The February 20 issue of the Guardian contained something remarkable, 28 authors offering advice on how to write fiction (see here and here). It’s a hugely varied recipe book, ranging from terse to wordy, from flippant to earnest, but it’s definitely worth scanning. I noted the following snippets that chimed with me:
- Diana Athill: ‘Read it aloud to yourself because that’s the only way to be sure the rhythms of the sentences are OK (prose rhythms are too complex and subtle to be thought out – they can be got right only by ear).’
- Helen Dunmore: ‘Finish the day’s writing when you still want to continue.’
- ‘Try to be accurate about stuff,’ suggests Anne Enright. Also: ‘Imagine that you are dying. If you had a terminal disease would you finish this book? Why not? The thing that annoys this 10-weeks-to-live self is the thing that is wrong with the book. So change it. Stop arguing with yourself. Change it. See? Easy. And no one had to die.’
- Michael Morpurgo: ‘Ted Hughes gave me this advice and it works wonders: record moments, fleeting impressions, overheard dialogue, your own sadnesses and bewilderments and joys.’
- Andrew Motion: ‘Decide when in the day (or night) it best suits you to write, and organise your life accordingly.’
- Will Self: ‘Regard yourself as a small corporation of one. Take yourself off on team-building exercises (long walks). Hold a Christmas party every year at which you stand in the corner of your writing room, shouting very loudly to yourself while drinking a bottle of white wine. Then masturbate under the desk. The following day you will feel a deep and cohering sense of embarrassment.’
Annie Proulx offers this lifetime manifesto:
Proceed slowly and take care.
To ensure that you proceed slowly, write by hand.
Write slowly and by hand only about subjects that interest you.
Develop craftsmanship through years of wide reading.
Rewrite and edit until you achieve the most felicitous phrase/sentence/paragraph/page/story/chapter.
Max Magee at The Millions, in a post eagerly anticipating three new releases, points me to The Ask, described by one review as ‘brilliant bile,’ by an author new to me, Sam Lipsyte. Literary savagery is just what this reader is looking for.
I’m encouraged by a Grist post: ‘Does Facebook deserve the hell it’s catching from Greenpeace?’ Apparently Facebook’s planned humongous data centre in Ohio will be powered by local utility Pacific Power, which is mostly coal-based. Greenpeace is recommending (and I agree) that the social networking giant should use its size and clout to pressure Pacific Power to deliver renewable-based electricity.
Step by small step, the moral stigma of coal heightens . . .
As a recent dropout from the corporate sector, the feral attacks on climate science and the scientists themselves are quite transparent to me. What puzzled me was why this savaging seems to actually work – doubts about climate science do seem have escalated. Why?
Bill McKibben, in ‘The attack on climate science is the O.J. moment of the 21st century,’ suggests that a concerted campaign has chosen to divert attention away from the high-level clarity of climate science work, onto trivial flaws and misdemeanours. As the O.J lawyers did, the trick is to subject individuals to relentless, inflammatory attack. The seeds of doubt are sown and then grow into scepticism.
It’s worth reproducing McKibben’s mildly hopeful conclusion:
In the long run, the climate deniers will lose; they’ll be a footnote to history. (Hey, even O.J. is finally in jail.) But they’ll lose because we’ll all lose, because by delaying action, they will have helped prevent us from taking the steps we need to take while there’s still time. If we’re going to make real change while it matters, it’s important to remember that their skepticism isn’t the root of the problem. It simply plays on our deep-seated resistance to change. That’s what gives the climate cynics ground to operate. That’s what we need to overcome, and at bottom that’s a battle as much about courage and hope as about data.
To an analytical person like me, knowledge equals data plus analysis. With climate change, knowledge clearly isn’t enough.
