At least night's Endurance Sports Award, Cody MacCasland, an eight-year-old double-amputee, was honored as Challenged Athlete of the Year.

During a brief back and forth on stage, Cody happily professed to having beaten two kids in his last swim race who had legs. (Can you imagine being the parent of the losing child, and having to console them? What could you do but enroll them in piano lessons or art classes.)

My brother and husband were with me last night, and afterwards I asked whether they felt just a little lazy after hearing Cody's story. They confessed that they did. I did, too, and I've done two half ironmans.

I've decided to do a third, but it doesn't seem like nearly the undertaking that any Challenged Athlete might accept.

I'm reminded of Hey Nostradamus!, where the protagonist, speaking from the dead, recounts a perfect evening where he stripped down and ran exultant circles through his neighborhood. He declares something like, "I wish that I could've run naked through the streets every day of my life."

I'm not suggesting that anyone, physically challenged or not, break laws of decency. But perhaps a little more metaphorical streaking, and a little less status quo, would do us all good.

JD Salinger: Half-pipe Thrasher

From the outside, you might think JD Salinger didn't do much with his life. 91 years on this planet and 4 books in 15 of those years, the last of which was published 45 years ago. Just a few interviews. Sort of like Forrest Gump running. And then, one day, not. I wonder what he's been doing since 1965.

We'll probably never know, but I like to think he's been learning the art of underwater welding, training a bear to dance, and performing some sweet ollies. Wouldn't that be cool?

At last night's Tri Club meeting (Chris Lieto and Craig Alexander; you totally missed it), I spoke with a friend who's recently switched from real estate to nursing. I used to write fiction, but now I am moving into nonfiction. Change is good.

Throw Your Hands in the Air and Wave Them Like You Just Don't Care

Today was my first run in 17 days, the last one being day I turned 31 (which still seems like a clerical error). It is good to be back on the roads.

I spent part of the run behind a jogger who'd periodically pump his fist while listening to (I can only assume) uptempo music.

I am in the middle of What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. It is Murakami's meditation on running, and also on writing. At one point he talks about a mutual understanding shared by all long-distance runners. I agree. I think people who enjoy running share plenty of character traits (which I won't go into here, Murakami does a much better job in his book).

I have never pumped my fist to music while running. But I completely understand the feeling.

"Goldengrove" by Francine Prose

I love this:

Margaret's death had shaken us, like three dice in a cup, and spilled us out with new faces in unrecognizable combinations. We forgot how we used to live in our house, how we'd passed the time when we lived there. We could have been sea creatures stranded on the beach, puzzling over an empty shell that reminded us of the ocean.

-Goldengrove

Francine Prose

2009 "One Book, One San Diego" Title Chosen

I'd like to thank the good people of San Diego for voting for the same book I did--Outcasts United. I will soon be racing all of you to the book stacks to borrow a copy. But don't worry, I was raised better than to push. Although my brother did teach me how to hold my own (elbows out) several long years ago in a Smashing Pumpkins mosh pit.

The press release is available here.

"Early Bird" by Rodney Rothman

Watch CBS News Videos Online

I first heard about Early Bird from the above Bill Geist piece on "Sunday Morning". I'd been interested in the book at the time, but well, so many books, so little time. But I stumbled upon the book again recently, during one of my library tours. And I just had the book transferred to my local branch.

Here's the premise: a twenty-eight-year-old former "Late Show" writer moves to a Floridian retirement community to see what his life will be like in forty years. He joins the shuffleboard community; hangs out by the pool with the gossipers; befriends a ninety-three-year-old, foul-mouthed comedienne; and even falls in love with a woman...who's younger than him.

"The Road" by Cormac Mccarthy

A writer friend whom I met at Tomales Bay, John, believes that fiction can make humanity better. After reading The Road, I agree.

Who knew that a father giving his son a can of Coca-Cola could be so beatific?

John Irving is Old School. He Likes Plot.

John Irving and Charlie Gibson on Good Morning America.

Next on my reading list is John Irving's Last Night in Twisted River. And after that? The Mayor of Casterbridge.

