In the March issue of Harper's, Daniel Mason has an excellent story, "The Ecstasy of Alfred Russel Wallace". Wallace was the man who from deep in the jungle sent an essay on his theory of natural selection to his idol, Charles Darwin. The essay is credited with pushing Darwin to present his own findings on evolution, but Wallace's contribution (and eerily similar) findings have largely been forgotten. Mason writes in the first person about a man who was more at home in the wildness then England, and stumbled upon his ideas in the most basic and hard won way - by studying animals in the field. It's not online, but well worth grabbing a copy of the magazine if you can.

Slate has David Treuer responding to the Margaret Seltzer fake memoir with a good question: "Why do writers pretend to be Indians?" A bit:

Hemingway once wrote what he called the shortest story ever written: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." But I can think of one shorter by five words: "Indian." Wrapped up in that one word is a host of associations, images, and ideas, but primary among them is tragedy. It is no accident that all the fake books written by fake Indians (and most of the "real" books written by "real" Indians) are rife with tragedy.

Cory Doctorow's plan to send ARCs of his new book to high school newspapers for review has me wondering why more YA publicists don't do this as well. It seems like it would be at least as successful as blasting a ton of bloggers with the same books and if high schools are still anything like mine (and it hasn't been that long) then the likelihood that very bored teenagers read the paper from cover to cover during class is very high. (As an aside I have requested Cory's book for a Bookslut column this spring but no sign of it yet. In fact I requested four books from Tor but haven't seen any of them. I have, however, received several books from Tor that I did not request. Hmmm.)

For writers, Sarah has an interesting post about being happy for others while coping with your own latest rejection. I meant to comment on this one last week as I have been there so so so many times. Oddly, while I hit the big leagues by getting a respected agent, I then had to sit back while the book she loved was shot down by all the publishers she sent it to. And then I had to start on book #2 based on her advice about getting published. And now I wait to hear a response on that one. Half the time I'm not sure if I'm rejected or accepted. This business is simply and completely frustrating from start to finish. And then something like the Seltzer book gets bought (or that Jenna Bush title) and you just wonder why you care. Must ignore everything but the words - only the words will keep you sane. (Or so I keep trying to remind myself.)

I got bruised a bit in the current post at Ed's round table on Nicholson Baker's Human Smoke. Sometimes it is hard to be a die hard historian. (And no - I still don't like the book.) Perhaps my insistence on balance comes from those years of teaching when my students knew so little about both sides of history. Whatever the reason, I had some things to say and not everyone agreed with me. (Although the conversation does continue a bit friendlier in the coming days.)