[{"id":276824,"date":"2026-09-10T05:07:17","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T09:07:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276824"},"modified":"2026-09-10T05:53:58","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T09:53:58","slug":"heres-the-cover-for-american-occupation-a-powerful-document-of-minnesotas-resistance-to-ice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/heres-the-cover-for-american-occupation-a-powerful-document-of-minnesotas-resistance-to-ice\/","title":{"rendered":"Here\u2019s the Cover For American Occupation<\/em>, a Powerful Document of Minnesota\u2019s Resistance to ICE"},"content":{"rendered":"

Two days after Alex Pretti was murdered by federal ICE agents in Minneapolis, on January 24, 2026, we<\/span> published a \u201cLetter From Minnesota\u201d from the poet Dobby Gibson. As I wrote at the time<\/a> of the federal government\u2019s violent occupation of the Twin Cities:<\/span><\/p>\n

Children and their families have been separated, schools have been targeted, and two US citizens\u2014Renee Good<\/a>\u00a0and\u00a0Alex Pretti<\/a>\u2014have been murdered in the street. Over the next few weeks we\u2019ll be publishing letters from Minnesotans\u2014novelists, journalists, poets, memoirists\u2014that they might share their experiences, as both witness and warning, of American authoritarianism.<\/p>\n

That first letter turned into forty-four, in a series<\/a> that would run until February 20. These letters have now been collected\u2014along with a dozen new contributions\u2014in American Occupation<\/em><\/a>, an anthology to be published by the University of Minnesota Press on January 26, 2027, edited by myself and Twin Cities poet Su Hwang. We\u2019re very proud to reveal the cover, below, designed by Jeff Clark<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"American<\/p>\n

As the press release notes:<\/span><\/p>\n

American Occupation<\/span><\/i> documents an extraordinary outpouring of literary witness while the memory and consequences of Operation Metro Surge continue to reverberate in communities across the country. <\/span>More than a record of a single moment, <\/span>American Occupation<\/span><\/i> places Operation Metro Surge in conversation with the longer history of American expansion, imperialism, borders, and the US government\u2019s abuse of power against its own civilians. The collection asks readers to consider what happens when the machinery of occupation turns inward, and what forms of resistance become possible when ordinary people refuse to accept terror as normal.<\/span><\/p>\n

________________________________________________<\/p>\n

AMERICAN OCCUPATION<\/em>
\nCONTRIBUTORS<\/strong><\/h5>\n

Angela Ajayi \u2022 Anonymous \u2022 Charles Baxter \u2022 Victoria Blanco \u2022 Jennifer Eli Bowen \u2022 Katherine Packert Burke \u2022 Zeke Caligiuri \u2022 David Aiona Chang \u2022 Dana Chiueh \u2022 Heid E. Erdrich \u2022 Nick Estes \u2022 Nimo Farah \u2022 V.V. Ganeshananthan \u2022 Shannon Gibney \u2022 Dobby Gibson \u2022 Sarah Green \u2022 Molly Beth Griffin \u2022 Dara Moskowitz Grumdahl \u2022 Marian Hassan \u2022 Hedgiee \u2022 Laurie Hertzel \u2022 Carolyn Holbrook \u2022 Siri Hustvedt \u2022 \u0110enise H\u1ea1nh Hu\u1ef3nh \u2022 Andrea Jenkins \u2022 Michael Kleber-Diggs \u2022 Ed Bok Lee \u2022 Josina Manu Maltzman \u2022 Will McGrath \u2022 Jim Moore \u2022 David Mura \u2022 Nia Navarro \u2022 Sahra Noor \u2022 Kara Olson \u2022 Peter Pearson \u2022 Angela Pelster \u2022 Bao Phi \u2022 Kaia Preus \u2022 Susan Raffo \u2022 Marcie Rendon \u2022 Kate Romero and Gustavo Romero \u2022 Sean Sherman \u2022 Sun Yung Shin \u2022 Gabriela Spears-Rico \u2022 Michael Torres \u2022 Kawai Strong Washburn \u2022 Sana Wazwaz \u2022 chaun webster \u2022 Diane Wilson \u2022 A.E. Wynter \u2022 Kao Kalia Yang \u2022 Ahmed Ismail Yusuf \u2022 Michelle Zamanian.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two days after Alex Pretti was murdered by federal ICE agents in Minneapolis, on January 24, 2026, we published a \u201cLetter From Minnesota\u201d from the poet Dobby Gibson. As I wrote at the time of the federal government\u2019s violent occupation<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":276857,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43099,6,43095],"tags":[112238,8040,9957,9585,7584,275,128,5210,57106,762,41565],"class_list":["post-276824","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-design-newsandculture","category-features","category-politics","tag-american-occupation","tag-authoritarianism","tag-cover-reveal","tag-dhs","tag-ice","tag-jonny-diamond","tag-minneapolis","tag-minnesota","tag-su-hwang","tag-twin-cities","tag-university-of-minnesota-press"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a0U","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Your-paragraph-text.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276824","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276824"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276824\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276857"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276824"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276824"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276824"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276538,"date":"2026-09-10T05:06:31","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T09:06:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276538"},"modified":"2026-09-10T06:03:23","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T10:03:23","slug":"nine-novels-that-make-an-art-of-earnestness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/nine-novels-that-make-an-art-of-earnestness\/","title":{"rendered":"Nine Novels That Make an Art of Earnestness"},"content":{"rendered":"

Bennie Bosley, the protagonist of my new queer YA holiday romance, Pining for You<\/i>, is living for Christmas magic and Grand Gesture Romance the way Tiny Tim once did for that goose\u2014and I love that for her. But I did worry those qualities would make her a pariah in an Antihero culture bought into the idea that cynicism and irony are key ingredients to complexity.<\/p>\n

