Everybody dance now
I’ve become marginally obsessed with the 33 1/3 series, despite the fact that none of their authors seem to be headed to Los Angeles. People, I’m here for you. So…
I’ve become marginally obsessed with the 33 1/3 series, despite the fact that none of their authors seem to be headed to Los Angeles. People, I’m here for you. So…
The hardworking Dan Wickett is at it again, this time presenting a panel of scruffy, ne’er do well litbloggers. I’m in there someplace, along with Levi Asher of Litkicks Darby…
Laura Albert was found to have defrauded the film company that optioned J.T. Leroy’s novel “Sarah.” There was no Leroy, of course, just Savannah Knoop in a wig and Laura…
James Joyce for the summer – give Ulysses a listen. Here’s a portrait of The Mupsimus as a young man. Largehearted boy has got a playlist from Min Jin Lee,…
Maybe you’ve been hearing a lot about On Chesil Beach, the new shortish novel from Ian McEwan. Me, I queued up for a copy at BEA — to be signed…
Tell me, NY Times Book Review: can flourescent lighting really be “Dickensian”? That’s about as logical as calling Marilyn Manson Nabakovian.
Just when I thought I’d been getting serious work done, Carrie goes and and starts memorizing Paradise Lost. John Fox has read and reviewed Divisadero, and I haven’t yet gotten…
From temporary paperhaus HQ in Seattle: If bloggers are ignorant blowhards, so was Steinbeck. Paris gets sent back to jail, and my one-time boss has to tell the media. Contrary…
Howard Junker+Ed Champion+San Francisco=PBR. When it comes to books, buy local. I guess the same goes for beer. Book sellers become book burners: Tod Goldberg has found the fucktards of…
Speaking of colonial America, LA writer Charles Rappleye’s book Sons of Providence on the slave-trading slash abolitionist Brown brothers — founders of Brown University — has just won the George…