It feels good to consolidate. There is a lot to do in the spring because it is the time to sow, so that in the fall I can reap. I am reading new additions to classic literature: Ham On Rye finally and The Savage Detectives, both of which are engaging narratives. I especially appreciate the sex in the beginning of the Bolano. I don’t know how to add the tilda to the n, but for those who aren’t familiar with his work, that is how you pronounce his name, with a tilda or to those who don’t know Spanish, the squiggly line that goes over n’s, over the n.
I have eight pages of The Unnamable left. It is interesting. The narrator’s ability to talk to himself about himself is very much like what I intend to do in Hot Love On The Wing, but Becket’s work is stripped of all narrative. And it can seem repetitive, though the prose is crystalline like a forest stream. It burbles. Good word, that – burble. Anyway.
It is Friday night and I suppose there will be socializing for me. Unless no one calls me and I decide to not go out and be reclusive and work and read and write. Which would be productive, but which also could lead to a lack of moderation if I go out tomorrow or Sunday or Monday, since I have a four day weekend. #Happy.