College dorm room shopping has reached a new fevered pitch. I spent most of last weekend trying to have my son comprehend that while he will be living in an on-campus apartment, which is pretty cool for a freshman, this is neither a five-star hotel (which I confess that my sons are quite fond of) nor is it furnished like an extended stay inn. It's a dorm. And yes, that does have four letters. In fact, the furniture fancies a minimum security prison (the bedroom) or doctor's waiting room (the living room). I keep telling Greg to look around the house at the things he uses every day like paper towels, toilet paper and kitchen utensils and realize that none of those come with the apartment. I would have used cleaning supplies as part of this exercise, but I am not sure Greg would recognize Clorox Cleanup or Scrub Free. Those were part of the Advanced Housekeeping class he skipped in lieu of taking Lighthouse Exploration and the History of Ocean Liners.
 
Our adventures to Target and Bed Bath & Beyond were reality show material last weekend. I am not sure that punching and scrunching the pillows to find the best one was as amusing as looking for the perfect unbreakable bathroom cup or excitement over some 30-piece set of kitchen gadgets that included a whisk. Somewhere in the middle of this, Greg informed me that he thought we should head to Williams-Sonoma for some Henkel knives or All-Clad pots. I did not leap at this suggestion. When he mentioned this to my husband, who still wondered WHY he needed to cook anything if a meal plan was available, Tom informed him that this was not a bridal shower; it was furnishing the dorm room. I am overthinking this (my usual mode) since I know that the alternative is that Greg will show up in my office, a few short blocks from Fordham, with lists of things he “needs.” 

When the Olympic flame is extinguished, many of us will go back to sleeping a lot more. I just read that Fireside, a division of publisher Simon & Schuster, will be publishing a book by Phelps called BUILT TO SUCCEED in December. I look forward to reading it. Phelps did something bigger than swimming these past few weeks. At a time when things are pretty uncertain here and abroad, we were reminded that commitment and focus still do matter. To me, it was not like the other seminal moments of the Olympics --- USA Hockey, Mark Spitz, Greg Louganis. Instead, swimming became a metaphor for something bigger in life.

Last Friday night I had a great time at the Clinton Book Shop at the event that they did for Garth Stein and THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN. There were lots of dogs at this event. A few even barked when Garth was speaking. I think they may have been fans of Enzo's or they too knew that when they came back as humans they wanted to be part of Garth's world. Maybe they were barking for a sequel. This segues nicely to our Beach Bag of Books contest book this week, which is THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN. Our bag includes a fun tube for floating, balls that are great for dog or human beach play and dogbone-shaped cookies that are for human consumption.

For those of you in book discussion groups, please be sure to visit the ReadingGroupGuides.com blog on Monday, where Garth Stein will share his thoughts on book clubs. Among our other contributing bloggers this month are Amy Bloom, author of AWAY, who shares some of her favorite recipes for book club discussions, and Lisa See, author of PEONY IN LOVE, who talks about how book clubs have changed over the years.

We received some great feedback from our advance readers of THE GARGOYLE by Andrew Davidson, which you can read here, and DUMBFOUNDED by Matt Rothschild, which you can read here.

This week I saw a terrific trailer that was made for Brad Meltzer’s THE BOOK OF LIES. You can view it here. The book will be in stores on Tuesday, September 2nd. Great reading.

Tuesday will be the 12th anniversary of Bookreporter.com. Some days it feels like it’s been a lifetime since August 26, 1996 (think 14.4 modems and you too can feel like it was a lifetime) and other times it feels like it was yesterday. I do know that my world has been seriously enriched for all the people I met in the past dozen years. I still think I have the best job, but what I also realize is that this is not just a job to me. Writing about books and authors has come to define me, and this world, coupled with the immediacy of the online medium, makes me happy, which is pretty grand. So as we stop to celebrate this anniversary, I want to thank each and every reader of this newsletter and the website. Your reading --- and sharing --- has given this site and newsletter the spirit that is has.
 
We are taking our annual summer week off next week to give the staff some R&R time, so there will not be a Bookreporter.com update until September 5th. I am headed to the Outer Banks for pool floating and lots and lots of reading. (I know it’s shocking that I am not going to California! Watch Continental’s stock plummet on that announcement.) Yes, my medium-sized suitcase is filled with books, and I plan to have lunch with Jamie Layton from Duck's Cottage and to see my gal pals Jeanne and Brittany at Knitting Addiction in Southern Shores about the four --- yes, four --- knitting projects still in progress. More on what I have read when I get back. Note to anyone who thinks I need a Kindle. Three reasons: 1) Not waterproof. 2) I do not need one more thing to charge. 3) When they say “turn off all personal electronic devices” on airplanes, I think Kindles are included. And with the amount of time I spend sitting on runways, there’s at least a book of reading that happens on the tarmac!
 
You have a great TWO weeks...and for a laugh in lieu of next week’s newsletter, please all picture me spending the Sunday of Labor Day weekend hauling Greg’s paraphernalia into the elevator and up the stairs (3rd floor is a dream!!!) and teaching Greg the fine art of making a bed with the new sheets from The Company Store. I am sure this is the LAST time this bed will be made. This is the same child who has slept on a bare mattress in his sleeping bag and even once in trunk of his SUV when left on his own to make a bed.

Here's to great reading --- and lots of laughs. I do know that if I am laughing; I am not crying, which I fear will happen when I leave him at school. I am off to perfect my dolphin kick, which Michael Phelps made look soooo easy. Trust me, it’s not. I was in the pool this morning trying it and I sank. 

Carol Fitzgerald (Carol@bookreporter.com)

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