6 Scary Books for Halloween Gift-Giving: A New Tradition Everyone Should Adopt

Last October, writer Neil Gaiman proposed a brilliant new way to celebrate Halloween. Noting on his blog that there ought to be more traditions that involve the giving of books, Gaiman suggested All Hallow’s Read: 

I propose that, on Hallowe'en or during the week of Hallowe'en, we give each other scary books. Give children scary books they'll like and can handle. Give adults scary books they'll enjoy.

And to that, I (and I imagine most bookish types) say Bravo.

Giving scary books to friends and family doesn’t have to mean giving gory slash-’em-up books. (If you and your friends like gory slash-’em-up books, though, have at it.) These are six books I personally give the Book Dirt seal of approval. They’re moody, broody, atmospheric --and best of all: scary.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson


You probably know Jackson for her short story “The Lottery,” a favorite of the public school system and a masterful example of pre-Shyamalan twist endings. What you might not know is that Jackson was also a master of the American Gothic novel. More psychologically spooky than supernatural, We Have Always Lived in the Castle is domestic creepiness at its best and most beautiful, complete with poisoned sugarbowls, books nailed to trees and villagers of the torch and rake-bearing variety. You’ll be riveted as this story unspools.

The Bottoms by Joe R. Lansdale


Joe R. Lansdale is an odd bird. The author of tons and tons of books and stories, he penned the novella that the Bruce Campbell movie Bubba Ho-Tep was based on, as well as the Texas-based, street noir Hap and Leonard mysteries (with titles like Bad Chili). Lansdale turned literary with The Bottoms (Random House called it “a thriller with echoes of William Faulkner and Harper Lee"), a depression-era novel that’s alternately folksy and gruesome. It’s hard to say what’s scarier in The Bottoms: the murders or the Southern-style racism? All tie together in a disturbingly effective way.

 

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The key to reading this classic horror story is to forget everything you know about it. Forget that you saw the Looney Tunes spoof or League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. In other words, forget that you know man and monster are one and the same. The concept is so ingrained in our culture that we use Jekyll & Hyde as an adjective (especially in front of “personality.”) The Victorians who first read Stevenson, though, did so without knowing the two were one. It was a shocker of an ending of Fight Club proportions. Read it with that in mind (or not in mind, really), and you’ll understand what thrilled your ancestors so much.

A Judgement in Stone by Ruth Rendell 


“Eunice Parchman killed the Coverdale family because she could not read or write.” That’s the first line of A Judgement in Stone, and it’s one of the best mystery openers I’ve ever encountered. Not only because it demands that you keep reading, but it lays out everything right from the get-go. The rest of the novel is a whydunnit, and knowing what’s in store for the Coverdales drives rather than hinders the telling. 

The House With a Clock In Its Walls by John Bellairs


Oh, to be ten again and read Bellairs for the first time! There aren’t nearly enough gothic horror novels for pre-teens (what there is gets squeezed off the shelf by sparkly vampires and gossipy girls), and the genre may have peaked in 1973 with Bellairs smart, spooky series. I remember being drawn in by the Edward Gorey line drawings and nifty proper names like Barnavelt and Zebedee. If you know a kid who really loves reading, make this a gift, or if you don’t mind reading young adult fiction yourself, prepare to be chillingly charmed.

Ghost Stories of M.R. James


You can’t have Halloween without some ghosts, and if anyone perfected the ghost story, it was M.R. James. Also known for his work as an antiquary (with Medieval documents, no less), James moved the ghost story out of the dusty Victorian era and into the modern world. James’ ghosts aren’t so much supernatural as they are a part of everyday existence, often summoned through an ancient tome or in a library, which may explain his appeal to bookworm types. Give ‘Oh, Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad’ a try, and you’ll never see an unmade bed in the same way again.

Do you plan on giving books for Halloween? What's the scariest book you've ever read? Post your spookiest selections in the comments section.

