I started this blog to more or less keep track of what I was reading and thinking about reading and when I left my house to go listen to people read, I thought I'd talk about that, too.
Really I have no good way to explain how I got from Proust to Lisa Olstein to Kelly Link to A.S. Byatt to Foucault to Balibar to Elizabeth Hughey to Dawn Powell to Ralph Ellison in roughly a month and a half. But voila. Here I am. Still trying to process everything. One day I'd like to write more about it all.
I've also read Anne's poems in Juked and Front Porch; watched Jed read from The Manual of Detection at Amherst Books; shared in a victory dance with Miranda, recently published in Meridian (not to be confused with the magazine published by the Mormons).
I've manned the jib of a 16-footer on Jamaica Pond. I've sat uncomfortably through "Where the Wild Things Are," with its sad belief that humans really are incapable of communicating with one another in any nice way. I've been making sound effects for this bumper sticker. I've been writing poems about underwater cities.
I've been liking this song, even though I'm not sure that I'm ready to endorse a return to the 70s mustache, or the cheesy lyrics, or their particular (and kind of unfortunate) placement of the word 'encyclopedia.' But it's catchy:
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