28 June 2007
25 June 2007
22 June 2007
I just spent money I don't have on books
McSweeneys is sending me:
The Baby Be of Use series includes such titles as "Baby Fix My Car", "Baby Do My Banking", "Baby Make Me Breakfast" and my favorite (based on title alone), "Baby Mix Me A Drink". Anyone who chooses to procreate in the next few years is possibly going to hate me.
The "End of I" bundle is two books by Stephen Dixon (who Michael recommended to me after I wrote some really atrocious dialogue).
The Better of McSweeney's is a compilation including writers like George Saunders.
The Secret Language of Sleep just looks amusing.
Total number of books bought: 8
Total money spent, including shipping: $50
Now Granted, I don't really have $50 to spend, but McSweeneys is having a huge, gigantic sale right now, so you should go support them, because I love them and think they're unendingly entertaining.
You can find McSweeney's here: McSweeneys
Go check them out, damnit.
| Baby Be of Use Four-Book Bundle | |||
| End of I. Bundle | |||
| The Better of McSweeney's | |||
| The Secret Language of Sleep: A Couple's Guide to the Thirty-Nine Positions |
The Baby Be of Use series includes such titles as "Baby Fix My Car", "Baby Do My Banking", "Baby Make Me Breakfast" and my favorite (based on title alone), "Baby Mix Me A Drink". Anyone who chooses to procreate in the next few years is possibly going to hate me.
The "End of I" bundle is two books by Stephen Dixon (who Michael recommended to me after I wrote some really atrocious dialogue).
The Better of McSweeney's is a compilation including writers like George Saunders.
The Secret Language of Sleep just looks amusing.
Total number of books bought: 8
Total money spent, including shipping: $50
Now Granted, I don't really have $50 to spend, but McSweeneys is having a huge, gigantic sale right now, so you should go support them, because I love them and think they're unendingly entertaining.
You can find McSweeney's here: McSweeneys
Go check them out, damnit.
13 June 2007
24 May 2007
12 May 2007
A cocktail party, in which my head is the guest of honor
head, meet table. (loud crashing sounds)
head, meet brick wall. (more loud crashing sounds)
head, meet metal barrel. (loud, metallic crashing sounds)
head, meet windshield. (loud, glass-shattering crashing sounds)
head, meet firedoor. (loud, dense crashing sounds)
head, meet metal post. (loud, pseudo-echoing sounds)
head, meet steering. wheel (loud, horn sounds)
head, meet register. (loud, metal sliding sounds)
head, meet creative work. (silence)
head, meet rhetorical analysis project. (head tentatively shakes hands)
head, meet portfolio revisions. (head edges away towards the door)
head, meet senior thesis. (head runs away screaming)
head, meet brick wall. (more loud crashing sounds)
head, meet metal barrel. (loud, metallic crashing sounds)
head, meet windshield. (loud, glass-shattering crashing sounds)
head, meet firedoor. (loud, dense crashing sounds)
head, meet metal post. (loud, pseudo-echoing sounds)
head, meet steering. wheel (loud, horn sounds)
head, meet register. (loud, metal sliding sounds)
head, meet creative work. (silence)
head, meet rhetorical analysis project. (head tentatively shakes hands)
head, meet portfolio revisions. (head edges away towards the door)
head, meet senior thesis. (head runs away screaming)
09 May 2007
Thank Yous
1. Thank you to Megan for calling my attention to the word Crème Brulée.
(Crème Brulée, with it's
accent lines, is beautiful, like
the symmetry of a Warhol, folding
into itself like the set of my first
linen napkins.)
2. Thank you to Chelsea for coming to Senior Thesis presentations tonight. I almost claimed you as my guest (even though, technically, you weren't), but decided not to embarrass you. It was nice to see a supportive soul in the audience whose attendance wasn't mandatory.
3. Thank you to those of you who have been giving me workshop quality comments on my random mind-explosions (ie poem-things). While I am very appreciative of these most helpful gestures, I want to make sure that you realize you are in fact encouraging this bad behavior and may, therefore, be inadvertently responsible for me posting more poems. Just so you're aware.
(Crème Brulée, with it's
accent lines, is beautiful, like
the symmetry of a Warhol, folding
into itself like the set of my first
linen napkins.)
2. Thank you to Chelsea for coming to Senior Thesis presentations tonight. I almost claimed you as my guest (even though, technically, you weren't), but decided not to embarrass you. It was nice to see a supportive soul in the audience whose attendance wasn't mandatory.
