Been awhile since I posted any book recommendations, so here are some new ones for y'all...

In honor of the recent Oscars, we'll start with a couple Hollywood books:

Down and Dirty Pictures by Peter Biskind -- a follow-up of sorts to his riveting Easy Riders, Raging Bulls, this book chronicles the rise and fall of the American independent cinema from the early 80s to the present by focusing primarily on the Sundance Institute and Miramax Pictures. Chock full of funny (and often painful) anecdotes about the behind-the-scenes machinations surrounding indie faves like Clerks, Pulp Fiction, Good Will Hunting, Sling Blade and a host of others, the book is a must read for any would-be independent filmmakers with aspirations of playing with the big boys (particularly big boys Bob and Harvey Weinstein). Don't expect much in the way of aesthetic analysis -- this book is less about story arcs and camera angles than deal structures and marketing strategies, factors that play as great a part in a film's ultimate success or failure as any high falutin' directorial vision. While the players chronicled lack the outsized personas and sex-drugs-rock-n-roll ethos that made Easy Riders, Raging Bulls so enthralling, there's still egos and greed aplenty, lots of swearing and repeated physical abuse of telephones.

Still Holding by Bruce Wagner -- speaking of telephones, this is the latest installment of Wagner's "cellular trilogy" a series that also includes I'll Let You Go and I'm Losing You. I quit the latter about halfway through, but Still Holding was so well written that I just couldn't put it down no matter what outrageous plot twists befell the sadists, masochists, narcissists, and very confused Buddhists that make up Wagner's satirical Hollywood, a universe that's funny, brutal and depressing all at once. Warning: this one is not for the squeamish, nor those who can't gain admittance to NC-17 movies.

Next up, a pair of recently translated Japanese novels:

Out by Natsuo Kirino -- a group of women who work at bento box lunch factory on the outskirts of Tokyo become embroiled in a gruesome cover-up when a long-suffering housewife kills her no good gambler of a husband. Turns out a couple of these women prove talented at this body disposal business, and discover it maybe a more marketable skill than molding rice balls and saucing pork cutlets. Translated by Stephen Snyder, the book is written in that flat, generic style way too prevalent in best-selling American fiction, but given Snyder also translated the wonderfully vivid Gold Rush, I'm guessing Kirino's prose is faithfully rendered. Still, Kirino's attention to detail, empathy with her nuanced characters and ability to keep the plot humming along overcome a somewhat overwrought ending to create a bleak portrait of the social ills plaguing modern Japan. (Meaning the book features drunken husbands, spoiled kids, perverted middle-aged men, blindly materialistic young women, and unglamorous loan shark yakuza types.)

Strangers by Taichi Yamada -- Recommended with only a slight bit of reluctance. Not that I didn't enjoy the book, but I really wanted to like it more than I did. I mean it's set in Tokyo, takes place partly in a strange, deserted apartment block, and features ghosts. What's not to like, right? According to the book jacket, Yamada is a hugely successful TV screenwriter, and maybe that's part of the problem. Sometimes it feels like he backs off some of the more interesting questions his material poses, almost as if to make sure there is still time to squeeze in commercials. Also, the 'surprise' ending has a kind of ready-made-for-the-screen feeling and will surprise almost no one. The book does, however, achieve some good creepy moments and an atmosphere of sadness and longing, so I still recommend it as a quick read -- at a slim 203 pages, you can finish it in an afternoon.

If you still need more, here are a few I can wholeheartedly endorse:

Life of Pi by Yann Martel -- This book is a rarity, a Booker prize winner that really is as great as everyone says. It's one of the most original novels I've read in years, and I while I was enjoying it, I still really didn't understand what all the fuss was about until around three quarters of the way through. If the beginning seems slow, don't worry -- stick with it and you'll be richly rewarded. The story is about a 16 year-old kid who gets stuck on small lifeboat with a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. Like most great fables, the books uses a deceptively simple set-up to create a profound and moving story that works on a number of levels.

The Dark Fields by Alan Glynn -- I ripped through this one almost as if I was on MDT-48, the fictional drug that blocked writer Eddie Spinola happens upon thanks to a chance meeting with an old cocaine buddy. The drug sends Eddie into hyper-productivity mode, allowing him to crank out a whole series of manuscripts in no time, learn Italian in a single night, master the stock market and generally win friends and influence influential people. Of course, as with all drugs there is a price, and once the strange blackouts start occuring Eddie finds himself in serious trouble. Wall Street serves as a great metaphor for addiction and greed, and Glynn using this setting to put a bit of oomph behind what is otherwise a fast-paced, well-written thriller. I'm anxiously waiting to see what he does next.

Pattern Recognition by William Gibson -- Back in the summer of 1991 or 1992, I lived in Minneapolis with a bunch of punk rockers who had a band called "Scooby Don't." I borrowed a copy of Neuromancer from one the guys, got about halfway through it and was enjoying it quite a bit, but then the band went on tour and the dude borrowed it back to read in the van. Somehow I never got around getting my own copy and finishing the novel. Still, people have been telling me that I should read William Gibson for years, and I'm glad I finally did. That Pattern Recognition is a globe hopping intrigue about 'cool-hunter' Cayce Pollard, who has been hired by a mysterious executive at a cutting-edge ad agency called Blue Ant to track down the origins of a series of strange film clips circulating on the Internet. Along the way, she gets involved with corporate espionage figures, anonymous message board/chat room obsessives and the Russian mafia. Its a snapshot of global consumerist culture that reads a lot like sci-fi, except it isn't -- the future is already here. Now if I could just go back and finish Neuromancer