Need me some books and Requited Journal
Perhaps it’s the oppressive daily double-digit heat that’s kept me so quiet lately. Or that I just can’t seem to get into anything that I’m reading. I ended up returning Bellow’s Herzog unfinished, and I picked up Hilary Thayer Hamann’s Anthropology of an American Girl and Denis Johnson’s Tree of Smoke. The former I heartily disrecommend that anyone ever read (it’s boring, for one thing, and too long, for another, and the female protag is flat, self-absorbed, and prefers foisting blame onto her every boyfriend instead of taking responsibility for her own damn life), and the latter, while it started out wonderful enough, started to drag about halfway through. It was sort of The Things They Carried meets Catch-22, but not as poignant or as funny as either one. I was a little heartbroken because I love Johnson so much, but when I checked out Umberto Eco’s The Island of the Day Before and found myself slogging through yet again (is this a philosophical treatise or a novel?!), I realized it has nothing to do with the books and everything to do with me. It’s 105 degrees. I’m pregnant. Feel free to disregard most everything I say for the next few months.
That said, check out my new tiny piece of fiction over at the always fantastic Requited Journal!
Now I’m headed over to Powell’s Books to spend some gift cards I received for my birthday. There’s a book just waiting for me to fall in love, and I’m going to find it or die trying (it’s that important).