Busy busy busy busy week. Busy. Week. I'm covering for someone who is on vacation and it keeps me, well, busy. And away from a computer. And when I'm actually near a computer we've been busy with patrons. Though I'll be sad when school starts as it signifies the beginning of the end of summer, I cannot wait for the urchins to go back. Oy.
I finished reading "A Moveable Feast." Good stuff. Dang me if I didn't spend all these years hating something based on one horrible experience. I used to hate his prose--too sparse with dialogue, too detailed with seemingly mundane descriptions--and I used to hate the whole expat thing. They all seemed so smug over there living it up, drinking wine all day, going to festas, talking about art and writing and just having the kind of life I always wish I could afford. What a freaking moron I've been. Post WWI, the almighty American dollar was king. Everyone was broke, but their money just went further. Plus most of them were either insane or alcoholics which sort of lessens the romance of the whole thing. Still, I've finally gotten to the point I can appreciate Hemingway's writing. It's been a long trip. Many thanks should go out to Roel and Randy for reintroducing me properly to the man.
I've got a big old stack of books I wandered around and plucked off the shelves for the weekend at the G&T (where I'm fairly confident I won't actually read all that much, but if I don't bring anything all I'll want to do is read): some essays and poetry by Pound, "Tender is the Night",(clearly I've been influenced by my last reading material), some Henry Miller nonfiction, and "A Changed Man" by Francine Prose...a modern novel I've always meant to read, but never got around to.
I've been writing a lot lately. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it seems as though Berghoef has decided we're engaged in a poem-off. Poem for poem I think I'm ahead, but actual usable work and days-of-writing I think he wins. It's been pretty good stuff. I recently compiled the whole business on google documents and discovered I had 20 "finished" poems. Huh. 20. I'm not sure if I was expecting more or less. Regardless, I have a stack of stuff that still needs titles and editing and all of that rot. I've been threatening for awhile, but I think I'm ready to submit to some online journals.
You all will be the first to know as soon as the rejections start pouring in.
So yeah, the G&T this weekend. Grilled pizza, cute dogs, campfires, lazy afternoons floating down the river, excellent conversation, and a keg of Founders.
I'm ready to go right now.
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