have been nice, maybe a few regretful tears. Because you know that no matter how fervently you believe in something, there's always the potential to believe the opposite, and sometimes the more vehemently you believe..... (Sorry. Idealist.)

Realist: quit cryin' about stupid shit and start worrying about the next one.

Coming soon to an airplane near you

Of all the things that have happened in the past ten years, the revolutions in Egypt and Tunisia have been the biggest slap in the face to al-Qaeda’s ideology of violent jihad. Although not bloodless, they were consciously non-violent. They’re a “screw that shit” to the fantasy of bringing back a religious caliphate. And every time someone demands a greater female presence in the fledgling Egyptian government, they are twisting the “take that, MF” knife in the chest of al-Qaeda and its fundamentalist corruptions of Islam. Yes, I just used violent imagery to explain non-violence. What can I say? Never lacking for tact.

Egypt, Tunisia, you are rocking the world. Every time you step forward, you’re not just healing your own countries, you’re helping heal some old pain over here, too. (Qaddafi, take a frickin lesson.)

Alaa Wardi - Maqool

2011-05-20T23:28:00.010-04:00

Some beautiful music that also manages to be "instrumentless" (if you don't count using your whole body and then some computer mixing.) Not to mention the awesome-est use of a beard on all of YouTube.

And for another treat, check this out: a cover of Fi Hagat by Nancy Ajram.

Danish Crime Fiction

2011-05-14T01:49:00.000-04:00

I think it's a little weird that Sweden and Norway are making such a splash in crime fiction and Denmark is the quiet sister. But Denmark has plenty of its own writing greats, and a few of them are soon to be published in English, so you Scandinavian crime lovers out there, put these on your to-read list!

Jussi Adler-Olsen. Olsen writes a bestselling crime series - about inspector Carl Mørck in "Department Q" - that has been published to high acclaim in 25 countries. Earlier this year, six of his books were on the bestseller lists in Denmark. Only one book has been translated into English so far: Mercy (at Amazon UK), which will be published this year in America as The Keeper of Lost Causes.

Olsen won the prestigious Glass Key award in 2010.

Sara Blædel, aka the Danish Queen of Crime, is another hugely successful author with a crime series that's been published in numerous countries. Her six-book (and counting) series is set in Copenhagen and features Chief Inspector Louise Rick.

Her first American translation, Call Me Princess, will be published by Pegasus Books this August.

Elsebeth Egholm. Author of the popular 'Dicte Svendsen' series. Her first book in English, Next of Kin, tackles some meaty issues: interracial relationships and the tensions between a largely homogenous society and its ethnic minorities. From the description:

Fear and anxiety have spread to Denmark in the aftermath of the London bombings. Late one evening, journalist Dicte Svendsen receives an anonymous package containing footage of a brutal murder and beheading carried out by a sabre-wielding figure dressed in black.

Frustratingly, Egholm's English-language translations are only available in Australia at the moment, but you can protest by emailing any of the following publishers.

Christian Jungersen has one thriller in English and it looks amazing: The Exception. An "intense page-turner," according to Publisher's Weekly.

Iben, Malene and Camilla work in Copenhagen for the Danish Center for Information on Genocide. Even before Iben and Malene receive death threats with Nazi overtones, the three friends had been ostracizing the new librarian, Anne-Lise. Though evidence suggests Serbian war criminal Mirko Zigic has been sending the death threats, the paranoia and fear of the three friends converge to make Anne-Lise the target of rising suspicion. Victimizing is part of human nature, Anne-Lise's doctor tells her when she seeks advice, and the novel hauntingly pursues this idea to its deepest implications.

The Charms of Denmark

2011-04-20T17:47:00.016-04:00

Until two weeks ago, I could take all the things I knew about Denmark and fit them into my suitcase. That would be Hamlet, Ophelia, Gertrude, Claudius, fish and Muhammed cartoons.

Then, thanks to my Danish publisher, Audioteket/Mrs. Robinson, I went to Denmark to support the release of FINDING NOUF - DEN SIDSTE SURA in Danish - and now I know a whole lot more about the place, including the fact that their annual crime writers' conference kicks butt. If we're comparing to similar events in America, I'm afraid we've got some catching up to do.

First of all, it was held in a prison.

(Already, they win.) The conference took place in the countryside, in a town called "Horsens", yet on the first day, 5,000 people came. (Five. Thousand.)

They even brewed their own beer for the event.

And yep, pink donuts.

The interviews I gave had me situated in front of the old prison guards' office, where someone had left the original wall decor in place:

So I talked about women in burqas in front of that. Gotta love a place that's comfortable with such a striking clash of elements.

They even did a television interview with me for a public show called Ordkraft that regularly features writers and the arts. (Go on! Really?)

Not to mention that it's always a thrill to see your publisher so enthusiastic about your book:

Bouchercon, Bouchercon, are you listening? Do you see this? I'm not sure St. Louis can top it, but alas, we will try.

I should have seen this coming. About a week before I left, I received my gratis copies of DEN SIDSTE SURA in the mail. They were some of the most beautiful versions of my novel I've ever laid my hands on. I sat around feeling them. I wish I could convey just how solid they feel, how when I touch the pages I get a quasi psychometric flash of paper traveling over drums, ink rollers happily at work. And the cover has a gorgeous Sistine Chapel feel.

So a huge thanks to Mrs. Robinson for the amazing trip to Denmark and the support of my book. You rock!

How Books Used to Be Made

2011-04-20T17:45:00.002-04:00

Aside from the silly intro about authors, this is fascinating:

The Invisible Hero

2011-04-20T15:39:00.001-04:00

Recently, I had a conversation with author David Corbett about his concept of the Invisible Hero. These are protagonists who are "stigmatized, demonized, or dismissed." Both his Latino-Americans and my Arab investigator fall into this category. The conversation took some lovely, surprising turns. So check it out here at Mulholland Books' blog!

Revolution!

2011-02-24T12:39:00.000-05:00

It's really exciting to watch the news about the Middle East right now, but Twitter is really the place to be. Some suggestions for people to follow/watch with the best news and updates:

@monaeltahawy - Mona Eltahawy, Egyptian columnist and blogger (http://www.monaeltahawy.com/blog/)

@shadihamid - Shadi Hamid, Director of Research at the Brookings Doha Center

@sandmonkey - Mahmoud Salem, blogger

@SultanAlQassemi - Sultan alQassemi, commentator on Arab affairs from the National

@abuaardvark - Mark Lynch, Foreign Policy

@weddady - Nasser Weddady, Middle Eastern civil rights activist (http://dekhnstan.wordpress.com/)

@AJEnglish - Al Jazeera in English, lots of good tweets!

And for some humor: @alqaeda "Working to expel the infidels..."

Inforum Event With Resa Aslan

2011-02-24T08:26:00.001-05:00

Here's an INFORUM event I did recently with Reza Aslan, Wajahat Ali and Najva Sol at SF's Commonwealth Club. We're "bridging the Middle East and America through culture".

What Goes Around...May Come Back to Shake Your Hand

2010-12-13T16:36:00.001-05:00

If I may paint a sweeping, if somewhat general picture to illustrate a developing twist: in the 80s, we paid a bunch of mujahideen to fight our proxy war against Russia.

We paid them to humiliate and destroy the Russians, which they did.

But lo and behold, in this century our mujahideen have come to the full fruition of their radicalism

Oops -- what's that, an Iphone?? Jeez. Mullah Zaif, you really shouldn't.

Anyway, the full fruition of their radicalism:

(moderates must be)..."fought and toppled"

So full that they were able to export the violence right to our teeming shore

At which point we went in to crush them, sort of -- and now, yes today, who do we turn for assistance in that crushing? Why....

Russia!

"In their first ever joint operation in October, Russian and American forces crushed a huge amount of poppy plantations in Afghanistan. This was the first time, since their ouster, that Russian forces stepped on Afghan soil. In another supportive gesture at Lisbon summit of NATO, Russia has allowed transit of armored NATO vehicles from its territory, apart from transportation of food and fuel." (quote here.)

Grandma, if you could come back from the grave to see this, you'd think that the politics of your lifetime were just a historical blip. And I know what you'd say:

Good grief, they went to war with the poppies?

Just kidding. You'd say: My goodness, what's next!

Very Nice!!!

