Last October we ran a story about Goodloe Byron, a local author (and designer of snazzy book covers) who was giving away copies of his first novel, The Abstract. Not just a few copies, but all of ‘em–10,544 to be exact. (That’s a lot; most first novelists can only dream of selling that many copies, even if he or she is attached to a big publisher.)

At the time, Byron figured that he’d be done off-loading all copies of The Abstract by January 2008. He was about six months off. Byron writes in an e-mail that at last weekend’s Crafty Bastards fair, he finally handed off his last one:

The Zero Dollar Tour is over, long live the zero dollar tour. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, last September a friend of mine and I loaded up a truck with four thousand copies of a book and went around handing them out for free, mostly to vagabonds. We went to Chicago then up to Seattle down to LA, back to Chicago etc. The heap of books has dwindled down regularly since then to basically nothing, and now down to nothing, proper. Last Saturday I was going about my DC rounds when I heard there was an arts and crafts fair out in Silver Spring. After several hours of sitting on the curb and offering helpful information, the final book, # 10,544, was handed to a young lady to whom I shouted “Damn you! Just take it”, a less romantic conclusion than I had anticipated. So now, at last, the jig is up and the books are gone.

But for anybody itching to get hold of a copy, a second printing is planned. Byron has mocked up four new cover ideas for the new edition, and he’s inviting folks to e-mail him with their preference.

(Photo by Darrow Montgomery)

H.D. Woodson Senior High School, a.k.a. the nine-floor “Tower of Power,” is set to be demolished this summer. But when and how exactly?

Yesterday, Woodson’s alumni association (and surely a multitude of other D.C. listservs) received word that the groundbreaking would occur Monday July 7 from 10 a.m. to 11 a.m. Yet, less than two weeks ago, the school was still loaded with furniture, books, equipment, trophies, and with no clear leadership in the building (Principal Gwendolyn Jones was fired by Chancellor Michelle Rhee), many staff seemed confused about deadlines and moving dates.

So, what does this little event really kick-off? Well, not much, says Tony Robinson, spokesperson for the Office of Public Education Facilities Modernization Projects. Groundbreakings are the most ceremonial of ceremonies, and this one is no exception.

Immediately after the event, “We’ll start some excavation out on the football field. Then, after that, they’ll start doing asbestos abatement in the school,” says Robinson, a 1980 Woodson alumnus.

The school demolition won’t occur until at least a few weeks after July 7, and will likely last until September. And don’t expect some wild explosion to rock the calm streets of Deanwood.

“No, No,” says Robinson. “Everyone wants to see [Woodson] implode,” but the building will brought down by a plain jane wrecking ball.

The new Woodson building will cover the old school site, as well as part of the current space of the football field. One thing’s for sure: it will not be a highrise, like its innovative and extraordinarily dysfunctional predecessor. Construction won’t begin until the old building is fully demolished.

Building plans were shown at Ward 7 Councilmember Yvette Alexander’s “State of the Ward” meeting late May, says her Chief of Staff J.R. Meyers, adding that the new Woodson was designed for 1,300 students. (As of last fall, the enrollment was just over 750.)

Woodson first opened in 1972. According to a February Washington City Paper article, “Neighborhood residents fought the tower on the grounds of its imposing height, but it got rave reviews from architectural types. Charles Atherton, secretary of the federal Commission of Fine Arts, said the school would “be a good symbol and an excellent landmark.”

The new school is slated to open in 2010.

“As a Woodson graduate, I can honestly say this building is going to be the crown jewel of the District’s new school inventory,” says Robinson. “It’s going to be a very contemporary building.”

Hmmm, sounds familiar.

Today’s Post has a feature on Bit o’ Lit, a recently launched magazine, stocked in free boxes near Metro stations, that assembles excerpts from recently published books. Founder Shannon MacDonald has clearly hit on a good (if not yet profitable) idea with her condensed Readers Digest Condensed Books concept, though a bit toward the end had me softly sobbing in my coffee:

One of the things MacDonald remains adamant about is that the magazine will not include reviews. She maintains that people have such different tastes that they should be able to judge the books for themselves.

“A good portion of the population . . . does not read book reviews, because there is no common language to talk about writing,” she said. “Someone could say ‘This is the best book in the world!’ and that could mean nothing to me.”

Local critic and litblogger Bethanne Patrick has a few thoughts on the matter.

Ugh. Olsson’s isn’t just leaving its great Penn Quarter spot. The great local book-and-record chain will soon be filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy.

The Post writes:

Olsson’s Books, one of the oldest independent booksellers in Washington, plans to file for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, founder John Olsson said yesterday.

Pressed by creditors who have filed claims against the company’s inventories and by rising overhead costs, Olsson’s is closing at least one store and will evaluate its ability to operate its remaining five properties, an attorney for the company said.

