I’ve felt especially word inspired recently. Maybe it’s the winter? The erractic seesaw between bitter cold, freezing rain and numbing snowstorm means that I want to spend a lot of time curled up in bed with something to read. On my bus rides to work I make a beeline for the first available seat and read steadily until it’s my stop. No dreamy window peering; I can barely see out the window.
- True Grit – Charles Portis: These days I just want to read books that take place in the steamy, dusty South. I want to read about horses and heat. I guess it’s another response to the weather. This book met that criteria, was laugh out loud funny, had a scrappy 14-year old heroine and was written beautifully. I was truly sad when it was over.
- Let’s Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste – by Carl Wilson: I’ve been a little disapointed with the 33 1/3 books I’ve read to date, but this one was a pure delight. Wilson examines sentimentality, the politics of taste, Quebecois culture, uses a Gilmore Girls episode to make a point about what works with Celine’s music, travels to Las Vegas and has a horrible time, quotes “The Book of Love” by the Magnetic Fields and more.
- Went to a zine reading featuring Jeff Miller (Ghost Pine zine) and Julian Evans (One Way Ticket), and I don’t know why zine readings never occured to me before. Zines are so chatty by nature – they work so well in this format. Speaking of readings, this month’s Pilot was also fun and there is just something vaguely satisfying about drinking a gin and tonic at the bar while listening to writers read on a late Sunday night when I’m normally home cuddled in pjs and thinking about the work week ahead of me.