2010-12-13T16:29:00.000-05:00

It's been a memorable year for the iBookstore. Not only did we open for business, but 2010 was jam-packed with compelling new releases in a variety of categories. Our favorite books includeThe Emperor of all Maladies, Siddharta Mukherjee's exhaustive study on the fight against cancer, and Matterhorn, Karl Malantes' unforgettable Vietnam War novel. Our fiction top-seller list was topped by Jonathan Franzen's highly anticipated, Oprah-endorsed Freedom, while Justin Halpern's hilarious Sh*t My Dad Says was our bestselling nonfiction title.

Download the iBooks app for the iPad, iPhone, and iPod touch and browse our collection of the year's best books.


Get the Free iBooks App Now

Best of the Best

The Emperor of All Maladies
Siddhartha Mukherjee

Matterhorn
Karl Marlantes

Packing for Mars
Mary Roach

The Solitude of Prime Numbers
Paolo Giordano

No One Would Listen
Harry Markopolos

Top Sellers: Fiction

Freedom
Jonathan Franzen

The Postcard Killers
James Patterson & Liza Marklund

Private
James Patterson & Maxine Paetro

The Lion
Nelson DeMille

The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner
Stephenie Meyer

Top Sellers: Nonfiction

Sh*t My Dad Says
Justin Halpern

Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang
Chelsea Handler

The Big Short
Michael Lewis

WAR
Sebastian Junger

Medium Raw
Anthony Bourdain

Enhanced

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
C. S. Lewis

Reckless Road: Guns N' Roses and the...
Marc Canter and Jason Porath

Nixonland
Rick Perlstein

The Breakaway Japanese Kitchen
Eric Gower

Louder Than Words
Joe Navarro

Mystery & Thriller

The Glass Rainbow
James Lee Burke

Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter
Tom Franklin

City of Veils
Zoe Ferraris

Innocent
Scott Turow

Three Stations
Martin Cruz Smith

Biography & Memoir

Just Kids
Patti Smith

Cleopatra
Stacy Schiff

The Memory Chalet
Tony Judt

Life
Keith Richards & James Fox

The Secret Historian
Justin Spring

Science Fiction & Fantasy

The Way of Kings
Brandon Sanderson

Changes
Jim Butcher

Out of the Dark
David Weber

Waking the Witch
Kelley Armstrong

All That Lives Must Die
Eric Nylund

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Ok, Pilgrims

2010-11-27T22:11:00.001-05:00

It's pretty damn embarrassing that a country that was founded on freedom from religious persecution should engage in this sort of thing:

"Not Welcome" sprayed on a sign at the building site of the Murfreesboro Mosque

But I guess it's not unthinkable for a country with things like this in its past:

Massacre at Wounded Knee

Our dark side's really showing with the Islamophobia lately.

Murfreesboro protesters, it's Thanksgiving, time to remember:

Commonwealth Club

2010-11-27T21:07:00.000-05:00

For those in San Francisco, I invite you to join me in a panel discussion at the Commonwealth Club this Monday, November 29th, with Reza Aslan:

Bridging the Middle East and America Through Culture
Reza Aslan, Author, No God But God, How to Win a Cosmic War, and Tablet and Pen; Contributing Editor, The Daily Beast

Wajahat Ali, Playwright, “The Domestic Crusaders;” Journalist; Attorney; Creator, Goatmilk: An Intellectual Playground Blog

Zoe Ferraris, Author, Finding Nouf and City of Veils

Najva Sol, Photographer; Poet; Co-founder, the Lowbrow Society for the Arts

In conversation with Laura Sydell, Arts Correspondent, National Public Radio - Moderator

American headlines about the Middle East often focus on terrorism, suicide bombings and escalating tensions. The mainstream media can create a massive American cultural blindspot around the literature, history and stories of the Middle East. A political commentator, New York Times best-selling author and an analyst on CBS News, Aslan is considered by some to be an American window to Islam. He is now looking to bridge the gap and share the best of the Middle East's literary leaders. Join the acclaimed author and contributing editor to The Daily Beast as he brings you the cultural luminaries from Iran, Pakistan, Morocco and Turkey and beyond.

Hope to see you there!

I am in a position to attest

2010-11-27T20:57:00.000-05:00

That Siloism is in fact a beautiful movement.

I'm sorry for the passing of this remarkable man.

Bouchercon 2010!

2010-10-07T02:38:00.000-04:00

For those writers going to Bouchercon next week, I invite you to a Friday panel I'll be participating in:

INFERNO: Where will the next big idea come from?

I'm not sure about the connection between "inferno" and "next big idea" but I know with company like this, there'll be plenty to talk about:

Award-winning Swedish crime writers, Anders Roslund & Börge Hellström, Israeli playwright and author Joshua Sobol, and Iceland's queen of crime fiction, Yrsa Sigurdardóttir.

So come join us! The panel will be moderated by the fantastic Mr. Ali Karim. From all the work he's done in preparing us, I can tell you we'll be talking about the conceptual aspects of novel-writing: where do your ideas come from, how to figure out which ideas have enough meat for a novel, and how to combine all of your big ideas into a novel with simplicity and good storytelling.

Hope to see you there!

Everybody Draw What??

2010-10-06T01:17:00.002-04:00

Here's a recent news article: Molly Norris, the cartoonist who started an "Everybody Draw Mohammed" day in support of free speech is now in hiding, at the suggestion of the FBI, after fatwas were issued against her.

First of all, everybody remember "Draw Mohammed"? Yes, I believe in free speech. But NO, I don't believe in antagonizing people's religious sensitivities. And I think certain people have amply demonstrated that this is a Highly. Sensitive. Topic. for them. Or maybe more like a nuclear-meltdown topic.

Second, whoever issued those fatwas: aren't you ashamed of yourself? No? Check again.

Finally, if somebody goes into hiding, isn't it supposed to be kind of, I don't know... secret? Not a news story big enough to make it into USA Today? Just sayin.

Apparently, Molly "distanced herself" from the whole thing once it got out of hand. But her original idea was that if enough people drew pictures of Mohammed, then obviously the imams couldn't kill them all, and it would make all those fatwas seem totally lame. But alas, it turns out that the opposite occurred: she went into hiding because of a fatwa.

So what was she thinking: let's end the violence by provoking more violence? If we stoke the fire enough, it'll just - poof - vanish? You poke a hibernating bear in the chest, chances are good it will wake up and kill you.

Lawrence Wright, in an interesting New Yorker article, points out that the whole cartoon stir was essentially fabricated by a few radical imams in Denmark. That before that, not a whole lot of Danish Muslims really gave a crap about the cartoons. (Yeah, but they certainly tapped into a lot of Muslim rage.)

So when you go around exhorting folks to Draw Mohammed, you're essentially stirring up a bunch of hostility, which is pretty much what the radical imams did. In my opinion, these are ALL people who want to go to war - that's you, Molly, and you, Imam Abu Laban. You're looking for it. It doesn't really matter what your reasons are - Muslim self-righteousness, free speech, whatever - because as far as I can tell there is a way to AVOID war and still have everyone be satisfied. It's called diplomacy.

So pardon me, don't use "free speech" as an excuse to stoke a cultural war.

Rice Pudding Cake

2010-09-12T13:22:00.000-04:00

I guess it's predictable that my next post would be about food. I've decided to share my favorite recipe with you. And believe me when I say FAVORITE.

It was originally all that talk about milk shakes that put me in the mood for this. This rice pudding cake is rich and creamy. It's the nectar of the gods. Think about it: Rice pudding and cake. Together. Is anybody ever going to be smarter than the person who invented this? No.

Here's what you'll need:

For the rice pudding:
4 1/2 cups milk
1 cup rice (vialone, carnaroli or arborio)
3 strips lemon zest
pinch of salt
1 cup sugar
3 Tbs. butter
5 egg yolks
1 tsp. vanilla extract

For the cake:
14 Tbs. butter
1 1/2 cup sugar
2 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 Tbs. baking powder
1 Tsp. grated lemon zest
5 egg whites

Start with the rice pudding. In a saucepan, bring the milk, rice, salt and lemon zest to a gentle boil. Slowly add the sugar. Simmer for 40 minutes, stirring it now and then. Don't let it get too well done, it should be a little gooey and runny.

Remove from heat, let cool.

Get to work on the cake. Mix butter with 1/2 cup sugar until light and foamy. Add lemon zest (grated). In a separate bowl, sift together flour and baking powder. Mix flour mixture with butter mixture. Don't worry if it gets weird and kind of hard and funky looking. Just don't overmix it.