But while there are plenty of hills I can do without dying on, I\u2019m happy to get comfortable up here on Mount Earnest and stand by my own beliefs\u2014that sincerity doesn\u2019t mean toothless storytelling; that a hopeful protagonist invites high drama and big questions; that refusing to be bitter or performative is a reason for readers to read on\u2014and when they do, they\u2019ll be rewarded.<\/p>\n

Fortunately, I\u2019m in good company up here, and on the shoulders of giants\u2014not to mention a hobbit, a pro wrestler, and a robot. And the following books represent a rich range of literary earnestness.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as dignity.<\/i><\/p>\n

We meet Count Rostov as he commences a criminal sentence. The punishment\u2014confinement to the Metropol Hotel\u2014is designed to strip him of status and luxuries, and one imagines, to cause him to buckle and break. He does neither. Instead, he quietly chooses his act of resistance\u2014to remain unchanged. He arranges his room into a thinking man\u2019s sanctuary. He observes the rituals of food and wine even now, when there\u2019s no one to impress. Eventually, he approaches the job of waiting tables with the same pride as tying a cravat. By demanding dignity for and of himself,\u00a0 he preserves his personhood, but he also extends that dignity to those around him. Over the course of the decades we spend with the Count, his commitment to curiosity, civility, elegance, and beauty is sustained, and in turn, sustains him.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Tayari Jones, Kin<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as grace.<\/i><\/p>\n

Annie exudes earnestness in the face of repeated, profound personal devastation. Abandoned by her mother as a child, she spends her life possessed by the hope of finding her again. She doesn\u2019t naively believe her mother is perfect; she\u2019s driven instead by her determination to understand. And because she doesn’t have the means to avoid reality or live in some dream world, Annie\u2019s decisions\u2014to hold a place for the benefit of the doubt, to choose openness and curiosity, to seek the capacity for love in others along the way\u2014is even more powerful. The grace she has adopted in her hopefulness regarding her mother is extended to others in her life as well: when Lulabelle is prickly and puts Annie off, Annie refuses to give up on her, too\u2014and in the safety of her earnest grace, they loosen and lighten in subtle, heartrending ways.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Xochitl Gonzalez, Olga Dies Dreaming<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as authenticity.<\/i><\/p>\n

At the start of the story, Olga runs a luxury wedding planning business that might signal success. But Olga discovers she\u2019s searching for more. As she interrogates this internal restlessness she also questions the world around her, and into focus comes a troubling throughline: artifice. Wedding clients perform love instead of living it; her brother, a congressman, disguises his LGBTQ identity to make his political one more palatable; the gentrifiers of her neighborhood trumpet their changes as progress. Most looming is her mother\u2019s abandonment, wrapped up in righteous revolution. Throughout the journey, these realizations clarify what Olga really dreams of\u2014people who say what they mean and mean what they say.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Gabrielle Zevin, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as presence.<\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cFriendship\u2026is kind of like having a Tamagotchi.\u201d When a friend of Sam\u2019s is struggling with depression and he doesn\u2019t think she wants him around, Marx knows he needs to convert his original advice (\u201cIt isn\u2019t about you. Just show up every day to check in with her.\u201d) into code Sam understands. Marx does show up every day, but he never treats his friends like Tamagotchi\u2014there is no one size fits all in his programming. He understands what motivates or stresses them, and meets them exactly where they are with exactly what they need. Marx isn\u2019t the hero of this book, but his superpower may be the most potent\u2014a capacity to amplify our protagonists, slyly slipping them the cheat codes for every challenge, wanting only to watch them level up.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Rufi Thorpe, Margo\u2019s Got Money Troubles<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as a repeat performance.<\/i><\/p>\n

A drug addict, professional wrestler, and absent father, Jinx doesn\u2019t initially sit comfortably on Mount Earnest. But although he wasn\u2019t around for much of Margo\u2019s life, now that he\u2019s made the decision to be a part of it, he\u2019s unwavering. And while his fatherly advice is, well, unconventional (and usually of the wrestling variety), it lands because he isn\u2019t dispensing from some father-of-the-year handbook, he\u2019s always<\/i> talking to Margo. And he always shows up in Margo\u2019s corner, supporting her with choices that would be cause for coronaries among most fathers. Jinx proves you don\u2019t have to be perfect, moneyed, or so-called educated to be an ideal father and grandfather, and that even when it feels like the final bell has rung, there\u2019s still time to show up.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Becky Chambers, A Psalm for the Wild-Built<\/i><\/a><\/strong>
\n<\/i><\/p>\n

Earnestness as being all-ears.<\/i><\/p>\n

A blunt question launches this book: \u201cWhat do people need?\u201d Throughout this story, Becky Chambers presents existential questions like this, but also asks us to do something much more radical: listen. Dex and Mosscap\u2019s dialogue shows us that the path to understanding, compassion, and true connection isn\u2019t just being curious and paying attention to the details of another\u2019s lived experience, but the feelings<\/i> of it. And when these characters finish their conversation, you too feel inspired to seek the wonder only found by listening not only with your ears, but your heart.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings<\/em><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as extraordinary.<\/i><\/p>\n

In good times, Sam\u2019s earnestness presents in modest ways: an appreciation for small things (and small potatoes), natural beauty, and his grandest dream of all\u2014to win Rosie\u2019s heart. But when the Orcs come sniffing, those same qualities transform him from fun-loving hobbit to fierce protector. His extraordinary resilience to the One Ring is possible because what Sam wants most in life isn\u2019t power\u2014it\u2019s the pursuit of simple pleasures and ordinary joys. For Sam, friendship beats lordship, kept promises are more precious than gold, and there is no greater kingdom than the one he calls home.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Ann Patchett, Whistler<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as devotion.<\/i><\/p>\n