Last week’s reading:
- My first Lorrie Moore, A Gate at the Stairs, is a refreshing revelation. Moore’s highly individualistic writing style, all quirky similes and metaphors, laced with lyricism, is nothing like what I tend to read. As with other stylistic writers like Cormac McCarthy, I found the going slow because I needed to roll the paragraphs and sentences around in my mouth, but the reward was a very rich experience. The tale of a female college student, babysitting an adopted mixed-race child, develops slowly but then plunges into multiple tragedies. Our punning, acerbic heroine Tassie reminded me, rather incongruously, of the lead in Juno, and I liked her a lot. Moore modulates her prose, moving from humour to lyrical anomie. Highly recommended
Last week’s music:
- My Morning Jacket is a band I’ve skirted around, never really taking a good look at their emo-labelled albums. Jim James’s powerful presence in Monsters Of Folk persuaded me to get hold of the latest Jacket CD, Evil Urges. Well, it’s a mixed bag. Literally: reflective songs with James in falsetto voice, as in Monsters of Folk, beguiled me, but there are a number of stylistically offbeat songs, including one that sounds like Prince, that I could barely listen to. Perhaps Evil Urges represents a band undergoing democratic songwriting at the end of its life, perhaps all their albums are so eclectic, but the end result in my ears was negative.
Last week’s movies:
- The Road was one of the last decade’s finest novels, an apocalyptic father-son tale rendered palpable by amazing writing. It seemed impossible that anyone could convert Cormac McCarthy’s book into a worthy movie, but John Hillcoat has done just that by substituting a stunning visual backdrop of a grey, denuded, dying world for prose. There’s a touch more sentimentalism in the film than in the book, including a Nick Cave/Warren Ellis soundtrack that is surprisingly emotional, but somehow that tweaked outlook did not shatter the existential impact. Vigo Mortenson as the father and Kodi Smit-McPhee as son are rivetting, and Robert Duvall makes a remarkable short appearance. Surely The Road will be the peak of 2010’s filmic offerings.
Current reading/listening/viewing:
- Fiction: Blood Moon/Garry Disher; Spud – The Madness Continues/John van de Ruit; Bad Things Happen/Harry Dolan; Generosity: An Enhancement/Richard Powers; The Long Fall/Walter Mosley.
- Music: Magic Neighbor/Lisa Germano; Truelove’s Gutter/Richard Hawley
- Planned movies: Bright Star might end up being a DVD but I would like to see Up in the Air on the big screen
New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:
- Charlie Huston is one of those newly lauded thriller authors I haven’t tried. Sleepless, his new one in an apocalyptic setting, seems just the one to correct that deficiency.
- David Honeybone, founder of that wonderful crime fiction zine Crime Factory, recently recommended Stuart Neville’s The Twelve. When David recommends something, it’s seriously worthwhile
- A fresh slab of movies seem to be hitting the Melbourne cinemas. Who could forget the classic UK thriller series Edge of Darkness, but do we really want to see Mel Gibson in an American version? I’ll wait for reviews. Two others will be worthwhile: A Single Man and Shutter Island (based on Dennis Lehane’s fine book)
Last week’s reading:
- Parrot and Olivier in America is Peter Carey at his most exuberant, wild almost. Recounting the fictional tale of the trip to the new, troubling democratic nation of the United States of America by French nobleman Olivier-Jean-Baptist de Clarel de Barfleur and an artistic servant thrust upon him, John ‘Parrot’ Larrit. Carey succeeds marvellously in retelling the famed trip of Alexis de Tocqueville, fully inhabiting the two characters from different worlds. This is spooling, literary yet earth language at its zenith, and while Carey can edge towards form over substance, here he is firmly anchored in his fast-paced story. Fascinating, even revelatory, and a hoot to read.
- Ian Rankin has over recent years, in my opinion, discarded some of the sharp writing skills that distinguished his Inspector Rebus series. His last few book were, simply put, entertaining enough but forgettable. But there was something about The Complaints that invited me in and my instincts were right: this is Rankin back at his best. Introducing Malcolm Fox, a member of the unloved Complaints & Conduct department of the Edinburgh police, the ones who investigate bent coppers, the book races off at a fast pace and piles crisis upon crisis. Fox is a refreshing new hero, far less ‘flawed’ in that by now cliched genre manner, honest yet impetuous, with a sharp wit and engaging way. What lifts The Complaintsback into Rankin’s best heights is the plotting, labyrinthine as can be. The quality of the plotting lets Rankin’s other strengths, his sense of place, his dialogue and his pithy style, shine out. Wonderful.
