Backtalk: Marion Ettlinger, Pauline Kael on WFAD, Susan Stockton, Tom Paine

HOT SHOT: Photo shoots and book signings. Writers dread them both. Except those lucky authors who end up sitting — or “writhing on the floor” — for ex-Vermont photographer Marion Ettlinger. “Aspiring novelists have asked her to take their pictures before they’ve even written books,” New York Observer noted last week in the first story hailing Ettlinger as the hippest — and most publicity-shy — literary photographer in New York. It also made mention of her recent appearance in a New York Times Magazine spread devoted to the heirs of the “beat” generation. And her very cool decision to skip a celeb-studded opening at the Whitney to hear “a rock band called The Cuts, formed by friends from Vermont.” Only five years ago, Brooklyn-born Ettlinger was still shooting music covers for the Vanguard Press — though she’d already started shooting for magazines and book jackets for Knopf, with subjects like Cormac McCarthy, Truman Capote and Ken Kesey. But she was reluctant to leave Vermont altogether, and kept a Church Street apartment for years after making the move to Manhattan. Even in New York, Ettlinger keeps a low profile. She avoids all cameras except her own — the head shot in the Observer was a rare exception. And she maintains a break-neck schedule full of reading, schmoozing and marathon photo shoots. One writer describes her black and white beauties as “intellectual pinups.” Says Ettlinger, “Good looks don’t make a good photograph.” Good photographers do.

EAT YOUR KAEL: Middlebury deejay Jeff Kaufman is not your typical radio talk-show host. Formerly a pre-Tina Brown messenger at The New Yorker magazine, he was a housesitter for Janet Malcolm, a human punching bag for St. Clair McKelway, and a friend to film critic Pauline Kael, who, says Kaufman, “was kind enough to be nice to me.” Last week he scored a telephone interview with Kael, who was full of holiday recommendations for “good little movies that didn’t get a lot of attention in the press:” Second Best, Before Sunrise, Cobb, High Tide, One False Move, Law of Desire. As usual, Kael offered delightfully unpretentious commentary on everything from Casino to Dumb and Dumber. Tune in to WFAD next Wednesday at 11 a.m. for the whole show.

IN BRIEF: Middlebury College waited a long time for Susan Stockton — hiring committee members spent months scouring the country for a new director of the arts center. Six months after she took the job, Stockton appears to be easing out of it. She spends three days a week on campus, the other two working from home in New Hampshire. “Its not ideal,” she concedes, noting she had “personal reasons” for not making the move to Middlebury. Her new “contract” comes up for review in February. Could be a long, cold one. . .Santa came through this year for the Jazz Mandolin Project. The local trio is playing post-Christmas at the Knitting Factory with Michael Ray and the Kosmic Krewe. The East Village club has hosted everybody from Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth to John Zorn and Bill Frisell. “We are really psyched,” says mandolinist Jamie Masefield, calling the cutting-edge nightclub his “dream debut.” The band plays Boston for the first time Thursday. . . “Little Mister Man” has landed, and it reads like a sick “Calvin” from outer space. Slave Labor Graphics printed the new one from Burlington cartoonist James Kochalka. Twenty thousand of them. Particularly whacky are the blurbs on the back. “What is the point of printing such idiocy?” one reviewer commented. Another? “I’m waiting for everyone who’s praised his work in print to suddenly admit it was all a joke.” If anyone understands that any press is good press, it’s our Superstar. . .Vermont writer Tom Paine is on a roll. Less than a year ago, he published a short story in The New Yorker. Last week the same piece earned him an O. Henry — the literary prize, not the candy bar. The winning word comes with a contract — his will be one of 20 stories in a prestigious anthology of short stories published this spring. With those credentials, who needs a master’s? To say nothing of the weekly haul from New York to Charlotte.