Whip the egg whites to peaks, adding the remaining 1 cup sugar. Fold egg whites into cake mixture. And don't worry if this looks even funkier. It should be of a spreading consistency.

Back to the rice pudding: Remove lemon zest from pudding and stir in the butter, vanilla and egg yolks.

Grease and flour a 10-inch springform pan. Then spread the cake mixture into it, scraping it up against the sides of the pan and leaving a kind of well in the middle.

It almost looks like cake frosting, but it's heavier. Then add the rice pudding mixture to the pan:

See those cake bits hanging above the rice pudding? With a spatula, you're going to try to fold them over the rice pudding. It may be hard, and the whole thing may get goopy, but don't worry about it. No matter what you do to this cake, it's going to taste amazing.

Then bake at 300 degrees for 65 minutes. I suggest putting a cookie sheet beneath it, since sometimes it bubbles over. Once you take it out of the oven, let it cool for about 10 minutes before removing the sides of the springform pan. (If you leave them on too long, the cake will get hard.)

Then eat!

Food Fight

2010-09-12T13:18:00.000-04:00

This article was making its rounds on Twitter recently. A Saudi man divorced his wife because she failed to put meat in his sambusas. She put cheese instead. According to the article, "he beat her up, divorced her and kicked her out."

I guess Emirates 24/7 was having a slow news day.

I hope you're not thinking that this is a culturally specific event. The only culturally distinguishing feature of that story is the cheese sambusa, because you know the Kentucky man who went postal over breakfast this week was eating eggs and hash browns. Instead of beat/divorce/eject, he grabbed a shotgun and blew his family to bits before turning the weapon on three innocent neighbors -- and then, predictably, himself. He killed five people total, which in my opinion qualifies as "news".

And there's no sense in arguing that THAT is a culturally specific event, because here is a Saudi man who -- distraught over marital problems -- went on a shooting rampage and killed 12 people. There's no telling what he had for breakfast.

The moral of the story? Be careful what you eat.

Milk Sheikh

2010-09-09T15:25:00.000-04:00

Here is one incredible sheikh, Mr. Abdel Mohsen Obeikan, Saudi’s Vice Minister of Justice, who came out with new a ruling this summer: Women in Saudi Arabia should breastfeed their cab drivers.

Let me back up a minute and say that when people talk about “rulings” in Saudi, they generally mean fatwas, which technically fall into the category of suggestion, not law. Although certain fatwas can turn into law, or become so well accepted that they might as well BE law, they are still suggestions.

So here’s the back story. In the Hadith – the traditional collection of stories concerning the Prophet Mohammed – it is widely known that if a woman breastfeeds a child, she forms a maternal bond with the baby, whether or not it’s actually her own. This is more than just some fanciful spiritual commerce, this bond is practical. Let’s say a woman breastfeeds a young boy. Years later, when that boy is grown and technically no longer allowed to be in the company of women he’s not related to, he is still allowed to be around the women who breastfed him. She’s like his mother.

So this clever scholar, Mr. Obeikan, presumably advocating for women’s rights, suggested that women pump their breast milk and feed it to their cab drivers, or for that matter, to any man they might have to come into contact with. Think about it. This way women are allowed to interact with strange men! And no law is broken! No suggestion ignored! It works for everyone. The women are happy, and the men are... – can you just see some Filipino cab driver picking a woman up on a street corner, and she’s like: “Um, I’m sorry, I can’t get in your car until you drink my breast milk. I’ve got it right here in a little bottle. You can suck on it while we drive.”

The reaction was an appropriate lambast. A woman’s group who advocates for driving started using the slogan “Either let us drive or breastfeed foreigners.” Some women, aggravated with problems at work, have started threatening to breast-feed their male colleagues. The censors removed Milk Sheikh’s radio program, “Fatwas on Air”. And the Saudi government issued a statement saying only sheikhs approved by the King could issue fatwas from now on. In one way it’s too bad, because Milk was one of the staunchly anti-al-Qaeda guys.

The fiasco inspired this hilarious little poem that includes the word “pornistan.”

A little iPad with that?

2010-08-17T03:05:00.000-04:00

The coolest thing ever!

Anima = Soul

2010-08-08T02:52:00.001-04:00

So Sunday morning is the church of music video around here. God bless YouTube.

This is one of the most soulful and evocative songs I've ever heard. After years and years of wondering what it meant I recently found the lyrics -- in the liner notes. Ha. I might as well be unconscious. Milton Nascimento, you are obviously NOT unconscious.

Anima

Polish, all my quest, drama
Polish what my heart
At its most inspired
Saw fit to name
In a cry: Soul

Recreate every beautiful moment
I've already lived too much
Cross the borders of dawn
Look calmly on

Soul go beyond all
That our world dares to perceive
A house full of courage, life
Clean the stain on my being
I want to see you. I want to see you.

Traveling, a constant search
To polish myself, this minute now
To recreate myself, to gratify myself
I search for you, Soul

In the open house where the master lives
The clay of light. Where time is to be found
Inventing color. And bringing love to life
Where peace forgets itself.

Religious Police Promotional Cartoon

2010-07-11T11:33:00.000-04:00

Bet you didn't know the religious police had promotional videos. Found this thanks to Saudi Jeans on Twitter:

The two worst crimes of civilization? Unveiled women and beer, folks. Women and beer.

Beating the Crap out of the Police

2010-07-11T11:23:00.003-04:00

Speaking of Straight Outta Compton:

There's never any shortage these days of news about religious police. Below is a story about a woman who beat the crap out of one after her boyfriend fainted. And here's another, also about a woman who started shooting at one.

(His assertion that women can’t divorce is just wrong. Two of my ex’s wives divorced him and left him with the kids - because their new husbands didn't want them - and my ex had no choice in the matter.)

Qusai, Saudi rapper

2010-07-11T11:20:00.003-04:00

I like rap in foreign languages. Italian is tricky, sometimes clunky, and French -- well, it's French, so I start to giggle. (Smeeth and Wes-son...old favorite, plus a pretty cool video). But Arabic rap puts them to shame. There's something both flowing and emphatic about Arabic that lends itself to rap, and I really like the way Qusai flows between English and Arabic.

There's something defiant about using sword dancers and whirling dervishes in the dance scene. Like yeah, we borrowed this from you, but we're sticking to our own. (Watch the MC Solaar video above for an interesting comparison.) And kudos for producing a hip hop video without using women as sex decor.

However, your video is about having a career and there are no women in it. Yeah, you have verisimilitude on your side. Sort of. But seriously, dude, not one woman? Not even one?

I think you missed an opportunity here. What would this video be like if it was about a woman? Then you could have included a chase by religious police, family scorn and shame, public humiliation, and possibly even a courtroom scene. Or what if it was about one of Saudi's impoverished "guest" workers? You could have a whole gangsta-rap-in-Riyadh thing. I guess Saudi isn't ready for Straight Outta Compton.

Bestseller at Waterstone's!

2010-06-28T15:11:00.000-04:00

From my British publisher Little, Brown. Coming in at number 8!

Caricature!

2010-06-22T15:38:00.000-04:00

I got caricatured a second time!! Oh my God!! I LOVE it. AND I'm sitting next to Ian McEwan!! (Can I have a bite of your hamburger? Can I have your autograph? Just spit some ketchup on a napkin and I'll frame that.) This is from the weekend's Sunday Times in Britain:

I even get a little blue box like Stieg Larsson! I thought for sure you couldn't outdo the pink cat suit from last time -- but hello, IAN MCEWAN!

Times, you are AWESOME. Thank you thank you!!!

I have the feeling these are based on my British author pic - what Mike C calls my "Dame Ferraris" photo.

Hahaha!

This is brilliant, Times, thanks again!!

Me good. But not modest.

2010-06-15T16:47:00.001-04:00

Um - holy CRAP!! The reviews are coming in! A Publisher's Weekly starred review called CITY OF VEILS my "stellar second novel"!

And the holy crap continues! In the UK, where the book is actually out in stores, there's a Sunday Times review (the most thrilling part of which is Peter Kemp remarking on my "tremendously described sandstorm." I kiss you, man!) And a beautiful Guardian review where Laura Wilson says it lives up to the first novel. Hooooo!!!!!!

<-- British cover, by the way. Totally beautiful, LB!

