There are blogs and then there are blogs. Neal Pollack comes to mind, but he is not the only one. Not the only REAL writer infiltrating this wasp’s nest of pathetically ill-equipped amateurs pretending to be literary somebodies.
Actually, what really comes to mind when I read this great stuff, is all the other great stuff that has suddenly disappeared. How much blogging is actually already lost? Sure, some of it is garbage, some of it we could do without, really, but how much GOOD, clean, courageous writing is pixel-dust, swept under the rug and gone, lost to unpaid hosting fees, or neglect, or disinterest? (I had to delete black robot from my blogs link because it’s been gone for some time now… I can’t remember what it was like, or why I liked it, but I must have at least once thought it was good, or funny, or something.)
I got my copy of Jeff Noon’s newly released book yesterday. I’m on page 24, even though I actually stayed up to read (the book that is Nate’s Christmas present) until 2 AM instead. I’m almost done with that (book that is Nate’s Christmas present), so I’ll probably start Noon’s book in earnest tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. I have so much to read, and so little time.
In other news: I’m having a housewarming party.
I know, I moved into my house months ago. It’s true. We are slackers extraordinaire. If you read this, and were not invited for some strange reason, send me an email, and I’ll add you to the evite. I love evite, BTW.
Now I must grease the cogs, and begin to turn the crank.