What was the first reading you ever went to? Tell us the author, book, and bookstore on our Facebook page (or, if you’re not a member of Facebook, here on our blog) and we’ll reward two people with an Algonquin book of their choice.
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Below, our newest hire–publicist extraordinaire Megan Fishmann–offers up her report on a recent New Stories from the South, 2010 event at Quail Ridge Books.

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I’ve never been to Raleigh.

Scratch that. I’ve been to the Raleigh airport once. And now that I think about it, the first weekend I moved here I found myself in the Crabtree Valley Mall, taking part in the $30.00 prime rib special at Flemings. But the Raleigh that I’ve read and heard about, its food and its culture, has been experienced mostly via my computer.

Before I came to Algonquin, I worked at another publishing house in New York City. This meant that I used to set up a lot of book events here in North Carolina. Names like The Regulator and McIntyre’s were exactly just that: names on a page. However, now one of those names–Quail Ridge Books and Music in Raleigh–was going to be a place where I experienced my first Algonquin event.

Algonquin is an intimate company; and by intimate, I mean that we truly are a team. When one author reads, it doesn’t matter if you’re working on the book or not: You not only show up to the reading, you want to show up to the reading. Even on a Monday night. Even on a Monday night, the week before Labor Day weekend.

We drove to Quail Ridge in a caravan, our line of cars snaking down 40 West into the Raleigh traffic. The event on tap was for NEW STORIES FROM THE SOUTH: 2010. Kathy Pories, the series editor, would lead the discussion and contributors Wells Tower and Aaron Gwyn would read from their collective stories “Retreat” and “Drive.” Wells was a Chapel Hill native. Aaron and his girlfriend would be making the two-hour trek from Charlotte.

People were already milling about by the time we got to Quail Ridge. I found Wells over by the magazines, perusing an issue of Garden and Gun. Aaron swept me into a bear hug when I approached him by the podium. These were friendly writers. These were good writers.

“It’s important,” owner Nancy Olson began, “to remember the independent bookstores. It makes a difference purchasing from them versus the chains. Coming here and supporting us really does matter. We appreciate your being here.” Nancy’s enthusiasm bubbled over and swirled around the packed audience. Kathy stood up and pointed out Ana Alvarez, another Algonquin team member, who previously sifted through hundreds upon hundreds of literary journals and magazines–locating Southern stories in general that Amy Hempel, the guest editor, would later choose for the final collection.

We listened as Wells and Aaron read about sex in cars and feuding brothers, death wishes and purchased mountains. People in the audience raised questions about revising short stories and what made Southern literature particularly Southern. Someone in the front row pointed out Wells’s recent accolades in a certain publication and he blushed. “That’s my dad,” he interrupted. “And I think that’s about enough for now.”

The short story was dissected and soon, it became a group discussion with the audience. The energy level  rose as people fought for the short story, for the novel, for physical books, and for independent bookstores. Who could even propose the notion that literature was dead?

The books signed, the chairs put away, we–the authors, the editors, the publicists, and the entourage–trudged over in the darkness to a nearby restaurant where Travis, our waiter, feted us with warm baked bread and mile-high piled burgers. Sated, our plates empty, we slipped back separately into our cars and disappeared into the night.

–Megan Fishmann, Publicist
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Algonquin Books is proud to celebrate a quarter-century’s worth of stellar short stories with the publication of its annual anthology, NEW STORIES FROM THE SOUTH.

Over the course of the week, we’ll be featuring spotlight interviews with series editor Kathy Pories, contributor Wells Tower, guest editor Amy Hempel, and founding series editor Shannon Ravenel. And we’ll be giving away copies each day: Just leave a comment here on on our Facebook page to enter.

Today’s interview is with Algonquin in-house senior editor Kathy Pories, who talks about her methods of editing, feral cats, and where to find her when she’s hungry.

1. Where do you do your best editing? At home? At work? At a coffee shop?

I try to edit at work, but I do my best editing at home, with frequent breaks. Coffee shops work well too, though, until someone starts pontificating at a nearby table. Or moves their chair. Or breathes.