Queer stories (including my own) often make a big deal of found families. To many in the LGBTQ+ community, the notion of unconditional love might as well be a fairy tale; meaningful relationships must be worked for, maintained, and protected\u2014and as such, are rarely taken for granted. On paper, Daphne and Eddie\u2019s relationship was brief and lacked the connective tissue (DNA, legal documents) that might otherwise legitimize it. After four decades without contact, it is also ancient history. But once reunited, Eddie introduces Daphne as his daughter proudly and without irony. He includes her in his life without questioning where or how she belongs. He is unpretentiously affectionate. Because what even is<\/i> time when a connection was true? Eddie demonstrates what you don\u2019t need to be queer to appreciate: it is devotion, not biology, that makes a family.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Patricia Highsmith, The Price of Salt<\/i><\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Earnestness as instinct.<\/i><\/p>\n

In many ways, Therese is the picture of earnestness (right down to her appearance in Rooney Mara\u2019s film portrayal\u2014her eyes wider than the rims of Carol\u2019s martini glasses). And when we meet her, she seems utterly beguiled by the world around her, as if just about anything might pique her curiosity. But something about Therese keeps her following the breadcrumbs Carol sets down. Her own desires are complicated, mystical even to Therese herself, and yet, she doesn\u2019t dismiss them. Interestingly, she isn\u2019t guided by hope\u2014that would require knowing what she was hoping for. Instead, her feelings beckon and she follows, trusting where they lead without overanalysis\u2014until instinct becomes choice.<\/p>\n

__________________________________<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Pining For You<\/a>\u00a0by Stef Ferrari is available from Simon and Schuster’s Books for Young Readers.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bennie Bosley, the protagonist of my new queer YA holiday romance, Pining for You, is living for Christmas magic and Grand Gesture Romance the way Tiny Tim once did for that goose\u2014and I love that for her. But I did<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31924,"featured_media":276550,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43071,43069,11,43092,43135],"tags":[19340,71275,19341,1863,25422,410,24069,108540,95841,74730,2474,112129,13534,112130,665,38409,7560,79775,110248,74731],"class_list":["post-276538","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craft-and-advice","category-craftandcriticism","category-fullwidth-slider","category-newsandculture","category-readinglists","tag-a-gentleman-in-moscow","tag-a-psalm-for-the-wild-built","tag-amor-towles","tag-ann-patchett","tag-becky-chambers","tag-gabrielle-zevin","tag-j-r-r-tolkien","tag-kin","tag-margos-got-money-troubles","tag-olga-dies-dreaming","tag-patricia-highsmith","tag-pining-for-you","tag-rufi-thorpe","tag-stef-ferrari","tag-tayari-jones","tag-the-lord-of-the-rings","tag-the-price-of-salt","tag-tomorrow-and-tomorrow-and-tomorrow","tag-whistler","tag-xochitl-gonzalez"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Wi","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/earnest-books.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276538","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31924"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276538"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276538\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276550"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276538"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276538"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276538"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276827,"date":"2026-09-10T04:56:43","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T08:56:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276827"},"modified":"2026-09-10T05:58:31","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T09:58:31","slug":"the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-fiction-34","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-fiction-34\/","title":{"rendered":"The Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers: Fiction"},"content":{"rendered":"

Here are this week\u2019s Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers<\/a> for fiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the American Booksellers Association.<\/a> Compiled, designed, and distributed by The Independent Publishers Caucus<\/a>.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

1. The Calamity Club<\/em><\/a> by Kathryn Stockett (Spiegel & Grau)
\n2. The Odyssey<\/em><\/a> by Homer, Emily Wilson (Transl.) (W.W. Norton)
\n3. I Who Have Never Known Men<\/em><\/a> by Jacqueline Harpman (Transit Books)
\n4. The Birthing Tree<\/em><\/a> by Amanda Peters (Catapult)
\n5. The Poison Daughter<\/em><\/a> by Sheila Masterson (Slowburn)
\n6. John of John<\/em><\/a> by Douglas Stuart (Grove Press)
\n7. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 1<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)
\n8. Heart the Lover<\/em><\/a> by Lily King (Grove Press)
\n9. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 2<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)<\/span>
\n10. Stoner<\/em><\/a> by John Williams (NYRB Classics)
\n11. On the Calculation of Volume (Book I)<\/em><\/a> by Solvej Balle, Barbara J. Haveland (Transl.) (New Directions)
\n12. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)
\n<\/span>13. Taiwan Travelogue: A Novel<\/em><\/a> by Shuang-zi Yang (Graywolf Press)
\n14. Small Things Like These<\/em><\/a> by Claire Keegan (Grove Press)
\n15. I See You’ve Called in Dead<\/em><\/a> by John Kenney (Zibby Publishing)
\n<\/span>16. Helen of Nowhere<\/em><\/a> by Makenna Goodman (Coffee House Press)
\n<\/span>17. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 4<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)
\n18. The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother)<\/em><\/a> by Rabih Alameddine (Grove)
\n19. Sipsworth<\/em><\/a> by Simon Van Booy (David R. Godine Publisher)
\n<\/span>20. Lights Out<\/em><\/a> (Into Darkness Series #1) by Navessa Allen (Slowburn)
\n21. Writers & Lovers<\/em><\/a> by Lily King (Grove Press)
\n22. The Nudge<\/em><\/a> by Joseph Fink (Podium Publishing)
\n<\/span>23. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 5<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)
\n24. Kindred<\/em><\/a> by Octavia E. Butler (Beacon Press)
\n<\/span>25. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 6<\/em><\/a> by Beth Brower (Rhysdon Press)
\n<\/span>26. Culpability<\/em><\/a> by Bruce Holsinger (Spiegel & Grau)
\n<\/span>27. My Brilliant Friend<\/em><\/a> by Elena Ferrante (Europa Editions)
\n28. Victorian Psycho: A Novel<\/em><\/a> by Virginia Feito (Liveright)
\n<\/span>29. The Eye of Goliath<\/em><\/a> by Diego Muzzio (Pushkin Press)
\n30. Foster<\/em><\/a> by Claire Keegan (Grove Press)
\n<\/span>31. The Berry Pickers<\/em><\/a> by Amanda Peters (Catapult)<\/span>
\n32. Stitched<\/em><\/a> by Eli McCann (Torrey House Press)
\n33. The Eyes Are the Best Part: Deluxe Limited Edition<\/em><\/a> by Monika Kim (Erewhon)
\n34. Monstrilio: A Novel<\/em><\/a> by Gerardo S\u00e1mano C\u00f3rdova (Zando)
\n35. Carmilla, Deluxe Edition: The Dark Sapphic Romance that Inspired Dracula<\/em><\/a> by Sheridan Le Fanu (Pushkin Press)
\n<\/span>36. The Overstory<\/em><\/a> by Richard Powers (W.W. Norton)
\n<\/span>37. We Were Forbidden<\/em><\/a> by Jacqueline Harpman (Transit)
\n<\/span>38. The Butcher Legacy: A Dr. Wren Muller Novel<\/em><\/a> by Alaina Urquhart (Zando)
\n39. The Employees<\/em><\/a> by Olga Ravn (New Directions)
\n<\/span>40. Game On<\/em><\/a> by Navessa Allen (Slowburn)<\/p>\n

