Tag Archives: Nicholson Baker

SIMENON - The Engagement copy

Mostly unmoved / unmoving

Have been rather ambivalent about updating this blog, as I’ve been largely unmoved in what paltry reading I’ve done this March. In the past couple of weeks, there has been a limping parade of books-that-thought-they-could. I argue that I read them because they were the only ones that called to me, albeit feebly—in a, “Hey, you feeling unreaderly? Feed that dreadful feeling with me!”—from my curiously undemanding-of-late bookshelves. I could also argue that I read these books because I needed to read something—and though I would have loved to have had my soul lifted from my body and shaken willy-nilly, the increasingly-exhausted-with-life Sasha gives herself an awkward pat on the back for getting reading done, at least. Chin up, you. [Continue reading.]

03102013 - The Weekend in Book Acquisitions

03102013: The weekend, in book acquisitions

First thing upon waking up, P. and I headed straight to one of our favorite Booksales, and after that we went to another Booksale; in the hours in between, he hoarded more knick-knacks and I drank my tea and smoked my cigarettes. (Do a riff on this, Sasha: How it’s the best thing to wake up one Sunday to the-man-you’re-mad-for-saying, “Let’s go buy books.” And later, a city or so away, the two of you mostly quiet in starkly lit stores—occasionally raising your head to find the other, to hold up a good find, to grin like the book-mad jackals that you two are.) [Continue reading.]

Hello, from the Glittery Land of Lazy Bloggers

I hereby drag myself out of the muck of the Glittery Land of Lazy Bloggers to publish this post. Although I love this space—after more than a year, still trying to figure out how to wiggle around here, actually—I do hate feeling like blogging is a job, egads and when the thought of attempting to […]

What I’ve Been Reading, October 01 – 10

Hello, all. I’m back. Largely an emotional cripple — have grown a tendency to yell at objects zooming past, a soft spot for all things lint-y, sobs at the drop of a hat, too much talking to self. Well. I’m taking a stab at this blogging thing again. I need the structure, oddly enough. So. […]

“Two truths” from Paul Chowder

Poems do seem to want to announce, over and over, that life’s warm zephyrs are blowing past and the gravestones are just beyond the next rise. Little groupings of gravestones, all leaning and cracked, with a rusty black Victorian fence around them. They’re just over that rise. Poets never want to forget that. And actually […]