3. Thank you to those of you who have been giving me workshop quality comments on my random mind-explosions (ie poem-things). While I am very appreciative of these most helpful gestures, I want to make sure that you realize you are in fact encouraging this bad behavior and may, therefore, be inadvertently responsible for me posting more poems. Just so you're aware.
04 May 2007
Sigh
Bret, we can get slammed in workshop together. You for not finishing your story and me for not having an actual story. But at least we have something and at least it's our last workshop.
30 April 2007
Side note
Today at work I caught myself paraphrasing Barthelme.
Coworker: How do you like your new apartment?
Me: I think it'll suit me fine.
Coworker: How do you like your new apartment?
Me: I think it'll suit me fine.
28 April 2007
The post I promised you-- it's about books
Okay...
So once I got over the fact that Chelsea broke out of our little fiction cult and actually made real internet friends...naturally I started reading their blogs. One thing that really caught my eye was the lists of books....to be read, to be owned, to read again, all time favorites... the lists went on for what seemed to be forever.
This, naturally, got me to think about my own library. Some people think that I'm well read, but I'm not so sure. I read a little here, and a little there, frequently for class, sometimes serendipity throws books into my lap. Having a job at the parking garage last summer allowed me to read 10,000 pages. A lot of those pages belonged to books that I'm not going to admit to have read. A few of them, I will though. Last summer I read Gore Vidal for the first time, and I'm still thinking about that book (all 500+ pages). I also read Saunder's other story collection (Pastoralia, which I highly recommend), and ZZ Packer's collection (which I had really mixed feelings about). I have a lot of random books on my shelf that look pseudo-impressive, and some books that don't. I love buying books, sometimes I buy by author, sometimes by title, occasionally by cover (the back one, not the...okay sometimes by the front one).
But there's a lot out there that I haven't read. Like Hamlet. I fucking hate Hamlet...can't do it. I've also not read a lot of Faulkner (okay almost no Faulkner) same for Hemingway. I've also not read the novels of Garcia Marquez (despite having loved his short fiction in high school...if you're ever looking for short stories and you're bored, check out Strange Pilgrims by Gabriel Garcia Marquez). The only Joyce I've ever read is Araby. My Woolf oeuvre is pathetic. I still haven't read Jhumpa Lahiri's novel (The Namesake). I haven't read House of the Spirits (Allende). I never made it through Rushdie's Midnight's Children (started it though). I've started Camus's The Plague at least twice, haven't finished it yet. I didn't finish Lolita. I've not read much Henry James. I started a Phillip Roth book once (can't remember which one). I've also not been exposed to a lot of contemporary fiction. The problem with contemporary fiction is that I don't really even know the names to go after.
The other problem is that I was an over-ambitious reader when I was younger. I read Catcher in the Rye when I was twelve. I'm pretty sure that most of the book went over my head because after I finished it, I wondered what the big deal was about. I'm pretty sure I haven't head Jane Eyre in 10 years. I reread most of my Austen library (again, definitely not complete) last year for the first time in almost ten years. I think I read Lolita too young, I was maybe 15 or 16. I know I was too young to really appreciate Arundati Roy's The God of Small Things (again, maybe 14?)-- I got the book, but I didn't really like it. I read Slaughterhouse V when I was maybe 15-- again, a book that went over my head at the time. I'm trying to brainstorm books that I've read and this would be so much easier if I were at my parents house (where the bulk of my books are living).
So, I as I was reading these lists on Angelle's blog, I started thinking about my essential books. Beloved (Toni Morrisson) is definitely on there. I read it the summer before my senior year of high school, and I'm still thinking about it. The Autobiography of Malcolm X changed the way that I saw the world (and it was great fun reading it when I was in Mississippi for three weeks). Daniel Quinn's books gave me one of the biggest head-fucks I've ever had, and I'm still grateful for it. I love the adult fiction of Roald Dahl-- to me he's one of the best story tellers of the 20th century and if none of you have read him, go track down his stories "Royal Jelly" and "The Great Automatic Grammatisator"... hell, get the entire Omnibus, you won't regret it. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera was probably the most phenomenal book I read sophomore year (of college). I know there are other books, but they're slipping my mind. Julie Orringer, if she continues to live in my head, will make this list.
So anyways, now that you've suffered through reading this ill-organized and unaesthetic looking blog entry, I'm charging you, reader, with a task. Tell me what to read. Help me draft a list.
Also, Chelsea, if you become a literary agent, and I make it to that point, will you consider representing me?