Meanwhile, there's Sarah Weinman's fantastic review on Salon.com. The novel also got a rec on DoubleX (thanks Helene for the heads-up) plus read Hanna Rosin's funny blog post about Sex and the City 2 and its completely awful take on Muslim men.

Now off to swoon.

The Religious Police Go Bowling

2010-06-13T12:07:00.000-04:00

Really. Check out this LA Times blog post about the Religious Police trying to "spruce up their image."

Bowling is not the way I'd choose to go, but hey, they've forbidden movie theaters, dance clubs, bars, mixed restaurants, so.... I guess it's bowling, guys!

Denmark

2010-06-13T11:54:00.002-04:00

Denmark, you rock! This is the cover for FINDING NOUF, aka Ørkenmanden ("Desert Man") in Danish.

I'd really like to know why the publishing company is called Mrs. Robinson. As in...Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio, a nation turns its lonely eyes to you...Woo-woo-woo?

Goals

2010-06-13T11:53:00.002-04:00

From Biyokulele: "Saudi members of the King's United football club train at a stadium in the Red Sea port of Jeddah on May 20, 2009, despite strict religious taboos in the desert kingdom." (And despite an actual BAN on women playing sports!)

From the AP: "Sheikh Abdul Karim al-Khudhair said in a statement Sunday that sports are 'corrupting' and 'satanic' for women. Instead, he urged women to stay home."

Here's something satanic, man. I think you've forgotten the purpose of religion:

"After sleeping through a hundred million centuries we have finally opened our eyes on a sumptuous planet, sparkling with color, bountiful with life...Isn't it a noble, an enlightened way of spending our brief time in the sun, to work at understanding the universe and how we have come to wake up in it?" Richard Dawkins

Wow, that reminds me of THIS: "The pursuit of knowledge is a divine commandment for every Muslim, male and female." The Prophet Muhammed (pbuh)

"To listen to the words of the learned, and to instill in others the lessons of science, is better than religious exercises." The Prophet Muhammed (pbuh)

Unveiled on KTVU

2010-06-06T11:23:00.000-04:00

I am finally able to give full disclosure. If you've been reading my blog entries (here and here) about K, the son of a good friend of mine who has been imprisoned on charges of "being likely to commit a terrorist act" then you know the back story - and that I've been calling his father Mr. E.

His real name is Issa Fayad and his son, Tareq, is still in prison. I wish I could put the video here but you'll have to click the link - a KTVU news segment about the whole fiasco, revealing more detail than you've read here. It was originally recorded over a year ago.

Tareq is in a modern-day Japanese internment camp. People keep telling me that he isn't the only one being held on these charges on American soil. He'd have gotten more attention being at Guantanamo.

Edge of Arabia

2010-06-06T11:20:00.000-04:00

Recently came across this fantastic exhibition of contemporary Saudi art: Edge of Arabia. A really cool site. From the looks of it, they started out displaying in London and Venice, but this year they're taking the show to Riyadh. I am deeply impressed, although I wonder if they're actually going to show any artwork involving female hair.

But look at "Tissues" by Ayman Daydban and tell me you don't see that blonde:

A Cover Song

2010-06-05T22:14:00.000-04:00

FINDING NOUF from Croatia

Bet you didn't know I was published in Croatia! Well, I didn't either until this arrived in the mail. I thought I'd signed a contract with Romania. Yes I may think I know something or two about the world and then a thing like this happens and I'm just that kid who once thought that hummus was waste matter.

When you grow up in the army, there's one thing you do know - yes, even back in the 80s - someday we were going to have to kick Muslim butt. It was no secret then, but today...um, who's kicking butt? Do you know? Please explain.

I love this cover. I love every cover but this one sings to me. It's beautiful, Ljevak Publishing. Thank you.

While we're in that general part of the world (geography gong), this cover got my friend Beth's vote for best HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL redux. From Russia with love:

FINDING NOUF in Russia

Apparently this is typical of their style and it resonates with readers. Da, publisheriskies. Da. Любовь всё преодолеет.

AND here's a real song in case word play disappoints you.

Hahahahaha!!!! I mean, oops. Who let them in?

Guns n Roses

2010-05-29T22:13:00.000-04:00

This twitter headline stopped me: Sufis succeeding in taking on al-Shabab, extremist group with al-Qaeda ties in Somalia.

Um...Sufis? As in these guys?

Who's their leader - Frau Farbissina? Let's just recap. Sufis are those who practice the mystical tradition of Islam by spinning in circles for hours and entering a trance state. Warring Somali factions are...

Al-Qaeda.
Those who commit genocide.
Those who drag the bodies of American soldiers through the streets and use unarmed women and children as defensive shields in a fire fight.

Sufis are the om crowd. They haven't become involved in Somalia's conflict for 20 years but now they're sick of it. When the Islamists murdered their leaders and burned down their mosques, the Sufis picked up their guns (decorated with roses) and declared their own jihad against much bigger militias. And they're WINNING.

Impassioned by righteous fervor, they're like the 500-odd Knights Templar who defeated 25,000 of Saladin's men during the battle of Montgisard. And that is sooooooo not politically correct but let's just hope the Somali Sufis don't go down that old road to corruption, hoarding, and centuries of military-mystical secrecy.

"Reason is the illusion of reality." - Sufi master Inayat Khan.

A Happier Sheikh

2010-05-18T20:20:00.000-04:00

Sheikh Mohammed, his wife Princess Haya, and Truly Royal

Sometimes I hear an inner voice, and yesterday it said “Maktoum.”

The Maktoums are the royal family of Dubai, and apparently they have transformed horse racing in the past 40 years – for better or worse is a subject of debate. So despite being really busy, I found an hour to sit at the Keeneland library and browse through their considerable collection of articles about the Maktoums.

One thing jumped out. A quote by Sheikh Mohammed, current ruler of Dubai and owner of Godolphin Farms:

Best movie EVER

“Don’t forget that horses have been bred for centuries by Arabic tribes. They were used for hunting and fighting and they symbolize our history. Horse riding is more than merely sitting on a horse’s back. It is nobility and chivalry.”

I like that. Except... it looks like 300 years of Europeans and Americans breeding thoroughbreds is kind of a blip on the Arabian radar. The Sheikh comes to Lexington every year, spends millions on the best horses, then ships a lot of them back to Dubai. There's even a billboard in Dubai that says: Godolphin, Bringing the Racehorse Home. Just wondering at what point a horse becomes a Kentuckian...?

Nobility, chivalry, cultural preeminence. Then you have the regular folks, like this guy and his horse. I mean, poodle. (Is that a baseball base?) The footage is beautiful, although it makes me kinda nervous. Maybe it's the whole romping-with-a-thousand-pound-animal thing.

Bull Sheikh

2010-05-12T17:03:00.000-04:00

Dear Anwar,

I read the recent NY Times article about you - well, the "you" who inspired the 9/11 hijackers and who is the only American on the government’s “go ahead and kill the guy” terrorism list.

Don’t think I forgot you were born in New Mexico, you grew up in Nebraska and Minnesota, and went to college in Denver. Let’s face it, you’re a corn-fed American boy who happens to have weird cousins. Everybody knows when you put the words “Yemeni” and “tribal” together you have some serious fringe.

Your whole life you’ve had one foot in both worlds. Which might explain that whole phase you went through being imam of the San Diego mosque. You were so devout you wouldn’t shake women’s hands, but you got arrested twice for soliciting prostitutes. Couldn’t make up your mind.

Well it sounds like you finally did. Mr. Peaceful Muslim Cleric (“We came here to build, not to destroy” – remember saying that?) and now you’re pretty much al-Qaeda’s number 2.

The big question the NY Times article didn’t quite answer is: What made up your mind?

That’s a rhetorical question. I see straight through you. It’s maddening to live with a split identity. Maddening. You may think you know who you are, but years and years of trying to conform to two different value systems will wear you down.

In your own words, “I could not be ‘Mohammed’ in the morning and ‘Mo’ in the evening.”

Then comes the break. Maybe old friend psychosis, maybe depression, rage. And there you lie on a desert floor, on a starless night of the black moon, terrified of what will become of you. When you reach that point you have only one option: you have to wait. IF you act in the darkness, it will only be compensation. You’re acting out of panic, not because you see the light.

