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My "Fiction Written During My Lifetime" shelf - not kidding! The one below (not pictured) is pre-1983 novels.

About a month ago, my friend Beca posted a link to this article asking men who only read male writers to branch out. There were a couple of comments on Beca's post from men asking who to start with in terms of female writers -- indeed there are men who steer clear of 'women writers' because of general and generic connotations or stereotypes. I myself have heard some offhand comments from guys stating they just don't read female writers.

I think what irks me the most is that female writers as a whole being written off because they are grouped together as if they are all the same. As if the bleak, compact prose of Joan Didion is anything like the colorful, culture-straddling observations of Jhumpa Lahiri. I love them both, but not because they're women. Because they write well and like most books I read, I want to invigorate myself with a perspective I don't know or necessarily think about all the time. I enjoy escaping into my books every day.

Some of my favorite novels are by men; I don't judge a book based on the gender of who wrote it. I want all of the stories! Also, I may be the last person on earth who hasn't read J.K. Rowling. To each their own... but I do think there's something off about closing yourself off to an author because of gender.

The author of the post, Alanna Okun, wrote:

But it is a real waste to spend a lifetime never reading too far outside yourself. It’s shortsighted and limited to think that sticking to a single swath of perspective, one canon of many, won’t stunt your ability to be a thoughtful, open person in the world. It does a disservice to everyone involved, from the authors whose voices are never heard to the readers who never have the chance to hear them to the vast populations on this planet who still have to explain the very basics of their experience to those who haven’t ever stopped to consider them.

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I read this article in the middle of reading Kate Atkinson's book Life After Life - and recommending it to nearly everybody who would listen! Here's how I recommended the interesting structure of the book in my review --

I've explained it simply by telling them what happens in the first two chapters: a baby is born in England on a snowy day in 1910 but dies because it choked. In the next chapter, that same baby is born in England on a snowy day in 1910 and the doctor arrives in time amidst the snowstorm to snip the cord choking the baby. The baby lives.

It's definitely one of my favorite books I've read this year! I'm not sure if there is anybody reading here that realizes they don't read a lot of female-authored books, but in case you need some more recommendations here's a few other greats I've read this year:

The Night Gwen Stacy Died by Sarah Bruni (surreal, nerdy)
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (a retelling of the Greek myth)
Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple (hilarious, endearing)
The Liar's Club by Mary Karr (non-fiction recommended by Stephen King while I read his On Writing)

I should note that two of these above were personally recommended to me by my friend Adam, a guy who definitely doesn't let gender dictate what he reads.

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Right now I'm in the midst of Jhumpa Lahriri's latest The Lowland about two brothers in India during the '70s. Simultaneously, I'm reading a book I received yesterday that's more 'interactive.' My friend Rick recommended it to me because we both love J.J. Abrams, and he created the novel, along with Doug Dorst. The interactivity reminds me a bit of House of Leaves, but I'm not sure it's supposed to be frightening like that novel. The book is called S, but the novel inside is called Ship of Theseus. I started it last night, and it took about an hour to get through ten pages with all the notes in the margins between two characters and the letters and notes between pages. I'd describe the super heavy book more, but perhaps only photos will work to show off this production:

That's a napkin.

I usually read on my commute, but this one I'll have to strictly read at the poker table (that's a fact: Jesse bought a dining table that doubles as a poker table) lest the inserts fly out. It's a mystery unfolding, and I'm completely enthralled. I'm considering pushing off the plans I made tonight in order to stay in and continue reading this...

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I also learned this morning, true to the theme of this post, that Jesse's best friend, one of the best men in our wedding, has his book available for pre-order now. Jesse met Brian Diaz when they were on tour, and I'm sure Jesse will find many of those memories documented in this non-fiction book filled with tales from the touring life. Diaz talked about it here and there when we hung out in the past few months (sporadically, given how much he is on the road!). It's called 1800 Miles to Nowhere: Two Decades Of Life on the Road and it's available for pre-sale HERE. I will definitely be reading!