So once I got over the fact that Chelsea broke out of our little fiction cult and actually made real internet friends...naturally I started reading their blogs. One thing that really caught my eye was the lists of books....to be read, to be owned, to read again, all time favorites... the lists went on for what seemed to be forever.
This, naturally, got me to think about my own library. Some people think that I'm well read, but I'm not so sure. I read a little here, and a little there, frequently for class, sometimes serendipity throws books into my lap. Having a job at the parking garage last summer allowed me to read 10,000 pages. A lot of those pages belonged to books that I'm not going to admit to have read. A few of them, I will though. Last summer I read Gore Vidal for the first time, and I'm still thinking about that book (all 500+ pages). I also read Saunder's other story collection (Pastoralia, which I highly recommend), and ZZ Packer's collection (which I had really mixed feelings about). I have a lot of random books on my shelf that look pseudo-impressive, and some books that don't. I love buying books, sometimes I buy by author, sometimes by title, occasionally by cover (the back one, not the...okay sometimes by the front one).
But there's a lot out there that I haven't read. Like Hamlet. I fucking hate Hamlet...can't do it. I've also not read a lot of Faulkner (okay almost no Faulkner) same for Hemingway. I've also not read the novels of Garcia Marquez (despite having loved his short fiction in high school...if you're ever looking for short stories and you're bored, check out Strange Pilgrims by Gabriel Garcia Marquez). The only Joyce I've ever read is Araby. My Woolf oeuvre is pathetic. I still haven't read Jhumpa Lahiri's novel (The Namesake). I haven't read House of the Spirits (Allende). I never made it through Rushdie's Midnight's Children (started it though). I've started Camus's The Plague at least twice, haven't finished it yet. I didn't finish Lolita. I've not read much Henry James. I started a Phillip Roth book once (can't remember which one). I've also not been exposed to a lot of contemporary fiction. The problem with contemporary fiction is that I don't really even know the names to go after.
The other problem is that I was an over-ambitious reader when I was younger. I read Catcher in the Rye when I was twelve. I'm pretty sure that most of the book went over my head because after I finished it, I wondered what the big deal was about. I'm pretty sure I haven't head Jane Eyre in 10 years. I reread most of my Austen library (again, definitely not complete) last year for the first time in almost ten years. I think I read Lolita too young, I was maybe 15 or 16. I know I was too young to really appreciate Arundati Roy's The God of Small Things (again, maybe 14?)-- I got the book, but I didn't really like it. I read Slaughterhouse V when I was maybe 15-- again, a book that went over my head at the time. I'm trying to brainstorm books that I've read and this would be so much easier if I were at my parents house (where the bulk of my books are living).
So, I as I was reading these lists on Angelle's blog, I started thinking about my essential books. Beloved (Toni Morrisson) is definitely on there. I read it the summer before my senior year of high school, and I'm still thinking about it. The Autobiography of Malcolm X changed the way that I saw the world (and it was great fun reading it when I was in Mississippi for three weeks). Daniel Quinn's books gave me one of the biggest head-fucks I've ever had, and I'm still grateful for it. I love the adult fiction of Roald Dahl-- to me he's one of the best story tellers of the 20th century and if none of you have read him, go track down his stories "Royal Jelly" and "The Great Automatic Grammatisator"... hell, get the entire Omnibus, you won't regret it. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera was probably the most phenomenal book I read sophomore year (of college). I know there are other books, but they're slipping my mind. Julie Orringer, if she continues to live in my head, will make this list.
So anyways, now that you've suffered through reading this ill-organized and unaesthetic looking blog entry, I'm charging you, reader, with a task. Tell me what to read. Help me draft a list.
Also, Chelsea, if you become a literary agent, and I make it to that point, will you consider representing me?
Bookmark
I feel really guilty for having not posted since Monday. However, I'm exhausted and putting my thoughts together now isn't going to work well. So I'm going to sleep now and write a good, solid, thought/conversation provoking post in the morning. Or afternoon.
23 April 2007
Because I'm feeling competitive
or something. I just felt like pointing out that I, too, have had over 400 visits, and I think my Malaysia beats your China (which I've already had twice).
19 April 2007
Charles,
Check this out: http://www.mcsweeneys.net
And then think about this:
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/submit/web.html
And then think about this:
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/submit/web.html
18 April 2007
12 April 2007
R.I.P. Kurt Vonnegut, 1922-2007.
(according to Wiki)
(according to Wiki)
On pages 9 and 10 of his book, Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction, Vonnegut stated that there are eight rules for writing a short story.
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things -- reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
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