Your dark moon happened in a prison in Yemen. So you panicked. Whenever you do that, you seize the thing that’s most comforting. You decided to radicalize. Why is that easy? Because now you have answers. It can be overwhelming to make decisions all the time. Fat or low fat? Blow up the Twin Towers or coach the soccer team? Virgin or whore? Ahhh, but think how comforting it is to spill into that pillowed realm of RULES. Where everyone agrees that this is wrong and that is right. No fat. Blow it up. 70 Virgins. End of story. Now all of your actions come with blessings from a high, holy place and you can rest assured.

Things get dark for me, too. And when they do, I always do the same damn thing: I run away. Facing down the abyss? Watch how fast I can get my ass to Memphis. You can romanticize it and call me a gypsy, but when I’m running, I’m a coward.

I recognize the panic in your running. But Anwar, it’s not the answer. I say this to you as someone who has recently realized the truth and is determined not to run away anymore. (She says.) I know it’s hard. Okay, it’s impossible. But you have to try. Me? I’m just some writer. But YOU have the power to influence millions. What you’re doing now is only compensation. To find the right answer, you have to lie still and wait out the darkness until you really see the light.

Zoe

The Universal Symbol for...

2010-05-07T14:16:00.000-04:00

This just cracks me up. Muslim country signage, what are you saying? The best I can figure, going clockwise from 0700 is:

No smoking
No men in capes
No couples holding hands
No pacemakers (Or perhaps: no t-shirts with big red circles and a slash on them? Oh, all right...no t-shirts.)
No cleavage
No touching women's asses
and in the center: no beer!!

If we had a sign like this on a street in America, I'm thinking it wouldn't be that different. It would say: No smoking. No nudity. No dogs. No dog shit. No parking. No touching women's asses. And no alcohol in open containers. And of course:

Old School Fairuz

2010-05-06T21:13:00.000-04:00

Fairuz is the Middle Eastern equivalent of -- well, no one. Roll up Madonna with Celine and Britney Spears, triple their discographies, and add a little bit of Cher. That's Fairuz. She’s been singing since the 40s.

This song is super old school, but it's one of the most beautiful songs in the Arabic language. And sadly, this video is the best YouTube has to offer. It's called “Ishar”. According to my brother-in-law, that doesn't just mean "stay", it means "stay the night", and Hans Wehr concurs. I love that Arabic has a specific word for that. Sahira. It also means to watch over something. An evening vigil.
Following I've added my own very rough translation.

Stay

Stay the night
And again, stay
It will help you find your way
[repeat]
The neighbors are here
They'll leave in a while
And we'll have all the sweetness
Of the moon in our house
And the flowers and poet's tales
So just stay, stay
[repeat]
The night won't let you go back
Your house is too far
And we are the most worthy
Of your company
[repeat]
I open the doors
And call to my friends
I say the moon is here
And the world will snow
News of your return
Just stay, stay the night
[refrain]
And sleep,
who wants it but the children?
Their holidays are sleep
As long as you are here
A dream that fills the universe
What does it matter if the night flies away
And you lose just one day?
Just stay, stay.

Derby Day and Secretariat

2010-05-02T14:43:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was Derby day. At one point, a man in a mud suit stood in front of me and said: Would you look at this? One man in mud, one woman in white. You and me are polar opposites of the Derby experience right here! There was so much mud on his body that even the pouring rain didn’t wash it off. He begged me to take a poncho.

Weirdly, it was the mud folks who were standing around drinking juleps and smoking cigars (in between rolling on the ground in a very amy winehouse kind of way). All the well-dressed folks were hiding out under giant plastic bags and trying not to spill their nacho cheese. :)

But somebody REALLY enjoyed the mud:

a nice story here

A horse named Super Saver won the Derby. In case you’re wondering, the rule about horse naming is no repeats.

Diane Lane was there, probably to plug the new Disney movie about Secretariat, based on an “impossible true story” (love it!) You can watch the trailer here, but I like the unofficial one better. The end of the Belmont just kills me. I really hope Disney manages to capture the magic of this video:

Habeas Torpor

2010-05-02T14:36:00.001-04:00

In an earlier blog post I mentioned the plight of K, the son of a Saudi friend of mine who was stopped at the airport on his arrival in San Francisco because his laptop was carrying images of the wars in Chechnya and Palestine. K was arrested that day, and for the past three and a half years has been held in a California prison on the charges of “being likely to commit a terrorist act.” Their main evidence? About a decade ago, he donated the equivalent of $1.90 to a mosque in Palestine, which was later taken over by Hamas. So he has “officially” admitted to sponsoring terrorism.

After years of wrestling in the bureaucratic mud pit, K’s father, Mr. E, finally threw up his hands and said: okay, fine, just send my poor boy back to the Middle East. PLEASE! Just send him back. Get him out of that prison. The government agreed, although it took them a few months to discover that they could not arrange a visa for him. Now that K has been held in an American prison on terrorism charges, no country will take him, thank you very much. You keep your terrorists.

The last option? Habeas corpus. I had to look it up in Wiki because Latin words befuddle me:

“a summons with the force of a court order, addressed to the custodian (e.g. a prison official) demanding that a prisoner be taken before the court, and with proof of authority allowing the court to determine if that custodian has lawful authority to detain the person; if not, the person shall be released from custody.”

Okay, so in other words, put your cards on the table, hoss! Let’s see what you've got! In order to do this, Mr. E has had to go to the 9th Circuit court (which, because of a slight accent, he pronounces “9th Circus court”) and yes, it has taken them 2 months now to “open” the case officially, because the government had to “approve” it first.

Sounds Guantanamo. Over the past few years, the Supreme Court, circuit and federal appeals courts, and Potus have all asserted the right of habeas corpus for enemy combatants. So can we take K out of his orange jumpsuit now, pull his Quran out of the toilet and let him go? Because they’ve investigated him all over the Middle East and found nothing.

NUH-THING. No summer camps in Pakistan. No unexplained flying lessons. No briefcase with blueprints of Candlestick Park. That’s old school terror. Everyone who knows about this case thinks that K must be much scarier than some Mohammed Atta knock-off: K is a computer geek. Maybe he came here to finish his Masters so he could, I don’t know…disable the federal government with the click of a button?

Guantanamo is a schande but look at some of the nasties they’re holding – like Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, Mr. Honk if You Like War Crimes Against Civilians. Um, tell us again why you need 50 aliases? Actually, his record is so long you have to wonder if he’s not Sheikh Walter Mitty. Meanwhile, K remains in prison on American soil and they can’t come up with more than $1.90?

Cold Comfort

2010-04-25T09:00:00.000-04:00

"Malinconia"

Sometimes life just wants to snatch your purse, but for some dumb reason you fight back and wind up in a stretcher in the cosmic ER. Other times it comes at you, execution style. Soul-wrenching agony when the universe explodes and you’re one step beyond the event horizon, being pulled into a dark eternity.

But there’s one thing I can rely on in a crisis: that someone will tell me: this is important for your writing. It’s happening for a reason. Put this in your next book. Make sure you speak from this pain….

Wait, you mean share THIS with the world? Why the hell would they want it?

Yes, characters have to go through conflict and suffering, otherwise they’re boring. But do you have to experience schizophrenia to comprehend how horrible and destructive it can be? No, you do not. You are a writer because you have imagination and empathy and insight. Because you’re paying attention to how things run. Because you’ve seen a lot of shit and you took notes.

In fact, you like manipulating stories and making things happen to other people. (My sister always jokes that JK Rowling is a sadist. Who else would kill one of the Weasley twins?) The point is, those bad things aren’t happening to you, puppet master. For once, you get to pull the strings. And maybe your nightmares hide for a while. Huzzah. Then again, maybe they don't.

Let's say your husband dies in a tragic hunting accident. Is anyone going to say: think what this will do for your sex life! Yeah, they might think it, but let's hope they're not graceless.

Nobody cares what a writer’s motives are. People are readers. They feel an inner call, too, and it has something to do with whether they can get to the end of your book – and still want more. So folks, next time your writer crashes into their dark side, don’t tell them it’s going to authenticate their art. Tell them to make sure it doesn’t ruin their plans.

Ibn Arabi, Pentecostals, and the lovely Mr. Khan

2010-04-24T19:16:00.001-04:00

Oh no, you’re saying. Not another obsolete medieval Muslim poet!!!

Yes, I’m afraid. Yes. But afterwards we can have snack and recess. Ibn Arabi rocks for one big reason: he taught that even though God is “out there,” he is also IN YOU. Each person is a piece of God.