“The book business is getting a little soft. It’s not selling as much as it used to,” Olsson said. “Our music sales went from 50 percent of our business to maybe 15. We lost a lot of revenue, and at the same time rents went up and real estate taxes went up. I don’t know what we would have done differently. It’s a killer.”

Let’s hope Olsson’s sticks it out. But it sounds like they are done. The chain owes a ton of dough and major publishers aren’t pleased. If one reads the listservs regularly, residents clamor for a lot of things: decent restaurants, good schools, etc. But they are always hungry for a book store. Always.

It’s ironic that this local chain has helped make many a neighborhood liveable–Dupont, Bethesda, Alexandria, etc.–is now slowly dying out. The chain had nine stores in 2002. Now they have five.

*photo courtesy of Keith Stanley.

For a guy who doesn’t live in one, Mark Stein sure knows a lot about states. The D.C. resident’s book, How the States Got Their Shapes, delves into the geographic biographies of the 50 messed-up pieces of land that made the cut­—with the District’s wonky diamond thrown in for good measure. The book promises to explain the United States’ most pressing border mysteries: Michigan’s floating peninsula, Texas’ bigness, West Virginia’s creepy finger up Pennsylvania, and Delaware. The history of our 4-million-square-mile jigsaw puzzle is a bit of a departure for the local boy: A playwright and screenwriter, Stein’s previous claim-to-fame was writing the 1992 Steve Martin­/Goldie Hawn vehicle HouseSitter. Thankfully, Stein’s better at tracing border lines than he is scripting wacky squatter comedies. This volume isn’t just smarter than his film work­—it’s funnier, too. Stein discusses and signs copies of his work at 7 p.m. at Politics and Prose, 5015 Connecticut Ave. NW. Free. (202) 364-1919. —Amanda Hess

In August, Simon & Schuster will publish David Carr’s memoir, The Night of the Gun, in which the New York Times reporter investigates his (according to the PR patter) “odyssey through addiction, recovery, cancer, and life as a single parent of twin girls.” Interesting! Alas, the publisher hasn’t thought to send a review copy of the book to the paper that Carr used to edit. I found a cheap galley, though, and while I haven’t yet had time to read it, I can answer a few basic questions after a quick skim.

Is the word “coke” on page 59?

Yup.

Is the word “coke” on page 113?

You bet.

Is the word “coke” on page 169?

Uh-huh. See here: “As hobbies go, shooting coke is the worst.” Worse than RenFaire? Maybe, don’t know—like I said, I’m skimming.

Is the word “coke” on pretty much every page of David Carr’s book?

Sure seems like it.

So when City Paper named Carr as editor in 1995, did the Post story about the hire include the words “recovering cocaine addict” in the first sentence?

Yes.

Did he like City Paper?

Pretty much. “With its history of narrative glories, City Paper was a kind of literary fantasy to the likes of me.”

Did City Paper like him?

Not at first. “At our first meeting, the staff got a load of me and my brutal Midwestern accent and decided I wouldn’t last long. They had run the interim editor out on a rail with such ferocity that he had felt compelled to leave behind a dead fish in the ventilation system.”

This all ends happily, with Carr a successful journalist in New York, right?

Yeah, seems like it.

But the word “coke” is on the final page, isn’t it?

Sure is.

Last week, we reported that D.C.’s Best Dance Night would be moving on up to Club Five this Saturday. Now, it looks like the event will by moving across the street to MCCXXIII, at 1223 Connecticut Ave. NW. Club Five had its license suspended earlier this month after a stabbing occured in the club. Five was set to open again June 18th; according to ABRA, that suspension has now been extended indefinitely.

Miami Horror and Gameboy/Gamegirl are still set to play on the Nouveau Riche bill, but the move to MCCXXIII brings some changes in the event’s time, cover charges, and dress code, says DJ Gavin Holland. The details: The show starts at 10 p.m. Entry begins at $10 and jumps to $20 at midnight. The dress code, while relaxed to include sneakers, does stipulate some no-no’s. Writes Holland:

They have relaxed their normal dress code for us, sneakers are okay. However, no shorts, no sandals, and sadly no totally wacky shit. Basically, dress well by your own standards, but you don’t need to wear fancy shoes or any of that silly ‘club’ attire. You should be lookin’ snazzy for Nouveau Riche anyway, so this should be no different. My heart goes out to Life Preserver Dude from the 9:30 Club, you will not be able to wear your life preserver.