2. What does a “Southern story” mean to you?

We like to play fast and loose with these terms—basically, any story set in the South, or referring back to the South, or with a Southern character (see Adam Atlas’s story), or by a Southern writer. We’re not trying to keep people out, but trying to discover all of the ways in which the South stealthily creeps into and overtakes a story, not unlike kudzu.

3. How many stories do you typically receive for New Stories from the South? Can you describe the process of selection a little bit?

We have complimentary subscriptions to approximately 100-some journals, and each of those publishes 2-4 issues a year. We go through each of those, looking for any story that we can claim has some tie to the South, and then decide if it’s strong enough to be in the preliminary pile for the guest editor. Not all of them make the cut. This year we sent about 65 stories to guest editor Amy Hempel. Out of that pile, she picked 25 stories for the anthology. To my eye, she picked the absolute best stories.

4. What’s the last non-work-related book you read that stopped you in your tracks?

Edward P. Jones’s The Known World. I finished it two weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to pick up anything else since, as I don’t want to stop thinking about it. It’s so epic and so painful, and yet never once does it feel sentimental or melodramatic.

5. What’s the last book you loaned out that you regret giving away?

So Long, See You Tomorrow, by William Maxwell, first edition. Thank you for asking this; maybe the person I lent it to will read this and send it back to me.

6. How many revisions on average does it take until you feel a story’s complete?

Well, for New Stories from the South, we don’t edit the stories—we run them just as they appeared originally in the journals. But when I’m editing a story collection, it is usually three drafts or more. And that’s probably after the writer has taken it through three drafts.  One of my favorite writers who I work with, Wendy Brenner, was once asked about the process of editing. She said, “I write three sentences. Then I cross out two. Then my editor crosses out the third one.” I think the best stories were probably twice as long before I ever saw them. I’m of the mind that less is more, that the reader likes to put things together rather than being spoon-fed meaning.

7. What does the South mean to you?

The South means the place I can’t leave, inexplicably. It keeps changing, so I won’t get all nostalgic and talk about porches and lazy warm days and iced tea, though I don’t mind any of that. All I ask is that there continue to be gas stations that sell bright red pickled eggs and slabs of farmer’s cheese at the counter, that I encounter at least one wild dog or feral cat or possum or deer each month, and that I hear at least one story involving a snake.

8. What is your favorite place in the South?

A country road on a bike ride where we saw a hand-painted sign pointing to a small shack. The sign said, SODAS. HONK YOUR HONE. Inside that shack we bought ice cold Sprites from an old icebox for a quarter each.

9. More importantly, please describe your favorite meal in the South.

A dinner at Crook’s Corner, with Jalapeno Hushpuppies to start, some Scallops with Hominy, and a Mount Airy Chocolate Soufflé Cake for dessert. Then I lie down for a very long time.

10. In her introduction as guest editor to New Stories from the South: 2010, Amy Hempel writes, “Much of what I read from the contemporary South has a soundtrack.” As a North Carolinian resident, what is your current ‘Southern’ soundtrack?

Ola Podrida, a band out of Austin. Beautiful haunting music. Can we call Texas the South? Sure.

* And the bonus q: You are stranded on a desert island with any celebrity, living only. Who would you choose?

Does he have to be Southern?

Interview by
Megan Fishmann,
Publicist

After an exciting three months of movie updates and set photos, the Water for Elephants film has wrapped. With an announced release date of April 15, we now have to wait eight long months for the producers, directors, and movie editors to work their magic. We’re going to miss seeing photos of Tai/Rosie the elephant, Queenie the dog, the horses, tigers, and circus memorabilia, and, of course, Reese Witherspoon, Christoph Waltz, and RPattz. In the meantime, here are a few set photos to tie you over, as well as a countdown widget to the movie’s release date, from our friends at WaterforElephantsFilm.com.

Despite my 6 year jaunt in New York City and my love of 3-inch high heels, I’m one of those GRITS at heart (for those of you not familiar with this term, it stands for Girl Raised In The South). I learned how to drive a tractor, can shell peas with the best of them, and I grew up on good Southern cooking. I learned most of my culinary skills from my grandma, so now that I’m living closer to home I’m taking advantage of her proximity to learn one of those skills I missed – canning. Come January I’ll be really happy that I learned this skill with stacks of canned fruits and veggies in my pantry!

