The Kirkwood Experience

Some mornings I wake up to a WWII Howitzer going off and vibrating my bed. This place is called Animal House and it's earned the name. I've been here a week and two windows have been broken. The veterans here tell me it hasn't even begun, and that scares me a little. It's strange that football comes on at 10am here, and everybody says "Hella," but it's home for now. The bed is comfortable and the people are mostly kind. But I miss Sultan's Market and the Gallery Cabaret.

The difference between lie and lay

Man oh man. Shit tons of reading being done. Beginning to worry if my eyes can handle it. No long forming complete sentences. Picked up Desert by J. M. G. Le Clezio, and so far it's pretty good. Been keeping a solid rate of about 1,200 words per day. More excited every day about the move to California. Less excited every day about breathing kids' farts and selling toys. I guess this is what I've heard-tell is "optimism." I hope that doesn't mean I need glasses.

Issue #1 Now Available!

It's Alive! Inkshed Magazine's debut issue has now been printed and spray painted. I'm startled by the greatness it contains, including some wonderfully bizarre illustrations. You can buy the first copy at the Inkshed blog, and I suggest you do so immediately.

I wish Staind didn't suck so much

I guess it's been a while since I've updated this. I'll chalk that up to an insane amount of reading and the pain in the ass of trying to finish the debut issue of Inkshed Magazine. Only a week left until its release. Also ran into some problems with viruses that made me serious question the motives one must have to want to fuck another over so royally yet in such a cowardly way. But I'm up and running again with Ubuntu, and it's working somewhat okay. Also got my first film credit recently for lighting in Andreas's trailer for David Peak's new novel, which everybody should buy, read, repeat.

Excited about Story Week coming up, especially to get my copy of them signed by Joyce Carol Oates. It should be pretty amazing. Also, of course, Bonnie Jo Campbell will be there and her collection American Salvage is infective.

Caught

Heard the news that J. D. Salinger died today at the ripe old age of 91. I'm sure there are many in the world that didn't even know he was still alive given his infamous isolation. I was probably about fourteen or fifteen when I read Catcher in the Rye and loved it. Read it since then and felt less than enthusiastic. Aside from his landmark work, he was truly a writer of genius. Much more interesting than Holden Caulfield were the members of the Glass family. A fiction tutor I had once read "A Good Day for Bananafish" during our first session and upon completion of the semester, she gave me a copy of Nine Stories. That sent me rolling through the other published works and just over a week ago I finished Raise High the Roofbeam Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction. I joked and said I felt a form of depression without having any of his works left to read until he died, which I assumed would be a couple years off. Then I heard the news today and felt at first, sadness, and later anxiety about how his estate will handle his work, about forty years of it that has never seen the light of day.

He did more than any other writer for his contract with a big, evil New York publisher. I once heard that he even took paint chips in to show the exact shade of white he wanted on the cover. He also made sure that none of his characters would ever be depicted, at least until the copyright laws expire. I just hope I'm gone by the time the put the film version of Catcher in theaters.

Readathon

The Great Chicago Read-o-rama is drawing to a close. While I'm probably the only one who refers to it by this title, I know the first few weeks of January keep a lot of people in the warmth of their homes and flipping some pages instead of the facing the ungodly frigidity of Chicago. So far since December I've knocked out:
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce
The Favorite Game by Leonard Cohen (yes, that one)
The World According to Garp by John Irving
Let the Dog Drive by David Bowman
Where You Once Belonged by Kent Haruf
High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
and intend on finishing Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: an Introduction by J.D. Salinger by the end of the week. I don't think that's a bad little list at all, and yes, I am bragging about it.

The World According to Me

I suppose that would be a better title for a blog. Just finished reading The World According to Garp, and found it to be an absolutely inspiring story. Wonderfully poignant and disturbing while keeping away from being labeled as sensationalism. It's awakened in me that long dormant desire to create. There is still a stack of books eager to be read in the next two weeks that I really should get to.