_________________________________________<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Here are this week\u2019s Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers for fiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the American Booksellers Association. Compiled, designed, and distributed by The Independent Publishers Caucus. * 1. The Calamity<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":74,"featured_media":269719,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43069,6,43070,43135],"tags":[187,27380,108921,111025],"class_list":["post-276827","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-literary-criticism","category-readinglists","tag-fiction","tag-independent","tag-independent-press","tag-the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-fiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a0X","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/04\/fiction-scaled.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276827","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/74"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276827"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276827\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/269719"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276827"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276827"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276827"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276828,"date":"2026-09-10T04:56:41","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T08:56:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276828"},"modified":"2026-09-10T05:58:26","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T09:58:26","slug":"the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-nonfiction-34","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-nonfiction-34\/","title":{"rendered":"The Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers: Nonfiction"},"content":{"rendered":"

Here are this week\u2019s Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers<\/a> for nonfiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the American Booksellers Association.<\/a> Compiled, designed, and distributed by The Independent Publishers Caucus<\/a>.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

1. The Rise and Fall of the Artificial State<\/em><\/a> by Jill Lepore (Liveright)
\n2. Crossing the Wine-Dark Sea: Journeys Through Ancient Literature<\/em><\/a> by Emily Wilson (Liveright)
\n3. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants<\/em><\/a> by Robin Wall Kimmerer (Milkweed)
\n4. The Gales of November: The Untold Story of the Edmund Fitzgerald<\/em><\/a> by John U. Bacon (Liveright)
\n5. Guinness World Records 2027<\/em><\/a> by Guinness World Records
\n6. Replaceable You: Adventures in Human Anatomy<\/em><\/a> by Mary Roach (W.W. Norton)
\n7. Is a River Alive?<\/em><\/a> by Robert Macfarlane (W.W. Norton)
\n8. The Book of Birds: A Field Guide to Wonder and Loss<\/em><\/a> by Robert Macfarlane, Jackie Morris (W.W. Norton)
\n9. No Prophets: The Fight to Save Democracy from Christian Nationalism<\/em><\/a> by Jared Huffman (W. W. Norton)
\n10. A Resistance History of the United States<\/em><\/a> by Tad Stoermer (Steerforth)
\n11. Notes to New Mothers<\/em><\/a> by Rebecca Knight (Ed.) (W. W. Norton)
\n12. The Wreck of the Mentor: A True Story of Death, Despair, and Deliverance in the Age of Sail<\/em><\/a> by Eric Jay Dolin (Liveright)
\n13. This Is The Plan: How to End America’s Meltdown and Save Democracy<\/em><\/a> by Ben Wikler (W. W. Norton)
\n14. Triage<\/em><\/a> by Claudia Rankine (Graywolf Press)
\n15. The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate\u2014Discoveries from a Secret World<\/em><\/a> by Peter Wohlleben (Greystone Books)
\n16. Man’s Search for Meaning<\/em><\/a> by Viktor E. Frankl (Beacon Press)
\n<\/span>17. The Salt Stones: Seasons of a Shepherd’s Life<\/em><\/a> by Helen Whybrow (Milkweed Editions)
\n18. Dark Renaissance: The Dangerous Times and Fatal Genius of Shakespeare’s Greatest Rival<\/em><\/a> by Stephen Greenblatt (W. W. Norton)
\n19. Forest Euphoria: The Abounding Queerness of Nature<\/em><\/a> by Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian (Spiegel & Grau)
\n<\/span>20. Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (and the Next)<\/em><\/a> by Dean Spade\u00a0(Verso)
\n<\/span>21. S.P.Q.R.: A History of Ancient Rome<\/em><\/a> by Mary Beard (Liveright)
\n<\/span>22. A Philosophy of Walking<\/em><\/a> by Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Gros, John Howe (Transl.)\u00a0(Verso)
\n<\/span>23. How to Relax<\/em><\/a> (Mindfulness Essentials #5) by Thich Nhat Hanh (Parallax Press)<\/span>
\n24. Stay Calm: Learn to Embrace Uncertainty in Investing and Life<\/em><\/a> by David Booth (Authors Equity)
\n25. The Wretched of the Earth<\/em><\/a> by Frantz Fanon (Grove)<\/span>
\n26. The Functional Home: A Practical Guide to Planning Intentional Living Spaces<\/em><\/a> by Julie Jones (Cool Springs Press)
\n27. Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses<\/em><\/a> by Robin Wall Kimmerer (Oregon State University Press)<\/span>
\n28. The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America<\/em><\/a> by Richard Rothstein (Liveright)
\n29. 53 Days: How Hitler Dismantled a Democracy<\/em><\/a> by Timothy W. Ryback (Atlantic Monthly Press)
\n30. The Beginning Comes After the End: Notes on a World of Change<\/em><\/a> by Rebecca Solnit (Haymarket Books)<\/span>
\n31. Morning in Marin: Zen, Drugs, and Ewoks on the California Coast<\/em><\/a> by David Perlis (Heyday Books)
\n32. Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation<\/em><\/a> by Kristin Kobes Du Mez (Liveright)
\n33. How to Relax: Hardcover Gift Edition<\/em><\/a> by Thich Nhat Hanh (Parallax Press)<\/span>
\n34. How to Dream (Mindfulness Essentials #12)<\/em><\/a> by Thich Nhat Hanh (Parallax Press)
\n35. The Glorians: Visitations from the Holy Ordinary<\/em><\/a> by Terry Tempest Williams (Grove Press)
\n<\/span>36. Talking Classics: The Shock of the Old<\/em><\/a> by Mary Beard (University of Chicago Press)
\n<\/span>37. Ursula K. Le Guin’s Book of Cats<\/em><\/a> by Ursula K. Le Guin (Library of America)<\/span>
\n38. Less Achieves More: How to Focus on What Truly Matters<\/em> <\/a>by Cyril Peupion (Bard Press)
\n39. Don’t Believe Everything You Think: Why Your Thinking Is The Beginning & End Of Suffering<\/em><\/a> by Joseph Nguyen (Authors Equity)<\/span>
\n40. On Bullshit<\/em> <\/a>by Harry G. Frankfurt (Princeton University Press)
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