Last week’s music:
- I was both anticipating and dreading John Fogerty’s C&W outing The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again, loving his voice but recoiling from the genre. And so it panned out: this is a moderately enjoyable outing for a remarkable singer rarely stretched. Standout tracks include John Prine’s ‘Paradise,’ with its Green River lyrics recalling the Creedence classic; ‘Garden Party,’ that marvellous Rick Nelson song reprised with no innovation, and partly spoiled by Don Henley guesting; ‘Change in the Weather,’ the only Fogerty-penned track, from way back in 1986 but sung with the urgency of climate change; and an upbeat version, sharing vocals with Bruce Springsteen, of Phil Everly’s ‘When Will I Be Loved.’ The other eight songs are somewhat ho-hum but who can deny Fogerty his day in the sun? And the bonus DVD, containing a rare interview with the man and some rehearsal footage, is almost worth the price of the album by itself.
- Logos is the second release of Atlas Sound, the solo project of Deerhunter main man Bradford Cox. I know little about Deerhunter but Logosis magical stuff. Often minimalist – shuffling guitar and effects overlaid by Cox’s fragile voice – the album is laced with lovely melodies, intimate lyrics and a nice indie rock feel. Two of the tracks stand out because they’re collaborations that end up sounding distinctive: ‘Walkabout’ with Animal Collective’s Noah Lennox, is a radio friendly upbeat single, while ‘Quick Canal’ is an eight-minute opus featuring Laetitia Sadier from Stereolab. A slow burner of an album, Logos will send me looking for related material.
Current reading/listening/viewing:
- Fiction: the tail end of A Gate at the Stairs/Lorrie Moore. Also Blood Moon/Garry Disher; Spud – The Madness Continues/John van de Ruit; Fever and Spear/Javier Marias; The Long Fall/Walter Mosley. Nonfiction: In the Company of Crows and Ravens/John M. Marzluff & Tony Angell
- Music: Magic Neighbor/Lisa Germano and Evil Urges/My Morning Jacket
- Planned movies: I’ll be catching the Melbourne debut of the film The Road, including a hosted discussion afterwards. Bright Star and Up in the Air are still in my sights
New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:
- In The New York Times Stephen Mihm accords a sparkling review to Joyce Appleby’s The Relentless Revolution: A History of Capitalism
- From some online preview of upcoming books: The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine/Michael Lewis and Union Atlantic/Adam Haslett
- No music or movies gleaned this week
Last week’s reading:
- ‘What the Heck Are You Up To, Mr. President?’: Jimmy Carter, America’s ‘Malaise,’ and the Speech that Should Have Changed the Country is an intriguing single-topic book by Kevin Mattson, an Ohio historian. He tells the story of the critical speech given by Carter on July 15, 1979, covering the energy crisis causing petrol station queues across the country. As Mattson portrays the event, Carter’s sober speech about the problems arising from energy-guzzling American habits was at first highly popular but quickly gave rise to a dramatic backlash against the president, one that was later seen as the turning point in Carter’s loss in 1980 to Reagan. Mattson writes engagingly and his analysis seems sound to me. Especially ironic is the fact that Carter’s prognosis was correct then and is correct now. This book is recommended but only if you have an interest in the era.
- A South African friend insisted I read Spud, a comedic bestseller in that country, written by John van der Ruit. Written in diary form, it’s one of those ‘lives of a thirteen-year-old’ novels, akin to Bridget Jones. Though I dreaded the read, it turned out to be thoroughly absorbing in a light but clever way. Stylistically, think Alexander McCall Smith set in South Africa just after around the end of apartheid. The author has splendid control of pace and a vivid sense of imagination. Not earth shattering but would appeal to many.
- The Spirit Level : Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better is an important book. Written by Richard Wilkinson & Kate Pickett, it postulates that many of a society’s attributes of healthiness – happiness, mortality rates, health, violence levels, etc., a whole heap of them – correlate staggeringly highly with that society’s level of inequality. Put bluntly, Sweden and Japan are much better countries to live in than America and Australia, because, so the authors claim, the first two countries have a far less divisive gap between rich and poor. The authors write clearly and convincingly, at least on the central thesis – the data, displayed with great clarity, seems to support their thesis. As to reasons why this should be so, I’m not completely sure of the notion that unequal societies breed resentment and psychological pressures that spill over into poor health and lowered morals. I’ve always felt that societal inequality is something to be battled and this book certainly reinforces my intuition. Highly recommended.
