Biz Stone -- Who Let the Blogs Out?

Every new communications technology seems revolutionary at first, but Biz Stone probably overstates when she calls Web logs, or "blogs," the "digital Gutenburg." Perhaps a better comparison is to the popularity of video cameras, without which Rodney King wouldn't be a symbol of police brutality. Similarly, it is blogging that revealed the sexual antics of a young Senate aide, in case anyone still thought of Capitol Hill as a temple of virtue. Blogs, like stone tablets, are as useful or fatuous as the words put on them. Stone's book is a useful way to become more blogworthy. Readers get a history of the blogosphere, fundamental technical instructions and an introduction to page design. Stone's book lays out blogging etiquette -- for example, "Stay on passion," "Don't be an ass" and "Don't blog drunk." Blogs enable lay people to write for public consumption without having to develop advanced computer skills. Stone's enthusiasm for the new genre is understandable to anyone who has ever had a story published: "I ... composed my first post and clicked 'Publish.' My life changed. There it was, my first public blog. My words published on the Web. I was a writer and a Web builder." Her book goes a long way toward making blogs more literate and informative. (Gregory Flannery) Grade: B

Erin McGraw -- The Good Life: Stories (Mariner Books)

Erin McGraw -- The Good Life: Stories

Erin McGraw's no stranger to Porkopolis. She once taught writing at UC; now she's at Ohio State. She has a graceful style, and her new collection of short stories, takes us all over America -- even Cincinnati -- to meet singles, marrieds, families and support groups. They have one thing in common: They struggle with daily life. In "The Tennessee Waltz," we meet three couples: Stephanie and Jeff, Charlotte and Martin and Alice and Dik. Stephanie is in love with Martin. Jeff once had an affair with Charlotte. None of them, including his wife, Alice, seem to like Dik, who once apologized to a pine tree "for the travesty of Christmas." The story is full of cutting remarks, and McGraw shows that these happily married couples aren't happy at all. My favorite is "A Whole New Man," about an aging, hippie writer/teacher/activist whose kids talk him and his wife into going on The Jack Carey Show, a program giving married couples complete makeovers. The story is comic, but it's full of truth -- cutting your ponytail, getting a facial and wearing a fancy suit don't change who you are. For my taste, too many stories involve priests and cute, little animals. But with any collection, you take the good with the bad. For the most part, McGraw delivers. (Larry Gross) Grade: B

Martin Page (translated by Adriana Hunter) -- How I Became Stupid (Penguin Books)

Martin Page (translated by Adriana Hunter) -- How I Became Stupid

The first problem with a title like this for a book is the risky assumption that the speaker was smart to begin with. (The second is how often you're subjected to the same two dumb jokes when people see you reading it in public.) In the case of Page's translated novel, to an American reader, the hero isn't so much smart as he is socially inept and disinterested in the mainstream, at least before he embarks on a journey to lose his intelligence and thereby gain some measure of happiness. Cultural translation No. 1: In America, the alienation of the intelligentsia results from the fact that nobody else can understand you. In France, it's more the existential angst of comprehending the true nature of reality. Taking note of this, you then sit down for an ornately, unselfconsciously described cup of tea. It's actually kind of charming, if you can get past the clunky translation -- not to mention the routine anti-American slant: Stupidity and the resulting happiness apparently mean you indulge in things like Nike sneakers, jeans, antidepressants, McDonald's and Monopoly. Trés original. Francophiles will probably enjoy the condescension. The rest of us can do better by picking up a copy of Voltaire's Candide, a book that obviously inspired Page's style but has far more wit and substance. (Elizabeth Cobbe) Grade: C+

Bee Lavendar and Maia Rossini, editors -- Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts (Soft Skull Press)

Bee Lavendar and Maia Rossini, editors -- Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts

Am I a writer who mothers or a mother who writes? The pursuit of creative arts has never lent itself to dichotomy, and this book doesn't ask creative mothers to choose. Nor is it a how-to guide; readers looking for a self-help guide to achieve balance should search elsewhere. What Mamaphonic does very well is give writer-artist-photographer-poet-illustrator-publisher-and-other mamas a collection of essays, poems and photos to reinforce that they are not alone in seeking a way to cope simultaneously with artistic and motherhood demands. The language is beautiful -- these are writers, after all -- and the essays are arresting. Each entry provides a window into another creative mother's life, in a spirit of "been there, done that" without any sense of superiority. One mama straps her son into a tour bus and continues with her band; another introduces her 3-year-old to the thrills of copiers and stacks at the research library. Creative mamas can take heart in finding that others who have struggled to write or draw or paint amid the endless parade of diapers, feedings, 15-minute naps and housework. The best part? Each short entry can be read in the snatched seconds between the laundry list of tasks that occupy today's creative mama. (Allyson Jacob) Grade: A

Bill Hicks -- Love All the People: Letters, Lyrics, Routines (Soft Skull Press)

Bill Hicks -- Love All the People: Letters, Lyrics, Routines

It takes a strong constitution to swallow the comedy of Bill Hicks. Chances are good he'll hit some wound with his salty brand of self-described "comedy of hate." He reserves a special antipathy for nonsmokers, pro-lifers, pornography crusaders, fundamentalist Christians, hypocritical drug laws, children and their parents, and American foreign policy. If somehow his content fails to offend, his antagonistic, four-lettered delivery might step up for the job. But what still makes Hicks a comedic cult hero 10 years after his death at 32 from pancreatic cancer is that he mixed his raw, often-scatological riffs with a spiritual and genuinely loving take on his world. "Listen to my message, not my words," Hicks once told his scandalized mother, according to a saccharine foreword by John Lahr. What follows in this exhaustive collection is mostly top-notch, snort-inducing, diaphragm-punishing truth-telling. In fact, Hicks was such a fearless, free-thinking comic that even The Late Show with Dave Letterman censored an appearance. The collection includes transcripts of live performances and interviews, sincere song lyrics, letters to Letterman and Leno and (unsurprisingly unsuccessful) TV treatments. Hicks' repetition of bits through the book's first series of shows might turn off unknowing or impatient readers, but true connoisseurs will get off on watching him reframe and retell stories. This exercise works especially well if you have any of his live recordings. (Stephanie Dunlap) Grade: A-