_________________________________________<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Here are this week\u2019s Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers for nonfiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the American Booksellers Association. Compiled, designed, and distributed by The Independent Publishers Caucus. * 1. The Rise<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":74,"featured_media":266893,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43069,6,43070,43135],"tags":[108921,53909,1460],"class_list":["post-276828","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-literary-criticism","category-readinglists","tag-independent-press","tag-independent-publishers","tag-nonfiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-1a0Y","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/NONFICTION-BESTSELLER.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276828","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/74"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276828"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276828\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/266893"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276828"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276828"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276828"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":275683,"date":"2026-09-10T04:48:40","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T08:48:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=275683"},"modified":"2026-09-10T10:16:06","modified_gmt":"2026-09-10T14:16:06","slug":"we-never-called-it-frisco","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/we-never-called-it-frisco\/","title":{"rendered":"We Never Called It Frisco"},"content":{"rendered":"

They say we\u2019re a town full of losers. They say we\u2019re eccentric, eclectic\u2014marginal. Maybe I\u2019m exaggerating. But when somebody on the East Coast starts talking about a rivalry between New York and San Francisco the truth is they\u2019re trying to shaft us. They\u2019re saying they\u2019re the best. They\u2019re snobs. But I suppose we\u2019re snobs, too. Here in San Francisco we\u2019re proud to be the opposition. We\u2019re glad to be living on what New Yorkers regard as the wrong coast, with the wrong publishers, galleries, reputations. We are what we are. And damn the rest of them. Call me old-fashioned, but I\u2019m still flying the flag for the San Francisco Renaissance, all the poetry readings, mimeographed magazines, improvised galleries, experimental films.<\/p>\n

Of course, I\u2019m just kidding around here. Sort of kidding around. We weren\u2019t\u2014we aren\u2019t\u2014against East Coast success. Not really. Consider Mike, with his East Coast awards, still one of us. He\u2019s the real deal, though some of his poems, beautiful as they are, are a little too muffled for my taste. I\u2019ve said that to him\u2014and he\u2019s okay with it. He knows I think Partly Cloudy and Cooler<\/em> is a great book. Mike is Indian, Indian from the subcontinent. He\u2019s half Indian, to be precise. Father was some kind of import-export guy from Bombay. Met his mother in San Francisco. They went back to India. Then she bailed. Years ago, she appeared at a couple of Mike\u2019s readings, around the time his poems were starting to pick up a following. She was much taller than Mike, noisily talking to all Mike\u2019s friends, nothing like Mike. Mike, with his sharp features and small, dark hands, is probably at the Silver Spur right now, nursing his glass of vodka, two rocks, no twist. (Years ago I did some bartending.) He has a great head of hair, I\u2019ll give him that, thick Indian hair. Still living on the floor of a Victorian in the Haight that he bought a dozen years ago when they were dirt cheap, the down payment from his first Guggenheim. He\u2019s very proud of a group of small Rajput paintings, bought from Ray Lewis years ago, when Ray was just starting out, supplying Piranesi etchings of the sights of Rome to Nob Hill decorators but really into Indian miniatures, Islamic calligraphy, and other stuff he just thought was cool. \u201cMy Indian heritage,\u201d Mike says, only half ironically, about those miniatures with the tiny figures bowing to each other.<\/p>\n

