Sarah's Books - Used & Rare

The hurricane took a right turn a few hours ago over toward Nova Scotia and is only going to glance our way, with rain and maybe 30-40 mph winds tonight. The tarps should hold. Knock on wood. We're staying up late just to be sure.

I re-read much of David Foster Wallace's Brief Interviews with Hideous Men last night and remembered how much I intensely dislike many of the stories found therein. Regarding the subject matter, not the telling. I'm a modest person, and my face turns red if I read certain kinds of things, even if no one else is around. Well, as readers we don't get to pick and choose what our favorite authors want to write about, or are compelled to write about, do we. We have to take what they give us, and try to understand why they are telling us what they are telling us. I read on, red-faced.

I also re-read his short story Good Old Neon. I first came across it in The O. Henry Prize Stories 2002 and hadn't forgotten it six years later. Still so good I wanted to cry.

So many true geniuses died early - Jack London, van Gogh, etc - after tremendous creative output in a relatively short time, and truly unique manifestations of their inner workings. But no getting maudlin, now. Plenty of geniuses live long and healthy lives. Must get back to tarp duty.

Hurricane Kyle approaches the Maine coast. I'm worried. Long story short, see visual aid:

The south side of our house. Notice that odd little dormer window in the roof? Well, when we bought the house it leaked a wee bit, and had rotted somewhat, and we vowed to replace it with a wider dormer with a peaked roof to fit the style of the house. Fast forward to this week. Attic renovation is under way. Wonderful carpenter has been working all week under clear sunny skies. The rotten dormer is gone. In its place is the framework for the new one, and half a roof. And many tarps nailed down. Over a big hole. In the roof. Just to be clear. Hurricane Kyle is due tomorrow afternoon. We are standing by with buckets and towels and more tarps. Tomorrow night - rain and high winds and not much chance of sleep in the forecast.

By the way, the book collection (most of it) is located on the other side of the house. Away from the big hole in the roof. Just thought I'd mention that.

Hurricane worries, while I'm already feeling anxious about this artist-in-residence program - I may implode. I leave on October 1st, and will spend the entire month there, painting, away from my beloveds (husband, cat, house, State of Maine, etc). I'm assembling art supplies, books (can't NOT bring any books along), clothes, food, in a big pile in the dining room. Actually, I can't wait to go, I've been anticipating it for a long time and hope I will do some good work there. Just need to get through the hurricane first.

In that list just now, I find I mentioned books before clothing and food... yes, must pack the necessities first!

I've been away for a week, and didn't hear the news about David Foster Wallace before I left. Found out today, upon return, and feel absolutely sick over it. Nothing else to say, really. Except the best, most loving tributes are of course here.