One of the best things about having a local book store is wandering in to browse the shelves for interesting finds. Dear Fahrenheit 451, by Annie Spence, caught my eye on a recent visit and I had to bring it home. The cover proclaims it “A Librarian’s Love Letters and Breakup Notes to the Books […]
After publishing The Insistence of Memory, I can’t count the number of people who have told me some variation of “I always wanted to be a writer.” My natural reaction to confessions like that is something like “Cool, what have you written?” The answer to that question varies, but most often it’s along the lines of
I was raised to believe that it’s wrong to “invite yourself” to do something with others. As a rule, it’s rude to be an imposition or intrude on others. Often that’s true… but, as with any rule, there are exceptions. Sometimes it’s okay to ask if you can join in. If friends are talking about
I’m currently rereading Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut. It’s one of my favorite books, though it’s been a few years since I read it last and I had sort of forgotten how much I enjoy it. If you haven’t read Player Piano, it’s a book that has managed to become both outdated and relevant to
While I had high hopes for 2018, the year hasn’t gotten off to the greatest start. It’s almost the end of March, yet I’ve hardly posted here at all. I’m behind schedule on my next book and struggling to keep up with things like exercise, bookkeeping, and laundry. (How is there always so much #$%ing