Mike reappeared last week. There he was in the late afternoon, sitting at the far end of the bar at the Silver Spur. (I prefer a booth.) I happened to be in SF for a couple of days, printing a broadside for a poetry event in Bolinas. I was happy with the way it was going. I\u2019d started to put it together, using a funky old set of Garamond type, all caps, but a couple of the vowels, the A and the E, were so worn they weren\u2019t printing. I substituted a stark sans serif for those letters, and the result was kind of wonderful, the As and Es making a jazzy pattern weaving in and out around the Old World Garamond. Although I\u2019m content and maybe more than content spending most of my time here in Marin, things do get slow. As long as I can avoid rush hour traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge, I enjoy coming into the city to work on an interesting job, maybe hook up with some of the gang, sleep on the daybed in my shop\u2014if it\u2019s just for a few days. Anyway, I was taking a break from the Bolinas broadside. I went over to the Silver Spur. Sat with Mike. He\u2019d just spent a week in New York on some sort of awards panel. He made some cryptic remarks about how badly best-selling novelists behave when it comes to distributing money among up-and-coming authors. I\u2019m not sure exactly what he said. He speaks softly, not looking at you when he talks, facing forward on his barstool, elbows resting on the bar, so he\u2019s a little hard to hear, even in the late afternoon, before any money\u2019s been dropped in the jukebox.<\/p>\n

But this isn\u2019t about Mike; this is about Marcia, who also had some success back east. Of course Mike and Marcia knew each other. They both went back to Berkeley days. So do I. Marcia, with her dark bangs, was voluptuous or fat, depending on how you saw it. Zaftig<\/em> is probably the word. If I hesitate it\u2019s only because the Yiddish sounds a little odd, coming out of my formerly Protestant mouth. I was born a few hours south of here, in Carmel. My dad was an architect who\u2019d trained in London; he\u2019d grown up there but had the wanderlust, so he would say, and found his way to California. Anyway, Marcia was the leader of our college crew. She was bossy, sometimes overbearing, but I wonder if we would\u2019ve ever had a party if Marcia hadn\u2019t said, \u201cLet\u2019s have a party!\u201d Mike, although he hung around with us, seemed a little too straight arrow. Always the diplomat. Marcia called him \u201cthe ambassador,\u201d behind his back. She was catty like a schoolgirl, mean about the people she\u2019d tossed out of the club or at least threatened to dump. Marcia and Mike bonded later, a few years after Berkeley, bored or maybe annoyed by what they regarded as the daydreamers among us. I guess I\u2019m one of the dreamers.<\/p>\n

Frankly I\u2019m not always all that clear about the difference between what we were like in college and what we were like a little later\u2014or now, twenty-some-odd years later. Did we think of Marcia as girlish back then, when she actually was a girl? And what of Jack (John to you) Johanson? I wonder if I\u2019m confusing the Jack I knew back then with Jack a few years later. When we were still kids the moustache and the cowboy swagger looked a little camp. Marcia kidded that he\u2019d woken up one morning and decided he was in some old Hollywood Western. I remember her saying that to his face. Now that he\u2019s had some paintings hanging at the Museum of Modern Art, I guess people think the moustache\u2014it\u2019s developed the slightest touch of gray\u2014looks old masterish. Marcia wouldn\u2019t give him an inch. \u201cThose paintings only hung at the Modern for a couple of months, the museum didn\u2019t buy anything, so what\u2019s the big deal?\u201d Marcia liked to say it was Evelyn, Jack\u2019s wife, who was the really talented painter. \u201cEvelyn knew how to let loose,\u201d I heard Marcia announce on more than one occasion. Of course Evelyn had stopped painting practically as soon as she met Jack. I wonder how many of her things Marcia ever actually saw. But Marcia had a point to make, not so much to put Evelyn up as to put Jack down.<\/p>\n

As for me, I\u2019m not good for much of anything except keeping the old printing press running. I still know how to improvise a new part when an old one breaks down. I\u2019ve managed to keep my little enterprise more or less moving forward, getting out the magazine, Velocipede<\/em> I call it, a couple of times a year, publishing a few books of somebody else\u2019s poems, and then, once or twice, my own. I was just getting the press rolling when Marcia and I were together, a decade out of Berkeley. Since then I\u2019ve made a living from it\u2014barely. Marcia proofread the very first issue of Velocipede<\/em>. She was terrific, a whiz when it came to straightening out grammatical messes. If we\u2019d stuck together it might not have taken me another eighteen months to publish the second issue. But whatever it was that Marcia and I were up to back then, Marcia was too restless (or relentless) to really settle in with a guy she\u2019d first slept with way back in senior year. I was okay with its being over, although it was a hassle finding a new place to live. I liked her, but she also got on my nerves. Then, flash forward, Marcia was back on our coast after her triumphant five or six years in New York, and suddenly Marcia and I had been shacked up for two years. Or I\u2019d been shacked up with her, it was her house, after all. Her time in New York had come to an end, for reasons I never entirely understood. She could have stayed in Manhattan despite some career disappointments. If she had, I\u2019m convinced she would\u2019ve done damn well. Instead she chose to come back here and hang out with her old friends\u2014despite all the bellyaching she\u2019d done about San Francisco before she left and continued to do even after her return.<\/p>\n