From Nigeria to Nantucket: A Limerick Project of Epic Proportions

After my recent post about the legal kerfuffle between Chinua Achebe and rapper 50 Cent, a friend of mine reminded me that I once wrote a limerick about Achebe. I had to look it up to remember the words:

Achebe, Chinua

If reading has started to weary ya

And you'd like to read lit from Nigeria,
You'd do well to start
With Things Fall Apart.
Achebe should fit your criteria.

Chinua Achebe (ah-CHAY-bay, b. 1930) also wrote the novels No Longer at Ease and Arrow of God.

I’d love to be able to claim that I just sit around dashing off limericks about African novelists and stay up nights finding reasons to rhyme Nigeria and criteria (the second half is partly true), but I actually had a reason. The reason, though, might be even more unusual.

I created it as an entry into a dictionary made up completely of limericks. It’s not my project, but the brainchild of one Chris J. Strolin, the madman and genius behind the OEDILF, or the Omniscent English Dictionary in Limerick Form. (Originally the project was called the Oxford English Dictionary in Limerick Form, but the actual OED folks weren’t keen on it.)

Strolin’s goal is to ultimately define every word in the English language (and that includes the notable proper names often found in dictionaries, like Achebe above) with its own limerick. The project began in 2004, and is now up to the middle of the letter ‘E’ with around 75,000 limericks submitted.

The estimated completion date is 2037, though it’s acknowledged that with the changing language, the result will be merely a first edition of a work that will remain in progress.

The OEDILF only opens up small letter ranges of the dictionary at a time, mainly in order to keep writers from working ahead and claiming all the “good” words.

Anyone can contribute limericks to the OEDILF. Just browse through the list of open words (words not yet defined) and craft a limerick that in some way defines the word.

It’s that simple --sort of. Limericks don’t actually appear as part of the dictionary (though they are in the database and can be viewed) until they go through a workshopping process that is by turns exhilarating and maddening. The folks at the OEDILF know their stuff, and they’ll catch a forced meter, a wonky definition or an incorrect fact from miles away.

Even the best writers might have to revise a limerick a few times before it passes muster. It’s actually a fantastic way to hone writing and editing skills.

After you’ve had a certain number of limericks approved, you too can join in on the workshopping of others’ limericks.

The limericks in the OEDILF range from funny to downright sublime, and I highly recommend browsing even if you don’t want to contribute.

Some of my favorite entries from others:


ecru by Chris Doyle

To the Senate comes Brutus one day
In a toga that's yellowish-gray.
It's so out there that Caesar,
A notable teaser,
Can't help but say, "Ecru, Brute?"


disclaimer by Jeff Foster

A written disclaimer makes clear,
"We can't be responsible here."*
*The above definition,
By author's admission,
Was reached after 12 pints of beer.

 catarrhally by Janet McConnaughey
 
She gazed at me hotly, boudoirally,
Bosom heaving and eyes glowing starrily.
In spite of my virus
She made me desirous.
"Led's ged barried," I offered, catarrhally.


I spend time on the OEDILF in bursts, leaving off to pursue other projects, then becoming re-addicted. My first approved limerick was this one, for the word cheesesteak:


 cheesesteak
 
Said a passionate eater from Philly
Who believed haute cuisine was just silly,
"If your cheesesteak is twee
And it's made with French brie,
Though it's called one, it isn't one, really."


My favorite limericks to write were humorous ones that still gave enough context to define the word. I’m a sucker for a lame joke, and I went to town:


chaw
 
A yokel was heard to say "Aw!
I got somethin' stuck in my jaw!
But—wait now—by cracky!
It's just my tobacky.
I fergot I was chewin' my chaw!"



Or:


champagne flute

When at parties, I've seen the elite
Use the champagne-from-slipper conceit.
But when drinking my Brut
From a stemmed, tapered flute,
Then I'm certain it won't taste of feet.


Or even:

 chicken Kiev
 
For chicken Kiev that's divine,
Take a breast and then pound it 'til fine.
Roll with butter, then bake,
And that's how you make —
No, a chicken breast, moron, not mine!


Once I got the hang of the form, I ventured into more academic limericks, like the Achebe piece. One of my happiest achivements in life may have been the day a limerick I wrote to include the longest word in the works of Shakespeare was finally approved by the workshop editors. It took months of revisions (getting the meter right involved the tearing out of hair), but I finally wrested this feat of limerick-crafting from my keyboard, with help from one of the limerick luminaries.


