Breaking Radio Silence!
Hey y'all...I'm sure nobody checks this blog anymore, but by virtue of the fact that it automatically links on Facebook (thanks, Amy!), maybe some of you will check it out again.
That said, I can only tell you that I'm getting ready for a vacation in Hokkaido, the northern-most island of Japan (sweet God almighty, I hope it's cooler than my current locale).
Also, I've been reading a William S. Burroughs anthology, but the guy is just too damn smart for me. This can probably explain why I've started Joyce's Ulysses 4 or 5 times, but I've always let it slide...I love intellectual stuff, but works that exist purely within the realm of intellectualism and theory leave my readin' eyes cold after a while.
Thus, I started Haruki Murakami's first US short story anthology. HOLY SHIT that was exactly what I needed. Here's a guy who has mastered the novel and short story forms to the extent that it makes me feel like a retard (and that's a compliment I will only extend to a few writers), yet I always feel inspired, never alienated, by his works. I just read a story about a married couple who holds up a Tokyo McDonalds for food rather than money, and it's everything I could hope to achieve in my wildest dreams as a "writer." But I'm not discouraged! In fact, I've started an essay about the Beatles and I have an idea for a short story (which is a direct ripoff of Murakami and a certain scene in "Citizen Kane") and I swear to freakin' God I will post both. One of my biggest problems as a short story writer is that I get so enamored with language that it takes my audience out of the story--I pull some "look what I can do with grammar!" bullshit instead of finding a voice that resonates with other people. I'm not saying I can fix it, I'm just saying that I know what to work on.
That said, the Beatles essay is almost done, so that will go up first. In it, I indulge all of my tendencies towards lengthy sentences (I blame Christopher Hitchens, who, if he's not your hero, should be) and indulge in an intricate argument I have no place attempting. But what the hell--Jack Kerouack, as much as I loathe the guy, nailed it when he said you've just gotta sit in front of the typewriter and give it all you've got.
After that, I will attempt to pare down my language and write about....well, something. My next essay is about how 12 Oz. Mouse is one of the most misunderstood TV programs ever (if you're anyone other than Jason Frisbee, I can hear you laughing at me, but fuck it, I've got theories and shit!)
がんばります！
That said, I can only tell you that I'm getting ready for a vacation in Hokkaido, the northern-most island of Japan (sweet God almighty, I hope it's cooler than my current locale).
Also, I've been reading a William S. Burroughs anthology, but the guy is just too damn smart for me. This can probably explain why I've started Joyce's Ulysses 4 or 5 times, but I've always let it slide...I love intellectual stuff, but works that exist purely within the realm of intellectualism and theory leave my readin' eyes cold after a while.
Thus, I started Haruki Murakami's first US short story anthology. HOLY SHIT that was exactly what I needed. Here's a guy who has mastered the novel and short story forms to the extent that it makes me feel like a retard (and that's a compliment I will only extend to a few writers), yet I always feel inspired, never alienated, by his works. I just read a story about a married couple who holds up a Tokyo McDonalds for food rather than money, and it's everything I could hope to achieve in my wildest dreams as a "writer." But I'm not discouraged! In fact, I've started an essay about the Beatles and I have an idea for a short story (which is a direct ripoff of Murakami and a certain scene in "Citizen Kane") and I swear to freakin' God I will post both. One of my biggest problems as a short story writer is that I get so enamored with language that it takes my audience out of the story--I pull some "look what I can do with grammar!" bullshit instead of finding a voice that resonates with other people. I'm not saying I can fix it, I'm just saying that I know what to work on.
That said, the Beatles essay is almost done, so that will go up first. In it, I indulge all of my tendencies towards lengthy sentences (I blame Christopher Hitchens, who, if he's not your hero, should be) and indulge in an intricate argument I have no place attempting. But what the hell--Jack Kerouack, as much as I loathe the guy, nailed it when he said you've just gotta sit in front of the typewriter and give it all you've got.
After that, I will attempt to pare down my language and write about....well, something. My next essay is about how 12 Oz. Mouse is one of the most misunderstood TV programs ever (if you're anyone other than Jason Frisbee, I can hear you laughing at me, but fuck it, I've got theories and shit!)
がんばります！