But I guess I should begin at the end, or at least the beginning of the end. Which means San Francisco\u2019s War Memorial Opera House, officialdom incarnate, the full treatment: marble, red carpets, polished brass, everything academically symmetrical, twinkle twinkle of bright light refracted o cut crystal. \u201cOh shit,\u201d had been my reaction when Marcia announced that we were going to see yet another farewell tour by Martha Graham, the old bag still dragging around the stage. The piece was called Cortege of Eagles<\/em>. I think she quit dancing later that year. Easy for Marcia to say we should go see Martha Graham. She never learned to drive and expected me to find parking right in front of the Opera House: \u201cYou know how I hate to walk,\u201d she liked to remind me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got comps,\u201d was her reply to my, \u201cWho wants to see Graham, anyway?\u201d \u201cIt\u2019ll be a goof,\u201d she added, \u201ca goof, Burt.\u201d Marcia still got comps, lots of them. Even though she was no longer writing about books, plays, and art exhibitions, there were people who couldn\u2019t quite believe it. So the publicists for writers, theaters, and museums kept writing and phoning, even offering to fly her back to New York to see this or that, once or twice mentioning a free trip to Europe. She\u2019d get off the phone and growl at me. Whatever the project, her reaction was the same. \u201cI\u2019m sure it\u2019ll be a fiasco. I\u2019m going to hate it. And I don\u2019t have the patience for any more hate. Which means I have nothing more to say. I\u2019ve written the curmudgeon out of myself.\u201d There was a lift in her voice as she explained herself to me. \u201cI\u2019m a changed woman,\u201d she announced, only half sarcastically. She certainly didn\u2019t mind that there were people who figured her career was going to flame up again, with the latest Broadway sensation receiving the full Marcia Lang treatment in The New Yorker<\/em> or who knows where else.<\/p>\n

So there I was, coming down the aisle at the Opera House after a quick pre-performance leak, slipping past rows of what back in college we\u2019d called the squares, Pacific Heights professionals left and right, some of them still milling around in the aisles, making it harder to get by. Marcia was way up front, nothing but the best for Marcia. She was standing in the aisle, bent over Virginia Adams. Ginny, her long hair just beginning to turn gray\u2014I think she was a few years older than us, maybe close to fifty\u2014was in a Mexican muumuu, huge African beads hanging off her skinny neck. She was giving Marcia a fixed, concentrated look. Ginny just barely survives on some sad do-gooder part-time job. But the Opera House manager or assistant manager was one of our old Berkeley buddies. Back in 1949 or 1950 he\u2019d directed a Pirandello that he claimed was a West Coast premiere. He gives Ginny a ticket when he can. \u201cPoor Ginny,\u201d Marcia whispered to me as the lights were going down, \u201cshe has aches and pains in every bone of that undernourished body of hers. She makes me glad I\u2019m overweight. Wow. The old gang\u2019s sure all here. They must have been having trouble selling seats, if Ginny got a freebie. Funny. We thought Martha was so important when we were in college, and now everybody\u2019s here to watch her fall at on her face-lifted face. I really could write this up. Do a job on it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Heavy curtain up; the moaning of sentimental strings; lights rising on some wedges and rectangles of scenery, guys and girls, the guys practically naked save for bits and pieces of neo-Greek get-up. Something about gods and heroes, I got that, but I hadn\u2019t had a chance to look at the program so couldn\u2019t really make out who was who or what was what, aside from knowing that Graham was playing Hecuba and the Trojan War was ending and pretty much everybody was dead. Graham was there alright, an old lady pacing around the stage or sitting on a stool. I suppose the stool was designed by Noguchi, her longtime collaborator. She was rail thin, at least what you could see of her that wasn\u2019t covered by a cape of blackest black, her black dyed hair topped by some kind of golden headdress that matched a golden snake winding up her arm. She wasn\u2019t doing much, just ailing around with her arms and opening her mouth in what was either a pantomime of a shriek or a laugh, I wasn\u2019t sure. I fell into a funk, thinking how much I hate Greek myths and tragedies. For some now incomprehensible reason, I\u2019d enrolled in a semester of Ancient Greek at Berkeley, a nightmare that left me convinced not only that I\u2019d never be able to learn a foreign language but also that I\u2019d never again give a thought to Homer or Sophocles, whose words of wisdom, in pathetic little excerpts, I\u2019d stumbled over in the textbook.<\/p>\n

I looked around at our friends, scattered in the front of the orchestra. Ginny seemed mesmerized. Why not? Back in college she had carried around a dog-eared copy of D. H. Lawrence\u2019s The Plumed Serpent<\/em>, a book that many years ago I dutifully opened only to conclude that it was mythopoetic crap. Ginny had gotten so carried away with the whole southwestern thing that she ended up living on a Navajo reservation for a couple of years. She\u2019s still a sucker for myths and legends, so Cortege of Eagles<\/em>, whatever the hell it was we were watching, was right up her alley. Mike, a couple of seats past her, was dozing. Smart man. A couple of seats away from him was Jack, the moustachioed cowboy now the moustachioed scholar, whispering in Evelyn\u2019s ear. This isn\u2019t supposed to be about me, but I do wonder why Evelyn never seemed to like me. Still doesn\u2019t. On the rare occasions when I try to talk to her, she looks at me as if I\u2019m something the cat dragged in and dropped on her spotless kitchen floor. What does she have to be so snotty about? Anyway, Evelyn appeared to be listening attentively to Jack, though her eyes remained glued to the stage. Then the applause started. Cortege of Eagles<\/em> was over. What a relief. Evelyn, clapping respectfully, turned to talk to Jack.<\/p>\n

\u201cHoney, get me a champagne,\u201d were the first words out of Marcia\u2019s mouth. \u201cI\u2019ll be with the gang.\u201d To my skeptical raised eyebrow, indicating the overpriced bar and the crush of people no doubt already there, she responded, \u201cOh, come on, honey, the tickets were free, we\u2019ve gotta support the damn Opera House. And get one for Ginny, too, it\u2019ll help with whatever it is that\u2019s ailing her. She\u2019s got a lot of ailments.\u201d Off I went, though I do hate fighting the line at a bar. Fight I did, then back I came, pleased with myself to be managing the three glasses, handing them around as I arrived to the rat-a-tat-tat of conversation in the circle around Marcia, everybody more or less hanging onto one of the high little bar tables.<\/p>\n