Costard (with Chris Doyle)

As a clown, Costard often amuses,
But in Love's Labour's Lost when he uses
"Honorificabilitud-
initatibus," will a dude,
Upon hearing it, think the fool boozes?

(on-uh-RIF-uh-kuh-BIL-uh-tood-in-uh-TAT-uh-bus)

If you'd like to join the madness, register for the OEDILF. It's not for everyone, but you might be just the kind of brilliant oddball they need.

The OEDILF is browsable, so you can search the database for words beginning with A-El. If you find a fun word, post it here (not the whole limerick, unless you also cite the author). Do you dare join? If so, I'll see you around!

Jeffery Eugenides Looms Over Times Square; Sells Books to Women

Wall Street Journal

You don’t often see authors’ faces on billboards, so even Jeffrey Eugenides was surprised when Farrar, Straus and Giroux decided to hype his new book The Marriage Plot with a Times Square ad. It’s a refreshing sight, but it’s also a throwback to a time when we treated writers a little more like we ought to --like rock stars.

It's not like 1971 anymore, when Norman Mailer and Gore Vidal got into a literal fistfight on the Dick Cavett show.  How long has it been since two writers faced off on a talk show? When Jonathan Franzen appeared on the cover of Time last year, he was the first writer in ten years to do so. So, more of this, I say. Our writers ought to be our idols.

The Eugenides billboard brings up another point, though. Take a good look at how the billboard is designed, and at how the book appears to be marketing itself. From the wedding ring on the cover to the frilly font and the posing of Eugenides himself as a sex god, The Marriage Plot (note the title, too --sounds madcap) is clearly aimed at women.

Wedding ring covers: pretty much an indicator of marketing to women.

Just to make it extra-clear that the billboard is more yin than yang, I did a Google search to see what sorts of things are described as “swoon-worthy.” 

Swoon-worthy things, according to Google:

• Zac Efron shirtless
• the cast of Twilight
• wine and sunsets
• lace-trimmed outfits
• cakes
• wedding dresses
• lavender sweatpants
• a pistachio-colored handbag
• boyfriends doing the cooking

Is it me, or do those seem a tad on the girls’ team?

I bring all this up because a few female authors of late have taken umbrage at the packaging of their books, complaining that the marketing strategy is too female, and that the publishers are selling the authors short. Most recently Polly Courtney dropped her publisher because of cover art she claimed made her novels seem like chick-lit.

The cover that was the last straw for Polly Courtney.

If anything makes Polly Courtney’s novels seem like chick-lit, it might actually be the novels themselves. While they may not have the fashion designer namedropping, they do have amnesiac women torn between two men or feisty women working in a man’s world. There is absolutely nothing wrong with these storylines (this isn’t a criticism of Coutney’s work or genre), but they do seem aimed at women. Chick-lit review sites concur that her book is par for the course with what they read and review.

Courtney isn’t a literary writer or a particularly ground-breaking one. Eugenides actually is (That’s his Pulitzer talking, not me.) It’s a distinction worth noting because it raises the question: Why isn’t Eugenides upset that his books are being marketed toward women? He certainly could argue that the publisher is narrowing his potential fan base.

The answer, though I can’t speak for Eugenides himself, is probably due to the fact that women make up a whopping 80% of the fiction market. With that in mind, why wouldn’t someone like Courtney --whose books are not going to close any gender gap in fiction reading by plot alone-- want to market to the people who are actually doing the buying and reading of books like hers?

Nicholas Sparks is another example of a man who seems pretty pleased to have his books marketed to women (his covers tend to have moody sunsets and couples-in-a-clinch). His estimated net worth is a cool $30 million. (His latest movie deal stars Zac Efron. Whether or not he’s shirtless will no doubt determine the swoon-worthiness.)

Nicholas Sparks: Marketing to the 80%.

Best of luck to Polly Courtney, but if she wants to succeed on a level like Sparks or Eugenides, she might do well to understand who her audience is and embrace them instead of looking down on them. She might also want to understand that book packaging has less to do with the gender of the author and everything to do with sales.

