I read Dave Barry's Big Trouble
today. Too Hiiasen. I can't spell Hiiasen and I don't care enough to look it up. I've read a few of his books and I don't like them. And sure, Barry is, of course, funnier than you, but ohmygosh the plot. +bangs head on the wall+ The plot! Oh, the woe! I think I'm reading some of his other books (just because my life sucks so I sit around and read, lalalala) but I'll try to find the columns published first. And speaking of columnists who have books you need to read, I highly recommend Lewis Grizzard. Hilarious.
I've been listening to Matchbox 20 all day in one way or another. Someone had a shirt this morning that said Crutch so I went around singing Crutch all day. And then came home and popped in Mad Season. Yummay. It's vaguely reminiscent of little things. Vaguely reminiscent's a nice phrase.
I started a piece for the infalliable Suus enchantress_cat
to console her about having to go to a family party...and it's been three days. You don't know me and stories. Three days is like, novel-length time in my book. I could have gazillions of things written in three days. It's 2700 words and it should have been done ages ago. It's vaguely surrealistic and wants to drag out forever. On my back with some dirty dishes. Crazy piano music is playing overhead as I look for my seat, next to an insubstantial shadow wearing pink reflective aviators. The woman in front of me is an old lady in a floral jumpsuit who starts rattling on about train peanuts as the engine fires up and the wheels start turning. Most of my compartment lapses into silence, and after a while even the floral jumpsuit trails off. I don’t have a windowseat but I can see through the shadow and for a while I just watch the city lights bounce off the river until they disappear.
and it keeps rambling in this fine tradition for, oh, four pages or so. This is a monster of a story. At least to me.
And since my life is boring and all my friends have more exciting things to do, I'm going to keep reading books obsessively--next on the list is Neverwhere
, and then The Joy Luck Club
before I have to hit the library again--and writing. I almost have blackballoon
's notebook finished, and I'm going to start one to my precious RYE im_rye_godamnit
that will be a composition book decorated with lurfly bumper stickers and ribbon and things. GORGY.
And maybe Jaime Saturday. Who knows. This is a surprisingly coherent journal entry.
And while on the subject...anyone want to recommend me any books? Charlotte, I know you're supposed to have a list for me, and there's a short story collection by Gaiman I have to dig up, but anyone else want to throw titles at me?