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.