I really, really love books. Here’s a post on Nothing Spaces about one I really want to have. It’s from the folks that brought us JSF’s Tree of Codes. It’s called Composition No. 1 and was written by Marc Saporta. It was first published in the ’60s.
Oh, and did I mention that you could read it in any order?
So, this totally made my day.
I love books, and I love getting email, but both of them together? Just, too much.
These people publish books. In London. I am refraining from replying with: “Please. Let me work for you.”
I think I’ve forgotten how to write, but Jennifer Egan’s “A Visit From the Goon Squad” makes me want to remember.
I don’t know if any of you know, but:
- I have always wanted to be a writer.
- I am not very happy with my body of work, so far.
- I don’t think I have ever really tried hard enough.
A better look at our books! There were two covers, a red/neon pink version and a blue/gold version. There are only 29 editions in all! 4 are on their way back to Berlin.
P.S. Nothing Spaces is back up! For now, anyway. I really don’t know what is going on, but I’m sorry about all of this. I really hate the situation, but I’m too dumb to fix it myself.
Guys, guys. We made books last weekend.
Maybe all wondrous books appear in our lives the way Milo’s tollbooth appears, an inexplicable gift, cast up by some curious chance that comes to feel, after we have finished and fallen in love with the book, like the workings of a secret purpose. Of all the enchantments of beloved books the most mysterious—the most phantasmal—is the way they always seem to come our way precisely when we need them.
My sister is the sweetest thing in the world.
I woke up to a tagged photo on Facebook, captioned: “Look what I got for you!” She was going to surprise me, but couldn’t remember what my favorite book was, so she had to ask me a lot. I honestly didn’t think she would end up getting it for me (she had gotten me other things like tea, besides) because she really doesn’t care much for books, and you know, there’s so much of her own fun to be had. I mean, she’s in Munich!
But agh. Look at this. She’s only been away for half a week, and she is already accumulating awesome sister points. I mean, who does this!
I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody.
Anonymous blog comments, vapid video pranks, and lightweight mashups may seem trivial and harmless, but as a whole, this widespread practice of fragmentary, interpersonal communication has demeaned interpersonal interaction.
Communication is now often experienced as a superhuman phenomena that towers above individuals. A new generation has come of age with a reduced expectation of what a person can be, and of who each person might become.
In which Jack Gilbert and Shane Jones help me out of February. I’ve been joking a lot about how I suck at getting timing right, and this time, I think I might have gotten lucky.
Jack Gilbert’s Refusing Heaven brought me to the place where I needed to be, to be okay, and this will always make me marvel at how seemingly orchestrated the world is sometimes.
"Our spirit persists like a man struggling
through the frozen valley
who suddenly smells flowers
and realizes the snow is melting
out of sight on top of the mountain,
knows that spring has begun.”
— Horses at Midnight Without a Moon, Jack Gilbert
… you may in fact be reading these words on a digital e-book reader, or a super-intelligent telephone, or a beam of pink light that implants short stories and medical advice directly in your brain. The future will be full of crazy stuff like that! I would never discriminate against your preferred book-input port. Please just know that there was once a time when people made books with their hands, out of paper and ink, and handed them directly to one another, and read them with their eyes, and held them to their hearts. It was sweet.