This makes me think of the earth as a big brain, and every person as a kind of neuron. If you put it all together, you get a big fat consciousness somewhere. Now being irreverent: what if that consciousness isn’t fully “conscious” yet? But trying to be?

I think this is what most mystics believe: that by giving up material concerns and meditating on the “oneness of being”, they will elevate the consciousness of the world. The preferred way of doing this is by getting into a trance state. Like meditation. Or Gnawa music. Or whirling in a circle for hours. In fact, one word: PENTECOSTALS!!!

Anyway, this morning’s way of doing it is by listening to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

This song just BEGS you to jump up, clap your hands, and spin in circles in your living room!

So what's the point of trance? The Sufis say that, like sex, you have to experience it in order to understand it. NOT an answer! But both things can have something in common.

Wonder,
A garden among the flames!

My heart can take on any form:
A meadow for gazelles
A cloister for monks,
For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka'aba for the circling pilgrim,
Tables of the Torah,
The scrolls of the Quran.

My creed is Love;
Wherever its caravan turns along the way,
That is my belief,
My faith.

- Ibn Arabi

Saudi Flasher

2010-04-22T22:27:00.000-04:00

People often ask if that flasher scene in FINDING NOUF could possibly be real. And yes, I've had a number of people tell me they were flashed by women in Saudi Arabia. These are people not inclined to exaggeration either. Think about it: it makes sense that even the most modest of women might someday start wanting to get out from under that big black abaaya. Everyone's got their own tolerance level. I know that when I left Saudi -- well let's just say it's what the CIA refers to as "blowback."

Recently I came across this crazy photo which seems to sum it all up for me.

Let's not share that

2010-04-22T16:53:00.001-04:00

People are forever analyzing my failed marriage this way: you two had nothing in common. My ex was a Muslim, part-Saudi, part-Palestinian Bedouin who grew up in Jeddah. I was a white, all-American, Christian who grew up on an army base in San Francisco. But actually we had more in common than you’d think.

For example, we were both accustomed to “calls” ringing out a few times a day. For him, the Muslim call to prayer. For me, taps and reveille. In each case, you had to stop what you were doing and turn toward something – Mecca or the central flagpole. And in each case, neither one of us turned.

In Saudi, one of the concepts behind men wearing white and women wearing black is that the uniformity is a great social “leveler”. You’re all the same in front of Allah. The military, too, has a passion for leveling, sticking the heart surgeons in the same quarters as the accountants. And of course they love uniforms.

And aren’t army brats nomads of a sort?

Not to mention that we both came from cities where men liked to hold hands:

I will admit that there were a couple of things we didn’t have in common: a rejection of BLTs and miniskirts, and an abiding fondness for polygamy. But we did agree on one thing: anti-Semitism sucks.

In fact, my ex was so concerned about it, that he once came to a screeching halt on the NY Thruway to assist some stranded travelers who happened to be Hasidic Jews. (I believe to this day that this was his sole motivation because, despite being an auto mechanic, he never stopped for anyone.) After determining that their car was unfixable, he loaded them into the backseat of ours and sped off to deliver them safely to their uncle’s house in Albany, 20 miles out of our way.

The befuddled travelers had some difficulty with my ex’s enthusiasm. (“Brothers, we all come from the same God! We should learn to share the land he gave us!”) But when his words of comfort failed to stop them from squirming, my ex turned to me and whispered: “Maybe you should cover your hair.”

I reluctantly agreed. Sure enough, once I was covered, the men smiled at my ex and seemed to relax. Well, would you look at that? You guys do have something in common after all.

Mazel tov. And sayonara.

NOT hilarious

2010-04-20T21:24:00.000-04:00

From a Pizza Hut in Jeddah

Polygamy: the other white meat

2010-04-20T20:07:00.001-04:00

Talking with all kinds of people in Kentucky, I notice a trend: they like the wealthy sheikhs from Saudi Arabia and Dubai who own horse farms here. They respect their abiding passion for horses. Arab hospitality is something to love. But then they’ll pull you aside and quietly admit: there’s just one thing they don’t like – all that polygamy.

I can’t disagree with that. And no need to whisper. Saudis have the same kind of “my, what a disgrace” attitude on the subject of Americans eating pork.

One of the few times I’ve written a scene taken directly from a real life event is in the upcoming City of Veils. A police officer, Osama, answers a call to a scene of domestic violence. Officially it’s off the record because women are fighting and male police officers aren’t allowed to intervene in female domestic disputes. But Osama is a hero. He arrives on the scene and discovers that some co-wives are trying to kill each other. Their husband is unable to intervene. He’s just one poor guy against three murderous women.

The personal stories I hear about polygamy are not very pretty. A friend of mine in Saudi married three women. (Technically, four, although one was living in a foreign country.) The wives hated each other and wound up divorcing him. He was a drug addict himself, which is remarkable in Saudi, where the punishment for possession is something like “three strikes and you’re dead.” But eventually he quit using only to reveal – ta-da! – an underlying disorder. Nymphomania.

No longer self-medicating with illegal substances, he went to a family doctor for help. The doctor said there was nothing he could do and he asked my friend: “But you’re a Muslim, right?” Yes, he was a Muslim. “Then marry four wives – problem solved!” My friend blew up. He leapt out of his chair, shouting: “I already DID that! You don’t know what it did to me! I can never do it AGAIN!”

His complaints? One of his wives wants sex for breakfast, the other for lunch, the third one for dinner. And according to the Quran, he is obliged to treat them all equally. It’s not really about love anymore, he said, it’s about who’s sexier. His wives were constantly trying to outdo each other. He always had to act impressed. The truth was they cared less about him than about their own structures of power. Not to mention the COST of it all....

Can’t say I feel sorry for the guy, but heck, just a view from the other side.

Bodies: Whole or Broken?

2010-04-19T14:17:00.000-04:00

Browsing through one of my favorite websites – the Jeddah Daily Photo Journal – I came across something weird: the horse sculptures.

My first thought was that this is taking the concept of "breaking a horse" a little too far.

These horses are disfigured, as the blog author, Susie of Arabia, notes, because Islam forbids the depiction of a living being, so the typical way around this is to depict a living being with a part missing.

Maybe the public art in Jeddah is “broken” for poetic reasons. But most Saudis will tell you: it doesn’t matter what the artist does, the authorities won’t let it fly if it’s “whole”. Witness: pedestrian crossing signs.

The subject of wholeness makes me think of Nizar Qabbani’s poem, “Your Body is My Map”.

…chant to me
since from the start of creation
I’ve been searching for a homeland to my forehead

Limadha = Why

2010-04-18T09:43:00.001-04:00

Khaled Abdelqader, "Limadha." This song never gets old.

hilarious!

2010-04-16T09:21:00.000-04:00

"She can't show her hair but she can show her punk soul."

Arab technology: what the hell happened?

2010-04-15T22:45:00.000-04:00

I spent part of the summer in Salerno, Italy. In the medieval period, this place boasted Europe’s first medical school. They say it was founded by an Arab, a Jew, a Greek and an Italian. Think Harry Potter, and the Arabs were Gryffindor. The city was so cosmopolitan, its medical school so renowned, that people came from all over the world to be trained and treated there. They called it “opulent Salerno.”

When you go there today, you think: what, THIS little town? Its population hovers in the 60,000s. It’s on the shabby-chic side. Until very recently there was almost no way that you could learn about the city’s remarkable history – no signs or brochures, no significant museums.

But in the 12th Century, it was THE place to be. Thanks to the Arabs, they had the biggest pharmacopoeia and the best surgical procedures. So while the rest of Europe was creeping out of its civilization rot, Salerno was benefiting from its contact with the Arab world, which was flourishing in a golden age of enlightenment.

Wait a minute, Arabs? Enlightened? And Europeans backwards? Yep. So what the hell happened? Because, let’s be honest, is the world completely bowled over by the brilliant scientific, spiritual, and philosophical inspiration coming out of Baghdad, Damascus and Cairo today? Not really.

But we don’t thank them enough for their contributions, do we? No, we prefer the Greeks and the Romans. All that architecture and the glory of social structure. But what about early cures for syphilis? The development of sutures? Hypnotherapy? The first understanding of capillaries – and oh, by the way, an understanding of the whole pulmonary system? Not to mention some of the first successful eye and brain surgeries? Thank you, Muslim enlightenment!

Ever notice that the earliest pictures of Christopher Columbus – who called himself “Almirate,” or “prince” in Arabic -- show him wearing a turban? While we’re at it, let’s thank the Arabs for navigation.