Last week’s movies:
- I saw Avatar in 3D, my first experience with this medium. It was a blast! The crisp storyline: on the baffling planet of Pandora, humans control the minds of synthetically created natives, and in this case a newcomer, crippled Jake Sully, penetrates the native society and becomes one of them, dramatizing the battle between humans and local people. Written and directed by the blockbuster star director James Cameron, it’s sweet, sweet magic from the opening frame: perfect plotting; fine acting, especially by Sam Worthington in the lead; breathtaking choreography and camerawork; seamless switches between animation and real human acting; a timeless if humdrum story with a moral. Writing about it somehow demeans the film; it demands to be experienced as a sensory and imaginative treat. I found myself breathless, muttering phrases like ‘this is reminding me how good film can be.’
- Catching up on 2009 movies missed on the big screen, I began with Katyn, directed by Polish director Andrzej Wajda, dramatising the murder of 12,000 Polish officers in World War II, an action ordered personal by Stalin in order to wipe out the Polish intelligentsia. For two generations this calumny was then blamed on the Nazis. Based on a Polish book, the film dovetails various stories, the most moving ones being of waiting women. The Polish actors are superb, the setting atmospheric, and the script tight. Why then did I find Katyn to have less impact than I’d expected? Perhaps because I knew the essence of the tale, perhaps because the ending holds no surprise at all, perhaps because the different character strands often peter out.
- Folks whose views I trust highly recommended Synecdoche, New York, penned and directed by the febrile Charlie Kaufman. And it did intrigue, as one would expect of a tale of a theatre director whose downward spiralling life prompts him to produce a Hollywood play about his own life, a project that quickly grows to absurd proportions. Themes such as capricious fate (there is much in common with A Serious Man), life’s purpose and storytelling run riot. Philip Seymour Hoffman is in superb form (when is he ever not?) and the rest of the cast works well. But the plot is a mess and increasinglyI could not judge if I was meant to muse, laugh or cry. Nothing makes sense, even at a symbolic level. Most disappointing.
- Beautiful Kate, based on a US novel transplanted into an Australian bush setting, is the scripting and directorial debut of actress Rachel Ward. A worldly but damaged writer returns home to visit his dying father, tended by a younger sister, and in the process begins to unravel the family tragedy of years earlier. Ben Mendelsohn puts in a great performance as the son, as do Bryan Brown and Rachel Griffiths. The script is tight, the camerawork is lovely, and no sentimentality is dredged up to cope with the film’s dark secrets. Raw and demanding, it was an absorbing viewing.
- Of all this week’s films, the one to fill me with awe and tears was The Soloist. Based on a nonfiction book, the storyline is simple: a jaded reporter spots a former cello prodigy living on the Los Angeles streets and senses a story, but nothing turns out as the reporter wishes it would. The script and direction (by the impressive Joe Wright) rocket along, making no concessions with scene cuts. The nightmarish ‘down and out’ streets of LA are stunningly filmed. But what gives the film special impact are two riveting performances: Jamie Foxx is unforgettable as the saintly but disturbed music lover, and Robert Downey Jr. gives his best ever performance as the empty wise guy. This would have reached my 2009 Top 10 if I’d seen it last year.
Last week’s music:
- It Feels So Good When I Stop is an offbeat release from Joe Pernice, the brilliance behind the Pernice Brothers. It’s essentially a soundtrack to Pernice’s novel of the same name, with the added twist that he sings other people’s songs that are mentioned in the book. I love the Pernice Brothers’ honed melodic feel and bittersweet vocals, so I snapped this up despite misgivings. Tribute albums fade away so fast. And so it proved with this one. The first track is a lovely rendition of Plush’s ‘Found a Little Baby,’ this is followed by terrifically tuneful versions of ‘I Go To Pieces’ (Dell Shannon) and ‘I’m Your Puppet’ (Dan Penn & Spooner Oldham), then there a few increasingly twangy songs that are well executed but bland. Add in a mystifying, weird version of ‘Chim Chim Cheree’ and I experienced a sense of letdown. Beautifully done, yes it is, but hardly worthwhile in any fundamental sense
Current reading/listening/viewing:
- Another eclectic fiction mix: Parrot and Olivier/Peter Carey; Spud – The Madness Continues/John van de Ruit; Fever and Spear/Javier Marias; A Gate at the Stairs/Lorrie Moore; and The Long Fall/Walter Mosley. Nonfiction: In the Company of Crows and Ravens/John M. Marzluff & Tony Angell
- Music: The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again/John Fogerty; Logos/Atlas Sound; and Evil Urges/My Morning Jacket
- Planned movies: Bright Star and Up in the Air
New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:
- Michael Lewis writes wonderful, smart books. The Blind Side isn’t one of his best but it was good enough to make me want to see the movie version, hopefully coming soon. Hope they don’t turn it into a saccharine flop
- I don’t know why but this book attracts me: A Good Talk: The Story and Skill of Conversation/Daniel Menaker
- Susan Linfield’s Washington Post review of Worse than War: Genocide, Eliminationism, and the Ongoing Assault on Humanity by Daniel Goldhagen is quite critical, but I’m immediately taken by the apparent scope and passion of the book.