Do you think publishers are wrong to determine a book’s audience, or should the author have the final say? And which author would you like to see looming over you from a billboard? Better yet --if you were on the billboard yourself, which adjective would you want emblazoned across it?

10 Beatnik Spoofs for Talk Like a Beat Day

Unless you’re from Squaresville, you know today is Talk Like a Beat Day. Invented by the UK’s Guardian, the celebration of Beat culture requires folks to spread awareness about the literary movement by speaking in Beat-ese.

The previous article gave some background about the Beats and their writing, but it also contained a clip from The Beverly Hillbillies in which Jethro becomes a Beatnik. (I semi-jokingly referred to it as the best short-version explanation of Beat philosophy ever.)

A commenter noted the fact that for most of us who weren’t around in the ‘50s and early ‘60s, our first exposure to Beat culture came from TV and movie characters who by the late ‘60s were spoofing the movement.

Beatniks may have begun in the literary world, but the squawk box made them stock characters, distilling them down to black-clad spewers of bad poetry and slang buzzwords.

The best way to celebrate Talk Like a Beat Day --besides talking like a Beat-- is to read some Ginsberg. Otherwise, for a crash course on the lingo, and a look at how television and film appropriate literary culture, these are some of the best, funniest and most bizarre examples.

1) The Munsters Go Beat

Herman Munster already wears the dark uniform of the beatniks, so perhaps it’s no surprise that he got caught up in the movement. What is a surprise is how well he can spout Beat poetry off the cuff. “Ibbity bibbity canal boat” may be a spoof, but it’s as good as Gregory Corso’s “Hark the hot dog soda olive grape.” 

2) David Lynch Cues the Hipster

On the Air was a short-lived post-Twin Peaks sitcom directed by David Lynch with weird and hilarious results. Most of the public was baffled, but it really was the work of a lunatic genius. Start at :55 with “Cue the hipster” for beat-style interpretive dance as only Lynch can provide.

3) Pee Wee’s Cool Cat, Dirty Dog and Chicky Baby

Kids may not have picked up the reference to Beat culture when they tuned in to Pee Wee’s Playhouse on Saturday mornings, but they probably enjoyed the rhymes. Older viewers probably appreciated the Puppetland Band more for the spoof --and for Dirty Dog’s ridiculously doped-out, bloodshot eyes.

4) Beatnik Prototype: Maynard G. Krebs

Before he was Gilligan, Bob Denver was the prototypical beatnik on The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis. Most people who watched from 1959-1963 remember Maynard jumping in fear whenever he heard the word “work.” (The words “marriage” and “police” had similar effects.)

5) Shaggy as Animated Beatnik

Cartoon legend has it that Scooby-Doo’s Shaggy was directly inspired by Maynard G. Krebs, and some say Fred was meant to be a Dobie counterpart as well. Warner Brothers distilled the idea of a beatnik even further by stripping him of his artistic and cultural awareness and leaving only the slacker.

6) Kerouac

Oops. That’s not a spoof. Or is it?


7) John Waters’ Beats: Zadora and Ocasek

Embedding is disabled, but you can watch a video clip here.

You gotta love the cameos by rocker Ric Ocasek and (actress?) Pia Zadora in the original Hairspray. The spoof is not only spot-on, but the reactions of the more mainstream kids aren’t just funny: they reveal the beatnik as an outsider and maligned oddball.

8) Flander’s Parents 

The SImpsons' Ned Flanders may be the ultimate upright citizen, but his parents were --Gasp!-- bongo-beating hipsters.

9) The Hudsucker Beatnik

Steve Buscemi played the role of a beatnik bartender in The Coen Brothers’ Hudsucker Proxy, and if you only watch one clip to get an idea of how to sound like a Beat, make it this one. Buscemi sells it.

10) Dennis Hopper Goes to Hooterville

Tons of popular shows of the ‘60s and beyond had a beatnik episode (The Beverly Hillbillies and The Munsters, as already mentioned, but also shows like Peter Gunn, and much later, Laverne and Shirley featured Art Garfunkel as a Beat performance artist.)  Petticoat Junction had the distinction of casting a fresh-faced Dennis Hopper, five years before Easy Rider. (The episode also featured Adam West.)