In case you’re interested in going to Salerno, there is still some dispute about the actual location of the medical school, but there is a Medical School Museum, which is currently closed for unfathomable reasons. (Actually, from personal experience, I can say that it’s been closed for 14 years. And somehow every time I go looking for it, people direct me to the police station. For something on that fiasco, click here.)

"We don't even have science fiction"

2010-04-15T14:34:00.000-04:00

There’s a new Muslim comic book/TV series trying to sweep the world these days. It’s called The 99. The basic premise: there are 99 superheroes, each one named after one of the 99 Names of Allah. For example, the hero named “Sami the Listener” has the power to hear everything. In the interests of mass market appeal, the characters are all from different countries. (The American hero is in a wheelchair….) And they travel in groups of threes so as not to offend the strict sharia folks who don’t like girls and boys mingling alone.

I think it’s a neat idea, in a Pokemon kind of way. It’ll appeal to the obsessive collectors. But what blew me away was a comic-book buff’s offhand statement in an interview with the Atlantic: “This culture doesn’t understand the importance of comics,” he explained. “…Most writers write about social or political issues. We don’t even have science fiction.”

Um, there is no science fiction in the Middle East? Is this TRUE? I’ve never seen any, but that doesn't mean anything. At the very least, this guy is a “comic book enthusiast”. Am I completely American saying this: how can you not have science fiction? That’s like missing a head.

Mecca, Keeneland, Obi-Wan

2010-04-08T20:22:00.001-04:00

One of the most religious moments I ever had came when I was about to get married. We were standing in Sheikh Khaled’s Halal Meat Market waiting for the sheikh to finish cutting up a lamb. My ex was chatting with two guys that our hippie friends liked to call the FBI – the Freaky Brothers of Islam – because they wore dark suits and sunglasses when they went proselytizing. I, the lone woman in the room, stood off to the side, next to a glass case full of prayer beads.

I was looking at the wall. There was an extraordinary poster there, showing pilgrims at Mecca circling the Kaaba. I had heard about this part of the Hajj but never actually seen it. Hundreds of thousands of people walking around a great black box. Every pilgrim was wearing two sheets of white cloth. The uniformity of it, the singleness of purpose, and the sheer number of people filled me with a sudden sense of astonishment. What would it be like? What force gets generated by a crowd of that size – a crowd of people who believe in their actions? I could feel it as I stood there. The Halal Meat Market faded and I was swept into that immensely powerful, emotional current that gets generated when millions of people all turn their attention and energy to a single purpose. It was spectacular and beautiful. I actually started to cry.

Okay, it’s possible that Miss Walter Mitty was also crying about the wedding – the sheikh’s bloody smock, the FBI, the sound of a grinder? Hmmm. But that sense of awe was bigger than anything else around it. It got lodged in me as a shard of enlightenment. It said: here is something much greater than you, but strangely it makes you feel large and powerful, like you’ve encompassed the world.

In America, there are plenty of excuses to put yourself in a crowd. Ball games, concerts, parades. Sometimes it gets exciting, like the cheers that went up in Mann’s Chinese Theater when R2-D2 appeared in The Phantom Menace after a 20 year absence from the screen. But I have seldom felt swept into that singleness of purpose in a crowd, because mostly crowds are just loud and crazy.

Last fall, I went to Keeneland and saw my first race. When the horses came exploding out of the gate, there was a lot of raucous cheering, then a kind of quiet followed – some people holding their breath, others hooting for their favorite horses. When the horses got halfway around the track, they were so far away that you had to watch a big television screen to distinguish them. Around me, people were analyzing. “Look at number 5, he’s too far to the outside.” Some people were just yakking away about their kids and who spilled the beer.

But when the horses came around the final bend, the crowd became focused. The horses seemed electrified. They picked up speed. No more distinct voices. The upswell of individual sounds – cheering, shouting and begging – merged into a giant reverberation. It gathered momentum, rose up and rushed forward with tsunami-like force. I stood riveted, caught up in the extraordinary energy of ten thousand people all focused on something unknowable.

Then it was over. The reverberation died. Some people whooped with joy, others looked stunned. Perhaps they lost their bets. Their disturbed expressions made me think of Obi-Wan: “as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.”

A friend of mine says she has experienced a transcendent force in a meditation group. But Keeneland is all about sound and physical energy. By the third race, I was shouting. I don’t even know what came out of my mouth. I couldn’t tell you what my body was doing. I was beyond myself. I’ve been to ball games, but even then, the sudden explosion of excitement when someone scores a goal or crosses the finish line is not the same as that crescendo that happens in racing.

I don’t care where you find it, when a joyful crowd acts as one, some extraordinary energy gets unleashed into the universe and makes it a happier place.

How not to be a tortured artist, pt. 1

2010-04-07T01:44:00.000-04:00

One of the things that surprises me about book events is how eager people are to hear about my personal life. Why did I marry a man from Saudi? Where did we meet? What was the marriage like? And, crucially, why did we divorce? That’s the question everyone wants answered – the climax to the mini soap opera.

I can’t tell them. It’s not allowed.

To be fair, I have spent most of my life giving out information on a strict Need to Know basis, except for certain times when I remember I’m with friends and that I do not work for the CIA.

I consider book signings a “Kind of Need to Know” situation. When people ask personal questions, I give straight answers. And everyone knows that straight answers subvert the completely confusing and complex truth.

The weird thing about book events is that you’re presenting your work and yourself. If you were to reveal, say, that you are a compulsive gambler who has a personality disorder, a penchant for grand theft auto, and three illegitimate children with a Haitian sorcerer, people might not buy your book. Unless it was an Oprah pick.

So what are you supposed to do?

Put it in the pantry with your cupcakes, that’s what. Besides, can YOU come up with a good two-minute explanation that conveys the story of your divorce? Including the fights about the cat and why the television ended up in a tree? What about the psych ward? And the FBI? And don’t leave out the childhood friend who came to stay for three months, who claimed he stole a finger from the wax Hitler at Madame Tussaud’s and who turned out to be a telepath and a murderer.

That makes it sound fun. I love writing, because it does that. But the real tortured artist is going the way of Hitler’s finger. Where is she? She’s on book tour, acting like she’s never had a psychotic break. Trying to summarize a personality in the space of a one night stand, when it needs a marriage. Wondering what would happen if she did reveal herself, and it wasn’t pretty or particularly amusing, just something the family puts in the pantry.

Let’s face it, madness just isn’t fashionable anymore. Sayonara, Miss Plath.

Arab 'Idol'

2010-04-02T08:46:00.000-04:00

This photo just kills me. This woman, Ms. Hissa Hilal, is the only female contestant in the Middle East’s first Arab ‘Idol’ competition, held in Dubai. Now, technically Islam forbids music, so to keep folks happy, the producers of Arab Idol created a show for poetry instead. Very traditional, right?

Please picture this: a bunch of men take the stage. Like the bards of yore, they start reciting epic poems about the noble Bedouin and the great tragic romances of Bedouin lore. They pine for lost history. Then Ms. Hilal takes the stage and says:

Muslim leaders today are “vicious in voice, barbaric, angry, and blind.” She accuses them of being wolves who prey on good people. She calls their fatwas “evil” and said: “Killing a human being is so easy for them.”

This is a housewife from Saudi Arabia, mother of four, who leads a quiet existence. She then goes on to say that she’s worried that fame might interfere with her life. Um, how about the DEATH THREATS that immediately began springing up all over the internet? Hearing that she said: psssht, it’s not enough to send me into hiding.

I don’t want to defend the guys who issue those fatwas, but you said it yourself ma’am: killing a human being is easy for them. So either they’re scary or they’re not. Which is it? You might want to talk to Salman Rushdie before going home to Riyadh. And frankly, it’s a good thing that the burqa was covering your face. Bet Mr. Rushdie could use one of those.

It should be noted that the audience cheered her wildly and that she was voted on to the final round for her courage to speak to a provocative subject.

Kabuki and 77 Words for Love

2010-03-30T19:56:00.000-04:00

My friend Jill recently informed me that a small part of my novel was blended into a modern dance piece in LA by choreographer Jeremy Hahn called “Facets of Love.” This is the coolest cross-pollinating artistic thing my novel has come across. Jill was inspired by a reference in “Finding Nouf” to the many words Arabic has for love. The dancers wore kabuki-style make-up and used cue cards with Arabic words and their meanings.