- Spotted in a bookshop, another of those ‘existential How To’ books I’m a sucker for: The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything/Ken Robinson
- Still mulling over Testament: Paris/London/Keith Jarrett. More importantly, Freedy Johnston, sweet-tuned singer-songwriter close to my heart, has his first new release in nearly a decade, Rain on the City
Three films over the last year captured my heart because, I belatedly recognized, they’re set in the 1960s music scene. Make no mistake, The Boat that Rocked, Taking Woodstock, and Nowhere Boy are all superbly crafted movies, but what tugged at my emotions was their overt affection for the period. Nostalgia had struck me!
Nostalgia is big business in the the 21st century music biz. Us hippies and wannabe hippies shell out big bucks for reunion tours, retrospectives and biographies. I’m happy to do my part . . . but only to a minor extent.
Nostalgia is too easy a reflex sentiment. Far better to retain the sharpness of one’s critical faculties, to search for the new. The next time I’m in front of the big screen embedded in the 1960s, I’ll be on my guard.
Posted in Film, Rock Music |
Last week’s reading:
- Robert Harris’s Lustrum is the second of two novels recounting the life of Roman philosopher/orator/lawyer/politician Cicero. Harris can write smoothly and entertainingly about any subject, modern or ancient, Lustrum being a good example. It’s an enjoyable and intriguing read, although the five-year period covered by this book is telescoped at the end, at which time the man Cicero sheds some of his heroic qualities, so I felt a trifle flat upon turning over the last page.
- Another fine writer, this time of nonfiction, is Tracy Kidder. I can’t say I’ve read more than a couple of his books, but I was drawn to Strength in What Remainsby the rave reviews highlighting both his narrative skill and palpable morality. And so the book delivers, in this story of Deogratias, who arrives in New York at age 24 with $200 in his pocket and not a word of English, after spending a horrific, long period dodging death during the Burundi massacres. Life in New York proves as difficult as life in Burundi. This is an artfully constructed work that somehow captures his subject’s feelings during events so harrowing they’re hard to imagine. The picture that shines through the author’s words is the hesitant, solid courage of Deo, who continues to suffer from hellish memories but somehow carves out a new, caring life.
- A few years ago, Barry Dickins – poet, raconteur, tabloid columnist and journalist, author of thirty books – received ECT shock therapy for acute depression in a Melbourne psychiatric clinic. Unparalleled Sorrow, his memoir of those days and the days after, is a freeform, irksome mess. Not easily recommended, it is nonetheless a rare, candid and penetrating glimpse into ‘the black dog’ and modern psychiatric treatment. The sadness that pervades every paragraph is hard to bear
Last week’s movies:
- Nowhere Boy is a small-frame drama accorded tremendous heft by tackling John Lennon before the Beatles came into being. I’m wary of biopics but this one sparkles throughout: a tight, unsentimental script; fine acting (Aaron Johnson as Lennon absolutely rings true); spot-on music of the times(including a marvellous studio scene of John, Paul and George recording as The Quarrymen)
Last week’s music:
- Waxing Gibbous/Malcolm Middleton – another witty, often morose but always intriguing release from Arab Strap founder Middleton. Songs vary from self-strummed ditties (I saw him live last year in this format, quite wonderful) to bombastic band pieces. Always the words hold centre stage and the best tracks (‘Carry Me’ and ‘Don’t Want to Sleep Tonight’) are moving
- The Century of Self/And They Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead - the first album by this independent American band that I’ve listened to and I’m grateful I did. Graced with two songwriters and singers (who sound best when singing or roaring together, Clash-style), they seem to me an individualistic mix of prog, stadium rock and punk. They don’t hesitate to include instrumental tracks and to experiment, but the wild, churning tracks are the ones that will stick in my head. A wonderful discovery.
