BARMAID ON DUTY "The pen is mightier than the sword," is a quote Carole Paulson claims as a personal favorite. She might do well to claim it as a personal affirmation. When one wriggles in-between the covers of her Life Without Socks (One In Ten Publishing, $11.95), it's easy to come away with the impression Paulson uses her pen like a skilled swordsman. Although she's no novice to writing, this is Paulson's first book. It's a collection of articles and essays written over a period of five years in the late eighties, most of them having previously appeared in Seattle's Guide Magazine where her monthly column Views From A Barmaid entertained and chastised friends and fans alike. The articles range from honest accounts of growing up in a Mormon household, to the whimsically wisecracking narrative of a misguided sleuth. Paulson takes us on a tour of her life. We get to know her family; everyone from her brother the Baseball, to aunt Freida, the black sheep of the fold. We meet her lovers, friends and co-workers. She's glowering toward some, earnestly affectionate toward others and pointedly irreverant toward the rest. We always learn a lesson from her stories and come away feeling for the character being morally shafted. It is a rare book in which the reader is afforded the opportunity to witness the development of a writer. Although Paulson's writing style shifts from story to story (often dramatically), it is always entertaining and never predictable. If we are being led to believe the Baseball is going to turn out gay, twenty pages later we're amazed to learn he's living in Philadelphia with a nursery full of babies. On another level the writing in Life Without Socks is fascinating. It is a rare book in which the reader is afforded the opportunity to witness the development of a writer. Over the five years in which she wrote the material for this book, Paulson found her voice. In her search she never balked at taking the necessary risks one takes to develop a voice, thus we have in Life Without Socks a record of the writer's growth. She breaks rules in order to find her path, then mends them again to her own purposes. Thus, purists of English grammar may find some of the writing incredulous, something Paulson may very well mean to be. Since the publishing of Life Without Socks, One In Ten has become defunct. After a battle, the author secured the unsold copies of her book which she hawked at festivals and signings. Now Paulson is silent. That's a shame, for although the pen may well be mightier than the sword, without an audience it's powerless. posted 01/20/01 TOP