It has been claimed that Arabic has 77 Words for love. I don’t know where that number came from. Probably it’s just catchy. There’s more like 45.

Many of those words describe particular states of love. Such as hayam, a love that causes someone to wander around distractedly, and gharam, a love so intense it causes physical pain. A lot of the other words for love also translate into basic ideas like “terror”, “slight mental confusion”, “derangement”, and “disease”. Yep. There’s also “chaos” and “civil war.”

I was hoping to find 77 new ways of describing that blissful, chemical phenomenon of passion…but no, it’s pretty much 40-odd reasons you might need a doctor. Yet there is one word I keep going back to: izaz. (rhymes with eee-GADS!) It means a kind of love that gives power and dignity to both lovers, but which still remains innocent and pure.

2010-03-22T22:13:00.000-04:00

And just today - the Dutch cover of CITY OF VEILS. Whoever designed this beautiful cover obviously hasn't memorized the "Hijab Checklist".

On the subject of video, in this book my victim is a filmmaker who goes around Jeddah filming immodesties like women eating spaghetti in burqas. Painful to watch...

2010-03-22T22:10:00.000-04:00

And the Israeli cover for FINDING NOUF from Kinneret-Zmora-Dvir

2010-03-22T22:05:00.000-04:00

A new cover for FINDING NOUF published by Avenue in Spain.

2010-03-19T21:02:00.000-04:00

THE GREEN ZONE

Self-indulgent activity #5: go see an action flick. These movies have certain rules that I like. 1) Someone gets threatened or shot with a high-powered rifle every ten minutes. 2) Cars or helicopters must explode at least once an hour. 3) You never cry.

These movies also have rules I don’t like. 1) The bad guys are Arabs 2) The other bad guys are Americans working with Arabs and 3) If Arabs are the good guys, they get shot.

Because I woke up before dawn this morning to see some horses, by afternoon I was ready for an action flick. So I went to see THE GREEN ZONE. Plenty of guns and Humvees. A whole lot of shaky camera work where you get a good dizzy buzz.

But just as I was deluded into thinking this was a typical action flick, a bunch of special forces soldiers start torturing an Iraqi. Then I realized that the bad guys are Americans working for the DoD. The good guys are Arabs trying to save Iraq from spiraling into civil war. And our hero is an American soldier who is caught in the middle. My, how times have changed.

It’s worth noting that Universal Studios considered the film a “flop”. I guess people weren’t happy with the role reversal, and a lot of people called it anti-American. (On my way out of the theater I heard some grumbling.) Michael Moore called it the most “honest” film ever made about the Iraq War. (Psssht! Okay, whatever.) The story revolves around the Big Ugly Thing We’ll Never Stop Talking About: faulty intelligence on WMD. In other words, an easy target. Blam! Brains on the wall.

Personally, I liked it. Although in the black-and-white logic of action movies, the Americans were just a little too evil, and the Arabs were just a little too righteous. But it’s not like that’s a new concept for people to chew on. The question remains: do other people beat America up as badly as we beat ourselves?

A fashionable martyr

2009-09-17T23:49:00.000-04:00

In Sudan this July, twelve women were arrested for being “inappropriately” dressed. According to news sources, they were wearing trousers, which is a violation of Sudan’s strict sharia dress code. That code – which applies to Muslims AND Christians, to the disgruntlement of many – has relaxed in recent years, but now they’re seeing a crackdown again.

Of the twelve women arrested, ten agreed to their crime, paid $100, and received 10 lashes each. (Yes, with a whip.) But one of the women, Lubna Hussein, a journalist and all around shit-disturber, not only refused to admit that she’d broken the law, she sent out 500 invitations to her trial and flogging. She quit her UN job so that they couldn’t provide her with legal immunity, and she went to war with the courts.

I love that she’s causing a stir so that people will hear her message: she believes that persecuting women because of their clothing choices is un-Islamic. Nowhere does the Quran say that women should be punished for their fashion choices. The law itself is vague and leaves the definition of “indecent” dress up to the individual police officer. Very scary.

Last week, the court found Lubna guilty of indecency for wearing pants in public. They fined her $200 but decided not to lash her – probably because, at this point, it would be too embarrassing for them.

These old fashion arguments are beginning to feel a little bit like the Arab-Israeli conflict: is it ever going to end? On the one hand, Muslims argue that the dress code, which in theory applies to men and women, is not just about “decency,” it’s about tradition and cultural identity. But plenty of other Muslims think that argument is bogus and say you can be a good Muslim no matter what you’re wearing.

I remember how weird it was to meet women in Saudi Arabia who were totally preoccupied with the hottest fashion trends from Milan, Paris, and New York. They put fashionistas in the West to shame – not only did they know everything about the latest runway trends but the Saudi women at least could actually afford them.

But their display of those fashions was severely circumscribed, because every time they left the house, they were still wearing the same big black cloaks and head coverings. You might argue that some of those runway styles actually look better under a black cloak, but still, who spends hundreds of dollars on clothing items that almost no one is going to see?

Well…let’s see: everyone who shops at Victoria’s Secret? My mother once got her hands on my VS credit card bill and practically exploded: you spent ____ dollars on UNDERWEAR?!! Well, it’s not all underwear, but yes. There is a secret thrill to wearing hidden, beautiful things. And Saudi women don’t wear cloaks all of the time – most of the women in their lives will get the chance to see those new designer jeans. And, let’s admit it, women dress up to impress women as well as men. HOWEVER --

When someone's going to put you in jail for going public with Gucci or YSL or just plain old trousers, something is very wrong. Especially when that law is directed against women with such exclusivity. What would happen if Sudan started arresting men for wearing trousers in public? It's not about upholding moral standards at that point, it's about upholding moral standards for women only. And that is simply indecent.

An Unpleasant Welcome

2009-06-22T13:20:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the blog! You are reading the first entry on my official blog that you can link to from my official website. Yes, bureaucracy is the source of much evil, but there IS something satisfying about that moment: STAMP! – it’s official. And you walk away from the DMV or the courthouse flooded with gratitude that your life isn’t over, that you can still drive your car or walk around in a free country.

And, sadly, this brings me to the subject of Homeland Security. A very good friend of mine, whom I shall call Mr. E, and who is originally from Saudi Arabia, has lived in San Francisco for 18 years. A few years ago, his children, who grew up in Palestine and Saudi Arabia, decided to come live with him in America. All went well – they came, they saw, they continue to conquer their surprise – until one of his sons, whom I have to call K, was stopped at the airport.

K was carrying a laptop with images of the war in Chechnya. Old images from public news sources. Feeling suspicious, the FBI interrogated him, decided he was fine, and let him go. Then Homeland Security stepped in.

HS interrogated him, and K, being young and eager, answered all of their questions, specifically: have you ever donated money to a mosque? Yes, he said, he had donated a little bit. He didn’t have much money. But apparently this was enough for HS to justify arresting him and putting him in jail, where he has been for the past year and a half, hung in bureaucratic hell, awaiting this or that injunction from this or that judge, or lawyer, or whatever. Dickens is ROLLING OVER IN HIS GRAVE. Kafka is laughing in his. Mr. E, warm and wonderful, lover of all things American, feels angry, shattered and betrayed. 100K in court costs later…well, most of us would be kissing our bankruptcy lawyers and vowing vengeance on the federal government. But Mr. E is soldiering on, because for him, this thing with America has always been more than an affair. Yeah, they might get divorced, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.

Arrested in the first place is kind of surprising, if you knew K. On what charges, you ask? On the charge of “being likely to commit a terrorist act.” Yes, you heard me. Their evidence? About ten years ago, he donated a few bucks to a mosque that was run by Hamas – which, about ten years ago, wasn’t even an official terrorist organization. But now it is. So officially, he has admitted to sponsoring terrorism.

All of this I have learned from his father. I keep thinking there must be more to the story, dark secrets that the government can’t divulge, and that naturally K’s father would deny. But I also worry that Mr. E won’t ever be allowed to know the full story, because there is no story. Or rather, it has little to do with the man being held in prison.

I think that bureaucracy can ruin the best of intentions just as easily as it can disguise true malice in the bright, clean setting of officialdom. Whatever is going on here, K, I want you to remember that you and your family have the right to the truth, and that we’re all behind you.

image credit: casoabierto.com

2009-06-10T22:36:00.001-04:00