Current reading/listening/viewing:
- My current reading diet is most varied. On the fiction front: Parrot and Olivier/Peter Carey; Spud/John van de Ruit; Fever and Spear/Javier Marias. Nonfiction: The Age of Wonder/Richard Holmes; The Spirit Level/Richard Wilkinson & Kate Pickett; “What the Heck Are You Up to, Mr. President?”/ Kevin Mattson
- I keep lending Colm Toibin’s Brooklyn to friends, must get it back (it’s just won the Costa award for best novel)
- Not much music on the go, need to stock up: It Feels So Good When I Stop/Joe Pernice and Logos/Atlas Sound
- Planned movies: Avatar, Bright Star
New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:
- Animated action/sci-fi Avatarin 3D. The appeal comes from all sorts of directions: sci fi, a rarity these days; great graphics; novelty value of 3D; some fine reviews; and even political controversy (see this post and this onefrom Andrew Leonard). Jane Campion’s films always captivate, even the less stellar ones – Bright Star, her take on part of Keats’s life, has recently opened in Melbourne. Fresh from the triumph of Juno, Jason Reitman must be given a go with his new comedy flick Up in the Air, starring George Clooney. Stephanie Zacharek found it lightweight but the trailers seem genuinely funny, especially to a veteran airport denizen like me. Quite how The Roadwill translate from Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic masterpiece is hard to imagine but it’s a must-see. An intriguing documentary (see the NYT review) might not make the big screen here - In Search of Memory: The Neuroscientist Eric Kandel. Missed onscreen so wait for DVD: Where the Wild Things Are/Spike Jonze and Away We Go/Sam Mendes
- Belatedly, from Andrew O’Hehir’s deliciously principled ‘best of 2009′ list [add link], some movies I’ll keep an eye out for, unsure if I’ll even be able to get them here on DVD: Branson, Il Divo, The White Ribbon, and 35 Shots of Rum
- William Boyd has a reputation for intelligent thrillers but I gave up a few years ago after a few disappointments. Well, Ordinary Thunderstorms, whilst ending up on few 2009 Best Of charts, was recommended by a number of those ‘my favourite’ lists, and seems to have a classic thriller plot.
- Laura Miller of Salon has a column recommending a book a week. Heaven forbid that I should slavishly follow her advice, but I’ve always found her judgement to be good, and on December 28 she recommended two books as ‘captivating’: The Privileges/Jonathan Dee and The Unnamed/Joshua Ferris
- Two leftfield nonfiction books that somehow got my attention while doing ‘best of 2009′ reading: Worlds Made by Words: Scholarship and Community in the Modern West/Anthony Grafton; and The Great Cities of History/John Julius Norwich (ed.). Also Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks/Ethan Gilsdorf
- In my quest for new rock music, three rather daring (I think) selections: Do Make Say This/Other Truths (see this post-rock band’s review on Pitchfork) and Self-titled/The Amazing. Just as much a leap in the dark, though I know some of her past music: Magic Neighbor/Lisa Germano. Someone I haven’t purchased for some time: Testament: Paris/London/Keith Jarrett. And for the voice, man: The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again/John Fogerty
I’ve been tardy in staying on top of the complex (of course it is, otherwise why my nagging ongoing fascination?) field of personal genomic testing. Thank goodness I do regularly check Daniel MacArthur’s pitch-perfect Genetic Future blog. Wednesday’s post alerted me to two fine ’status report’ reports: one from Mark Henderson of The Times and the other from blogger Dan Vorhaus who runs the Genomics Law Report blog. Amongst all the arising questions, the two most intriguing ones seem to be:
- Will we end up organizing and interpreting our own genetic tests or will doctors end up as the organizers, as they do with blood tests?
- Who will control the data? (Simplistically I imagine I’ll always be in the position of incontrovertibly owning my own genome test results but it seems nothing is so easy.)