I like characters. And their thoughts, and their feelings, and their complexes, and their strengths.

I also like scenery. And its vistas, its weather, its milieu.

I also like plot. And I don't have to be embarrassed anymore. Plot is cool. John Irving said so.

"The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian" by Sherman Alexie

I saw Sherman Alexie speak about this book at the 2007 LA Times Festival of Books. His talk was funny, outrageous, and sobering. But it wasn't until I was talking with Emma from the San Diego Library Foundation , and she mentioned Alexie having appeared at this year's San Diego Children's Book Festival, that I remembered this book.

With its combination of pathos, humor, and self-deprecation, it is classic Alexie. It's the story of a young Spokane Indian who wants to get off the reservation, and seems to be largely based on his life. The protagonist is a cartoonist, and mixed in with the text are humors comics that comment on the story. Sorta like Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

The book is marketed as for young adults, but it exists in that cross-over section. The part that hit me, as a thirty-year-old, was when the protagonist finds his mother's name written in his geometry book. Not only does he realize that his tribe teaches with thirty-year-0ld books, but that if he doesn't get off the reservation now, he will be there the rest of his life, and so will his kids.

"The Member of the Wedding" by Carson McCullers

I know Carson McCullers is a weird writer. I listened to The Ballad of the Sad Cafe on audio tape in high school, and was sufficiently apoplectic. So I don't know why it surprises me that I found The Member of the Wedding strange as well. Maybe it was that Sad Cafe was weird in a good way, but Wedding was just weird.

Sometimes I get really annoyed with books, because I want them to be better. I'm like the crazy soccer mom screaming at her kid to "pick it up!" I know stories can do better.

It Ain't Your Mom's Book Club

Books bring people together. All sorts of communities--prisons, colleges, talk shows, cities--have figured this out and have instituted reading programs. In 2002, I read The Laramie Project along with other University of Maryland students, faculty, and staff.

In 2007, San Diego instituted its One Book One San Diego program. I read--and was profoundly affected by--Enrique's Journey.

The 2010 book will soon be chosen. You can vote by going here.

The candidates:

Dreamers of the Day (Mary Doria Russell)

Outcasts United (Warren St. John)

Song Yet Sung (James McBride)

"Sunnyside" by Glen David Gold

Glen was my screenwriting professor at UCSD, and I was so happy when "Carter Beats the Devil" came out a few years ago. But I was slightly underwhelmed by "Sunnyside." I think you have to know more about Hollywood's history to fully understand this book. But I just couldn't bother my brother with incessant phone calls (Who's Mary Pickford? Was Charlie Chaplin spotted in a couple hundred places across the US simultaneously? Why are screenplays so difficult to get produced?). But even if I didn't understand everything, and probably missed out on some of the book's joys, it was still an enjoyable read.

Everybody's Got an Opinion

...and I'm not even talking about healthcare or Jon and Kate plus their eight.

I'm referring to the National Book Award. You can vote for your all-time favorite award winner (as long as your favorite is one of six pre-selected choices).

For my own personal (writing) interests, I like that four of the six candidates are short story collections. The mighty short story.

I am ashamed (am I ashamed? Maybe I'm humbled) to admit that I've read works by five of these six authors, but only portions of three of these award-winning books--Cheever's, O'Connor's, and Welty's.

"In-N-Out Burger" by Stacy Perman

I love working at Miramar College. The students are engaging, the staff is supportive, and there's an In-N-Out down the street.

This book is a look at the history of a family-run company that has historically been extremely tight-lipped about their goings-on. And the history is the stuff of a family saga filled with jealousy, money, drugs, heaps of lawsuits, and some fanatical Christianity for good measure. The Mondavis have nothing on the Snyders.

But this is also a book about a company that has never wavered on "quality, cleanliness, and service." And they pay their employees respectable wages.

At writing conferences, speakers often talk about the primary goal of a story is to keep its reader turning the pages. This book, with its many plot twists and turns, kept me reading and thinking "Just one more chapter and then I'll stop. Just one more chapter. Just one more..."

"Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Strout

This book is awesome. But what I want to talk about isn't the linked short stories within these covers, but the author interview that follows them. In it, not only is Strout interviewed, but her fictional character Kitteridge is, too.

And it's a complete joke. These stories have pathos that crash over you, again and again, like a set of tidal waves. As a reader you really go somewhere with Olive and her town of Crosby, Maine. But then to reach the end and begin the interview, hoping that Strout might explain where these characters came from and how their sum narrative arc was choreographed, and instead find Olive has been cheapened to coy remarks to the interviewer and Strout--well, I felt taken advantage of. Like Ralphie from "A Christmas Story," where Annie's secret message is a crummy commercial for Ovaltine.

In one of these stories, a character rips pages out of a magazine that contain a short story that reminds her too much of her sorry state of affairs. In reading this interview, I wanted to rip it out of the book so it wouldn't contaminate what is truly remarkable writing.

"Here Beneath Low-flying Planes" by Merrill Feitell

At only 123 pages, this short story collection is like a 9-track music album, where every song is listenable. Each story is dynamic, memorable, meaningful. A young girl spending Thanksgiving with the family of her sister's boyfriend. A man who enters a charity bike ride as a send off before marriage. A woman who goes to her ex-boyfriend's wedding while pregnant with his baby. A man who throws his own birthday party in the saddest, sweetest way. There are four more stories. They are just as good. Merrill Feitell now teaches at Maryland, and I wish I'd had the opportunity to take a workshop from her.

"Corpus Christi" by Bret Anthony Johnston

Bret Anthony Johnston gave two craft talks at Tin House--one on characterization and one on plot--that blew the rest of the conference's talks out of the water. His book of short stories quite good. But I write that previous sentence with a twinge of disappointment. Because when Corpus Christi is compared to his talks, it's less than revelatory. At this point, a sardonic blogger would make some point about the value in striving for a more mediocre baseline in one's work. Myself, I am thankful to have heard those talks, and read these stories.

"A Walk in the Woods" by Bill Bryson

(Larry King accompanies Bryson on the Appalachian Trail.

Best free bookmark ever.)

I took this book to Tin House because I wanted to read something of the nonfiction persuasion. I don't want to spoil anything, but themes of perceived and realized expectations, of social interaction, of solitude, of adventure, of being content, of wanting more, of the great unknown, and the great outdoors (there are trees in Portland the likes of which San Diegans can only dream of!) crossed over well between the book and conference.

Plus, now that I've read about Bill Bryson hiking this behemoth of a trail, I don't have to do it myself.

Through You

Aimee Bender gave a talk today at Tin House. I read two of her books in college, after finding out she'd gotten her undergraduate degree from UC San Diego. But that was less than ten years ago, and I don't remember much about either book, except that I'd enjoyed them at the time.

I recently gifted Oliver Sacks' The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat because I had fond memories of it. But all I can recall of it, other than those favorable impressions, are some fuzzy details about the titular case study.

It is disheartening that I don't remember much about these books that had affect me so much at the time.

On last weekend's MarcFit run, a member told me he'd just bought the new Kindle for his wife. Apparently, you can make marginal notes and highlight text. Maybe this would help. If I could write notes and interact with the text, maybe I'd better retain the words (like those studies about doodling improving one's memory of auditory input).

Maybe there's no way to stop the slow seepage of knowledge or sensations or emotions. Perhaps you can't take anything with you. And we should be happy to simply enjoy what comes for the time it's there. Every book I read, every time my father rolls through town, and every moment with my husband.

"Banker to the Poor" by Mohammed Yunus

Finally, a cure for the hopelessness I felt about humanity after reading this book. If you haven't heard of Mohammed Yunus, he is a champion of micro-credit, which extends no-collateral loans to the poorest people on this planet. This autobiography (now eight years old) includes his early life, but mostly focuses on his efforts with Grameen Bank, and his views on poverty eradication. His bank is actually solving the problem of poverty by enabling people to take control of their lives.

The Honduran arm of Grameen Trust, Adelante ("Go ahead!" in spanish), also has an insider's look at the political unrest in Honduras.