\u201cI saw her in the forties,\u201d this was Ginny, \u201cthe expression was so pure\u2014it came totally through the body\u2014totally abstract\u2014no mugging, no cheap effects.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut can a body be pure?\u201d That was Jack, bringing it around to himself. His drawings of nudes sprawled on the daybed in his studio were up in one of the few good galleries in town. Those drawings were still a little shocking. Some of our friends, who\u2019d assumed that abstract art was all that any longer really mattered, were wondering if Jack\u2019s nudes were radical or retro or if retro was the new radical.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Jack, your nudes aren\u2019t pure.\u201d That was Mike, his face fixed in his customary half smile, so you weren\u2019t sure if he was being ironic or not.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019re certainly not meant to be ironic,\u201d Jack returned, professorial, a little heated.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyway,\u201d Ginny pursued, ignoring the men, \u201call the mugging and eye rolling, it\u2019s Martha betraying Martha.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t like Greek Kabuki?\u201d Mike pressed her, whether mocking or defending Martha it was hard to know. Or was it Ginny he meant to mock, in his laid-back way?<\/p>\n

\u201cGreek Kabuki. Right, Mike. That\u2019s it.\u201d This was Marcia. She was winding herself up. \u201cYou know what? I think I like the new old Martha better than the old new Martha. Wasn\u2019t there always something fake about that expressive purity of hers? I mean, give me a break. In her dotage she\u2019s let the old thespian dragon who was always in there come out\u2014all the way out. She\u2019s crazed, not with the role but the artifice of the role. Sure it\u2019s schlock. It\u2019s fabulous schlock. Like Sarah Bernhardt on her umpteenth tour, missing a leg or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Marcia,\u201d Ginny jumped in, but then fell silent. So did the rest of us. Not that anybody agreed. But Marcia was beginning to sound like Marcia on the page, Marcia in those essays that both excited and infuriated her readers. And talk about schlock, surely there was something if not exactly schlocky then definitely sensationalist about Marcia\u2019s way of eviscerating an artist or an event. Marcia was the higher schlock. Hadn\u2019t Jack said that to Evelyn one night? Hadn\u2019t Mike said it to Jack? Wasn\u2019t Ginny suggesting it right now? There was something carnivalesque about Marcia\u2019s intellectual riffs. But Marcia\u2019s highhandedness could also be seductive. She was so damn definitive. Now she was looking around, assessing the damage, weighing her effect. Her champagne was nearly empty.<\/p>\n

\u201cBurt!\u201d She turned to me with a strange look, grabbing my arm, a smidge of champagne dribbling across her dress as her arm flopped down and the plastic glass tipped over. \u201cI better sit down.\u201d She sat, nearly fell backward, onto a banquette, as a woman shoved closer to her husband to make room for Marcia, who was clearly in some kind of distress. And there Marcia was, slumped on the banquette, the plastic glass still gripped in her hand, her eyes rolled back. \u201cPamela!\u201d It was Mike, turning to the young woman who had been at his side all the time, quiet while we talked. \u201cShe\u2019s a doctor,\u201d he explained. Figured. Mike likes competent women; they\u2019re unperturbed when he sends them packing. She ripped open the front of Marcia\u2019s dress, revealing a very expensive-looking lace bra. And began pounding. To no avail. Marcia, who some had predicted at the beginning of the 1960s would be the voice of the decade, author of two nonfiction books, Slummings<\/em> and A Night at the Opera<\/em>, dead at forty-five. And, of course, the irony, of the author of A Night at the Opera<\/em> dying at the Opera House, not lost on the people who wrote the obituaries in The New York Times<\/em> and the San Francisco Chronicle<\/em> (where she\u2019d once had a lousy job, so lousy they didn\u2019t even mention it).<\/p>\n

__________________________________<\/p>\n

From <\/em>We Never Called it Frisco<\/a> by\u00a0Jed Perl. \u00a9 2026, Coffee House Press.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

They say we\u2019re a town full of losers. They say we\u2019re eccentric, eclectic\u2014marginal. Maybe I\u2019m exaggerating. But when somebody on the East Coast starts talking about a rivalry between New York and San Francisco the truth is they\u2019re trying to<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":63,"featured_media":276869,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[25508,3,43074,43076,26764],"tags":[33559,111738],"class_list":["post-275683","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-daily-fiction","category-excerpts","category-fictionandpoetry","category-from-the-novel","category-novels","tag-jed-perl","tag-we-never-called-it-frisco","story-type-daily-fiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Iv","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/9781566897648_FC.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275683","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/63"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=275683"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275683\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276869"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=275683"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=275683"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=275683"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276836,"date":"2026-09-10T04:01:49","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T08:01:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276836"},"modified":"2026-09-09T14:57:11","modified_gmt":"2026-09-09T18:57:11","slug":"robert-moor-on-rethinking-environmentalism-tree-by-tree","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/robert-moor-on-rethinking-environmentalism-tree-by-tree\/","title":{"rendered":"Robert Moor on Rethinking Environmentalism, Tree by Tree"},"content":{"rendered":"

Nonfiction writer Robert Moor joins co-hosts Christian Barter and Jennifer Maritza McCauley to talk about his new book, In Trees<\/i>, and the power of \u201ctree thinking,\u201d a concept developed by the evolutionary biologist Robert J. O\u2019Hara. <\/i>Moor explains how this form of thought emphasizes branching, growth, and pruning, as opposed to hierarchical ordering, and shows how these principles can be identified in the work of writers like Tolstoy and Wordsworth. He explores the role the giant sequoia played in founding modern conservatism and takes listeners on a tour of his own experiences in the trees from Papua New Guinea to Vancouver, Canada, where he participated in a tree sit with activists protesting an oil pipeline. He discusses the ethics of climate activism and how tree thinking might help us re-imagine the environmental movement for a new age. He reads from In Trees.<\/i><\/p>\n