Spread the word about Talk Like a Beat Day, and let me know in the comments if you participate or if you know of anyone who does.

Literature's Greatest Cocktails: 6 Inventive Libations

Writers have a long and complicated history with alcohol (see John Cheever or F. Scott Fitzgerald for further info), which may be why, when faced with the task of writing about alcoholic beverages, they pull out all the creative stops.

                                 Photo: Cocktails 365


Inventing a cocktail allows an author to be as hyperbolic as he or she would like to be when describing the taste and the effects. Read on for the best of the bunch. It's 5 o'clock somewhere.


Moloko Plus from A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Alex and his droogie friends in A Clockwork Orange spend their slack time in the Korova milk bar drinking Moloko, or "milk-plus" --the "plus" being any one of a selection of near-futuristic designer drugs. Moloko may not contain actual alcohol, but the added vellocet, synthemesc or drencrom make Alex feel "knifey." Anything that leads to stomping hobos, putting the smackdown to random academics and leaving a newsstand covered in blood is apt to be pretty strong (and a long way from making risque jokes at the office party).

The Glasgow Kiss from The Cruise Connection by Peter Kerr

You wouldn't want to eat the food on mystery writer Peter Kerr's fictitious cruise ship The Ostentania (a severed finger is found in the quiche lorraine), but the drinks are plenty strong. So strong, in fact, that Kerr reports that a reader who didn't realize it was a joke imbibed a real-life Glasgow Kiss, landing him in the hospital. The ingredients for the drink (named for the Scottish slang for a headbutt): Scotch whisky, Drambuie, Southern Comfort, brandy, gin, vodka, tequila, Pernod, sweet sherry, port, cherry brandy, Archer's peach liqueur, Carlsberg Special, Coke, Buckfast Tonic Wine and Irn-Bru.

The cocktail is pre-mixed in a stainless steel bucket, then dispensed into glasses via hypodermic syringe just before serving. (Does "Do not try this at home" even need to be said?) [Note: If, like many outside the UK, you're unfamiliar with Irn-Bru, get a load of their TV ads. Some of the best/funniest in the biz.]

The Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Drinking what is reported to be the most potent drink in the Universe, courtesy of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, "is like having your brain smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick." Several adventurous mixologists have supposedly concocted real-life versions, but Adams says no way. "Unfortunately there are a number of environmental and weapons treaties and laws of physics which prevent one being mixed on Earth," he said in an interview. (Not to mention the fact that peach schnapps and blue curacao are no substitute for Arcturan mega-gin and Fallian marsh gas bubbles.)

The Electrick Floorbanger from Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett

'Got no head for his drink,’ said Eyebrow. ‘Typical of the young bucks. Wants to play the big troll, comes in here, orders an Electrick Floorbanger, doesn’t know how to handle it.'

Suffice it to say that a drink that can knock out a troll is not one for the kiddies. Pratchett doesn't tell us precisely what goes into the makeup of an Electrick Floorbanger, but the trolls in his Disc World series tend to drink liquefied metals. Troll beer is ammonium sulfide dissolved in alcohol, so it stands to reason that the cocktail is, at the very least, like drinking a battery. Maybe with orange juice.

The Vesper Martini from Casino Royale by Ian Fleming

James Bond is pretty much synonymous with martinis, and the movies have ensured that we know exactly how he likes them. The first drink Bond orders in print, though, is an Americano. In Casino Royale, he deviates again from the martini recipe we know so well, ordering a concoction he says is his own invention: Gordon's, vodka and Kina Lillet (though his instructions are considerable more exacting.) "I'm going to patent it when I can think of a good name," he says, later naming it for love interest Vesper Lynd.

As this drink is actually re-constructable, try one, as Bond insisted, "in a deep champagne goblet," with a "large thin slice of lemon peel." You'll first have to shake the daylights out of it, but that's a paraphrase.