I recently flipped through an Algonquin backlist book called Dori Sanders’ Country Cooking: Recipes & Stories from the Family Farm Stand which has a recipe for Bourbon-laced Tipsy Chicken with Peaches. With this dish on my mind, I decided peaches would be the perfect fresh produce for my first attempt at canning.

A few of the necessary things in order to complete this project:

• A bushel of delicious, big peaches (mine were purchased at a small farm in Charleston)
• Canning stuff (pressure cooker, jars, lids, etc.)
• The guidance of  Granny Shirley (my grandmother, for those of you who are not an acquaintance of Granny Shirley)
• The assistance of sous chef Mom (it’s very important to have a sous chef to do those time-consuming tasks like peeling a bushel of scalding hot peaches)

While I thought it took an army and a lot of sweat to can a bushel of peaches, it actually only takes a few Southern women (preferably one who has the necessary canning knowledge) and a few hours of your time. Rather than detailing the entire process for you, dear readers, a shortened version with pictures is below. If you want to know all the details, you’ll have to consult Granny Shirley or buy a copy of PUT ‘EM UP from our sister imprint Storey.

Sterilize your jars and lids with scalding water.

Place whole peaches in boiling water for 1 minute so the skins can loosen up. Remove from the pot and have other people peel and cut them into slices for you (hence the need for sous chef Mom).

Tightly pack peaches into the jars, squish them down, and then pack in more. Seriously, you can put a lot more peach slices in a jar than you think.

Pour hot sugar water on top of the peaches to fill in the extra space in the jar.

Do what Granny Shirley calls “burping the jars”…you have to make sure all the air bubbles in the jar are filled up with the sugar water so that it seals right and doesn’t turn gross.

Clean off the jars and seal them with a lid and ring.

Put jars in the pressure cooker, which is filled with hot water, and seal with the presser cooker lid. The gauge needs to go up 10 pounds of pressure for 5 minutes and then you have to remove the pot from heat and let it naturally cool down without removing the pressure cooker lid. This part takes forever!

Remove the peaches from the cooker and listen for the lids to “pop”, or concave in the middle, within 15-20 minutes. This means they’ve sealed correctly. Make sure you take off the rings and clean the entire outside of the jar to avoid rust, then add rings back on. Finally, spend at least 5 minutes admiring your beautiful rows of canned peaches!

Using my newly canned peaches, I tried out the delicious recipe from Dori Sander’s Country Cooking for bourbon-laced tipsy chicken with peaches, which I’ve added below for you to also try out.

A big thanks to Granny Shirley and Mom, without whom this project wouldn’t have been possible!

Brought to you with no commercial interruptions by Kelly, Senior Publicist with Algonquin Books, and Granny Shirley, a huge Algonquin supporter and the Grand Dame of Canning.

Bourbon-Laced Tipsy Chicken with Peaches

4 chicken leg quarters (thigh attached)

½ tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. pepper

2 tbsp. butter

1 large onion, finely chopped

1 tsp. paprika

1 1/2 cups green onions, chopped (about 6 green onions, including green part)

½ cup orange juice

2 tbsp. bourbon

1 cup peaches, chopped (about 2 medium peaches)

A dash of nutmeg

1. Preheat oven to 400°F.
2. Sprinkle the chicken quarters with salt and pepper. Place in a 13” x 9” baking pan and set aside.
3. In a medium skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the paprika and all but 1 tbsp. of the green onions, and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, for an additional 4 minutes.
4. Spread the onion mixture evenly over the chicken, spoon the orange juice and bourbon over the top, and bake in the preheated oven for 30 minutes, turning and basting occasionally.
5. Remove the chicken from the oven, spoon the peaches over the top, sprinkle with nutmeg, and return to the oven for an additional 15-20 minutes or until the chicken is tender and shows no trace of pink near the bone.
6. Remove the chicken from the pan, place on a serving dish, and pour the pan juices over the chicken. Garnish with the remaining green onions and serve immediately.