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mallorys_cameraIt’s still grey and dreary and the house is filthy as ever, but I’m perfectly happy today – go figure.
I have an enormous backload of gee-I-need-to-do-this-or-the-rent-won’t-get-paid type scut work and should line up someone to hang out with this evening. Finishing up Dennis Lehane’s Moonlight Mile, the eh sequel to his very fine Gone, Baby, Gone; about to begin Selina Hastings’ biography of W. Somerset Maugham.
Maugham fell out of literary vogue long ago, I suppose because he’s so closely associated with British colonialism. But he’s a very fine story teller. You can learn a lot about how to structure fiction by reading Maugham.
Oh, and the tsunami is poised to take out the site of what was once the Little Store later this afternoon. Haven’t decided what if anything I feel about that. One of the reasons I’m such an obsessive journal keeper is that in general I have a very bad memory. Oh, every once in a while I’ll be hit by the psycho-sensory equivalent of a tsunami, a scene from my life – usually some throw away moment – rendered in precise, eidetic detail. But for the most part once it’s not happening anymore, it doesn’t exist. So I barely even remember the Little Store! I once ran a temple devoted to chili peppers and hot sauce? How bizarre!
I have an enormous backload of gee-I-need-to-do-this-or-the-rent-won’t-get-paid type scut work and should line up someone to hang out with this evening. Finishing up Dennis Lehane’s Moonlight Mile, the eh sequel to his very fine Gone, Baby, Gone; about to begin Selina Hastings’ biography of W. Somerset Maugham.
Maugham fell out of literary vogue long ago, I suppose because he’s so closely associated with British colonialism. But he’s a very fine story teller. You can learn a lot about how to structure fiction by reading Maugham.
Oh, and the tsunami is poised to take out the site of what was once the Little Store later this afternoon. Haven’t decided what if anything I feel about that. One of the reasons I’m such an obsessive journal keeper is that in general I have a very bad memory. Oh, every once in a while I’ll be hit by the psycho-sensory equivalent of a tsunami, a scene from my life – usually some throw away moment – rendered in precise, eidetic detail. But for the most part once it’s not happening anymore, it doesn’t exist. So I barely even remember the Little Store! I once ran a temple devoted to chili peppers and hot sauce? How bizarre!
