So. I misjudged how long it would take me to walk 3 miles into Hyde Park this afternoon, and in consequence am here three hours earlier than I needed to be (I thought it would take at LEAST two hours, but no). So here I am. The Hyde Park library. Interesting little place, actually. Scanning their shelves, I realize that there are a lot of authors ( Read more... )

Reading Gatsby for John Sheehy. Love that book. Always did, even in high school. Love it even more this time around. No wonder this book restored Hemingway's faith in the novel as an art form--and if it hadn't, where would American literature be now?
( Faulkner: the Pre-paper Stages )