The May Queen from Uncle Fred in the Springtime by P.G. Wodehouse

If there were a literary prize for excellence in fiction featuring cocktails, Wodehouse would win the Lifetime Achievement trophy. Besides creating the iconic ne'er-do-well tippler Bertie Wooster (who once announced he would name his first child "Green Swizzle Wooster" in admiration of a cocktail he was particularly enjoying), Wodehouse also gave us a list of the 6 types of hangovers: The Broken Compass, the Sewing Machine, the Comet, the Atomic, the Cement Mixer and the Gremlin Boogie.

His most genius contribution to the fictional cocktail world, though, comes in the novel Uncle Fred in the Springtime, in the form of a concoction which has to be abbreviated as "The May Queen." The full name of the cocktail, as described by Lord Ickenham, is "To-morrow'll be of all the year the maddest, merriest day, for I'm to be Queen of the May, mother, I'm to be Queen of the May."

It consists, Ickenham says, of "any good dry champagne, to which is added liqueur brandy, armagnac, kümmel, yellow liqueur, and old stout, to taste." He adds that it's pretty much guaranteed to alleviate the deepest despondency.

Got a literary drinking anecdote? Leave it in the comments section. Unless it's the one about a drunken Tennessee Williams swallowing the lid to an aspirin bottle and subsequently expiring. Heard it.

Thomas Jefferson’s Book Stand Was an Early Version of Computer Tabs

In the middle of a writing project --especially one that involves research-- I’ll sometimes find that I have what seems like a billion tabs opened on my laptop. The ability to move quickly back and forth between different reference items is crucial to the process.

Thomas Jefferson must have used my methods. Among his inventions (which include a secret decoder ring of sorts, a travel version of a printing press and a macaroni-making machine) is a book stand, designed to hold five opened books simultaneously.

The stand also rotates, and when not in use it all slides together into a simple wooden box. It’s hard not to imagine Jefferson working on a little something --the Declaration of Independence, say-- while flipping between John Locke and Thomas Paine, maybe giggling at some Rabelais (the thinking man’s Mad magazine) when he needed a breather.

Jefferson never received a patent for any of his inventions (Lincoln is the only president with that credential), but it’s clear that the book stand is the type of thing that can only be designed by someone who cares about their reading and writing and would do anything to streamline them.

Monticello offers a reproduction of the Jefferson book stand (pictured above), or you can have one custom made from this seller on Etsy for about half the price.

If you’re looking for the macaroni machine, though, you’re on your own.

How do you organize your reference materials? Multiple tabs? Index cards? Whirling Jeffersonian book stand? Weigh in via the comments section.

The 10 Best Books Written by Muppets

Jim Henson’s birthday was yesterday, which turned anyone with a soul’s thoughts all Muppety. While most Muppet achievements were confined to television sets and movie screens, the cast of characters also made an impact on the book world.

A gaggle of Muppet characters have ostensibly put paw, flipper or hoof to keyboard with publishing success. (Did the Muppets really write these books themselves? Well, if I’m supposed to believe that Pamela Anderson wrote a novel and Bristol Palin had no help with her memoir, then I say: Yes, absolutely.)

This list includes books by both Muppet Show Muppets and Sesame Street characters, and it was a tad tough to narrow down. The Amazing Mumford’s foray into science with his book on bones, Bert’s Hall of Great Inventions and Elmo’s unabashedly-titled Balls! weren’t easily eliminated, mind you.




The 10 Best Books Written by Muppets





#10 One Frog Can Make a Difference: Kermit’s Guide to Life in the ‘90s by Kermit the Frog

Though the title is dated, don’t discount the wisdom of a frog who received an honorary doctorate of Amphibious Letters from Southampton College in 1996. He even dispenses advice for writers: "It's all kinds of simple: Just don't take yourself too seriously and don't listen to experts (including pigs), and you've pretty much got it." 



#9 The Muppet Picnic Cookbook by Jim Henson’s Muppets

This rare and elusive cookbook was only briefly published by Hallmark, so if you can find a copy, guard it like your Mamaw’s stew-stained recipe cards. Featuring recipes from Muppet Show cast members (Animal’s Zesty Baked Beans, Kermit’s Swamp Salad), it also contains what might well be the only printed copy of a Swedish Chef recipe. His Barbecued Filet of Sole calls for two sneakers, but allows for the substitution of broiler chickens.