The boy-and-his-dog tale at the heart of David Wroblewski’s debut novel, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, is deeply observed, as symbolically deep as any epic, and most surprising of all, devoid of easy sentiment. After all, the rough outlines of the novel would be perfect for a three-hanky affair: Edgar Sawtelle is a mute adolescent who’s coming of age on a rural north Wisconsin farm where his parents breed “Sawtelle dogs,” exceedingly well-trained service animals, and Edgar has to help keep the family afloat after Dad dies. Wroblewski keeps from drifting into Marley & Me–brand cutesiness partly by way of the plot he’s constructed; the book is a widescreen tragedy, its version of small-town America as suffused with fuckups and failures as good-hearted country folk. More critical, though, is the crisp, unfussy language that Wroblewski employs throughout to temper the high emotions that the Sawtelles—­humans and dogs alike­—go through. It’s a reserved and not especially colorful style, and it seems unique to rural American writers—fans of Kent Haruf’s Plainsong and Thomas McGuane’s recent work already have a sense of its straightforward music. And just like those two writers, Wroblewski gets some surprising effects from it. The book’s most powerful sections aren’t noisy, just full of relevant detail, expertly woven—one section depicting Edgar’s solitary journey away from the farm gets so much emotional mileage by merely describing nearly every step he takes, to the point that it’s almost shocking to realize that the kid didn’t really wander so far at all. Wroblewski discusses and signs copies of his work at 7 p.m. Thursday, June 26, at Politics and Prose, 5015 Connecticut Ave. NW. Free. (202) 364-1919. —Mark Athitakis

Local artist Adrian Parsons has revealed himself as one of the stars of ANC Commissioner Frank Winstead’s now-infamous clandestine ping pong youtube video, shot outside of Comet Ping Pong. Parsons says he recognized himself and opponent Karl Southgate immediately when he saw this video of the sidewalk match-up, posted last summer on DCist:

“At first i wasn’t really thinking it was all that harmful,” Parsons says of the video. “I thought it was sort of playful, that it was Winstead’s opinion and of no legal consequence. But when it started to look like the video might be a problem for Comet, I thought, ‘Well. That sucks.’”

Adds Parsons, “I was concerned that my face was on this advert that might serve to hurt James [Alefantis, Comet owner]. It was not something that Karl or I were interested in being involved in.”

Read the rest of this entry »

Photo by Darrow Montgomery

H Street haunt The Palace of Wonders—D.C.’s only bar to boast a “monkey contemplating human bone skull,” a “cyclops fetal skull,” and a “living unicorn”—celebrates its second birthday this weekend.

Helping ring in the sideshow bar’s terrible twos are D.C.’s Best Sideshow Duo Tyler Fyre and Thrill Kill Jill, burlesque performer Li’l Dutch, and “Skullduggery & Skin Show” performers Albert Cadabra and Gal Friday. During the three-hour show, Jill promises sword swallowing, magic, burlesque, belly dancing, fire eating, snake charming, bag pipers, aerialists, contortionists and a flea circus. Though personally, I’m not convinced there is actually a living unicorn.

Real Palace enthusiasts can celebrate the birthday twice—first on Friday, June 27, and again on Saturday, June 28. Shows are 20 bucks a pop, and begin at 10:00 p.m. at the Palace of Wonders, 1210 H Street NE.

Flier after the jump.

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I recently came across rumors that rising waterfront real estate prices may spell a visit from the bulldozer for the barrel-roofed town homes at River Park, a Charles Goodman cooperative in Southwest D.C. The 518-unit complex was completed in 1962 and consists of two high-rises and 134 town houses clustered in connected blocks of eight to 10 homes, some of which are topped with the striking barrel domes. Fans of mid-century modern architecture cherish Goodman’s industrial designs, with all the prefab parts and gleaming aluminum, although the units themselves get mixed reviews on livability and durability. The rows of arched roofs are a treat to behold in a city full of restrained Federalism.

Anyway, about those rumors. According to Michael Keane, president of River Park’s board of directors, a faction of co-op members has indeed lobbied for selling the land, which the co-op purchased from the District in the late 1980s. Such a buyer would likely tear the place down. But Keane says a far larger group of owners is against such a sale (”A lot of us would like to live here!”) and, regardless, the matter hasn’t been scheduled for a vote. Several of the units are listed for sale on the River Place website, many for less than $200,000.

Today a Cleveland Park resident posted on her neighborhood listserv a simple request:

“We are seeking advice on purchasing a two-person hammock on a wood stand — not a hammock that ties to a tree at both ends — for our backyard. We have reviewed a number of web sites that show attractive two-person hammocks but have no first-hand experience. Please respond off-line with advice on pros and cons of hammocks. I would be particularly interested in trying one out in a neighbor’s yard if possible.”

Do you really need to try out a hammock? Isn’t that just a little obssessive? I immediately thought of mocking such a request as this poster does not appear concerned about Tim Russert’s passing, flooding in Iowa or this really important news. But then I thought: Hammocks Are Awesome.

Not enough people have hammocks in their backyards. People often end up with this kind of crap. And I hear from NPR that with gas prices so high, people are saving money by using their backyards to grow things like vegetables. The backyard doesn’t have to be just another workspace. It can be used for relaxing!