#8 Miss Piggy’s Treasury of Art Masterpieces from the Kermitage Collection by Miss Piggy (Edited by Henry Beard)

Miss Piggy has two entries on this list for good reason: she has more books than any other character. The Suzanne Somers of Muppet celebrity publishing, Miss Piggy goes well beyond Somers’ moody poetry and menopause musings. A case in point is this brilliantly curated art collection, containing Botticelli’s The Birth of You Know Who (pictured), Whistler’s Weirdo and Rembrandt’s Arisfroggle contemplating the bust of a Twerp.



#7 Miss Piggy’s Guide to Life, Miss Piggy's Rules or The Diva Code by Miss Piggy

Miss Piggy's Guide to Life is out-of-print, but her other self-help books The Diva Code and The Rules spoof Miss Piggy’s Rules contain similar advice in a glamorously self-indulgent style previously matched only by Miss Eartha Kitt. If you need to know when a karate chop is better than a kiss or which furs to pack, this one’s for you.



#6 Fozzie Bear’s Big Book of Side Splitting Jokes by Fozzie Bear

File this one next to Henny Youngman’s Giant Book of Jokes. The vaudevillian is the master behind lines like “I don’t approve of belly dancers. Why can’t they dance on the floor like everyone else?” Can’t find a copy? Follow Fozzie on Facebook.





#5 Oscar the Grouch’s Alphabet of Trash by Oscar the Grouch

The number of ABC books out there could probably fill a billion empty Borders stores, but from Anne Geddes’ babies-in-bumblebee-outfits to Richard Scarry’s bunnies-acting-like-people, alphabet books have always been a bit precious. Not so with Oscar’s ABC, where D is for dust and E is for eggshells. Full of crummy stuff for those who love crummy stuff.




#4 It’s Hard Out Here for a Shrimp by Pepe the King Prawn

In the vein (Get it? Vein?) of fellow cast members guides to life, the Malaga, Spain-born prawn dishes advice on “the womens.” Tip: the whole thing is better if you read it in Pepe’s voice. (Example: “Never ask out the woman who just finished talking to your ex-girlfriend, okay?”)



#3 Before You Leap: A Frog’s Eye View of Life’s Greatest Lessons by Kermit the Frog

When you tire of Lao Tzu or Emerson, it would serve you well to seek the wisdom of one of entertainment’s greatest thinkers. Seriously. The first of his family to leave the swamp, Kermit overcame his humble beginnings to become a hard-working reporter (and the best-looking one before we had Anderson Cooper) and ultimately a star. 



#2 How to Be a Grouch by Oscar the Grouch

Oscar’s alphabet was just a warm-up. All the good stuff is in here, with Oscar dispensing secrets for becoming a grouch yourself. One of my favorite tips is the advice to sleep with rocks in your bed, with your head hanging over onto the floor, so you’ll wake up good and grouchy. Oscar also clues us in on what grouches eat: pickle splits, chunky fish ice cream or hot beef stew with chocolate gravy in a melon, for example.

#1 The Monster at the End of This Book by Grover

The book may be credited to Jon Stone, but the entire thing is in first person, so this is clearly an as-told-to credit. If you were lucky enough to grow up with this book, congratulate yourself, because that means you were probably also lucky enough to have a parent who read it to you in Grover’s voice. Grover’s pleas for you to stop turning the pages are among the most melodramatic in all literature, and most people’s first experience with the breaking of the fourth wall --or whatever the literary equivalent is. (Lesser known is Lovable, Furry Old Grover’s Resting Places --also an interactive piece worth a look for young ‘uns.)

Easton Press needs to get on this one. I’d shell out for a leatherbound in a heartbeat.

There are a few titles I'd like to see from the Muppets: a full Swedish Chef cookbook, for example, a tell-all bio from Janice of the Electric Mayhem and a manifesto from Sam the Eagle. What would you like to see?