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Sidenote: here's a picture of Pee Wee enjoying the time with me on the couch last night while I ate dinner. He models the great Red Sox blanket made for us by my future sister-in-law! He likes to watch tv, too.

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Any book recommendations for me?

I sent it via pantomime.

I suppose the overall point of this place is to write about my life. Even when not much happens. Can I write it in a way to make it at all interesting? Worth a go, I suppose. The past three days? Let me report: things have been extremely busy at work.

But also.

On Monday I found myself drinking coffee at 3pm. This happens after spending Sunday watching two high-stakes football games with friends and clinking beer bottles together in good cheer...and then watching the entirety of the Golden Globes. Lethargy can be genuinely tiring, I've concluded.

I had to stay a bit late on at work, and Jesse went off to meet some friends for 'all you can eat' BBQ. Since I usually can't eat much more than one helping and I despise coming home smelling like a restaurant, I decided to spend the evening catching up on American Horror Story. It was a good choice.

Jesse came home smelling like fragrant meat, and I crawled into bed with Pee Wee for a good night's sleep. Unfortunately Jesse also crawled in bed, smelling as he did, and proceeded to complain about how full he was and how he ate far too much. Go figure, more reasons to dislike all you can eat BBQ. And you never know what his full beard might bring home, either.

Last night I also had to work late, and when I came home Jesse and I went to our favorite local restaurant for dinner. We're regulars and we love it. To demonstrate my earlier professed aversion to smelling like restaurants, when we go to this restaurant (which has become more fragrant since they remodeled a few months ago) I wear my 'old' winter coat instead of my 'new' beloved winter coat. Because smelling like food the next day on my way to work makes me feel like barfing.

Still with me?

We watched The Mindy Project which is probably my favorite new sitcom of the season. Jesse even admits he enjoyed it, too. Pee Wee's opinion is unknown.

Today I had about five bajillion meetings (estimated figure) and though I've been trying to figure out a good time to see Lincoln or Flight, I knew Jesse had his heart on seeing Django Unchained. He hasn't seen it yet because when I bought my ticket to see it a few weeks ago as part of a Les Miserables double feature, Jesse joined for the later movie and it was by then sold out. So I conceded to see it again, because it's a good flick.

I liked it just as well the second time around, but I noticed the jarring editing and oddities even more than the first time. However, I didn't cover my eyes as much during the violent parts. Great performances like Christoph Waltz's were great to relish in again. Still a good movie, just not great. I think Inglourious Basterds may be Quentin Tarantino's best. Or Pulp Fiction. Those two, at the very least, are better than Django.

One of my favorite things to do is watch a movie I've seen with a person who has not seen it, though. I like knowing what's about to come and seeing if the other person will react to it in a similar way. 'Jesse will laugh out loud at this part,' I thought.

We just got home a half hour ago, caught Jessica Chastain on The Daily Show, and now I sit here writing with Pee Wee on my lap. I'll press 'publish' and then head up to bed to read more of Gillian Flynn's Dark Places before I fall asleep.

Oh, and I'll insert some cool art on this here post and call it a day.


Photos by artist Laurent Chehere for his series Flying Houses.

My woes are granular.

We be writin'.

Everything I got in my cabinet brain.

Drinking tea, also part of my prescription.

I'm on day three of antibiotics, and the good news is that the supposed superinfection seems to have abated the pressure in one of my ears. The other ear, not so much.

The bad news is that I cannot visit my family this weekend since the stress of traveling and a party wouldn't be too conducive to the whole 'relaxing' thing I'm supposed to try. It's quite a sad day since a small group of my family from Panama just flew in to stay for the month. I'm bummed I won't be there this weekend, but I will definitely see them when they visit New York later in the month, and hopefully I can get another weekend home.

Still, sadface.

And also, Sickface.

Last night, in keeping with my prescription, my friend Amber came over and we watched The Loneliest Planet which was just added to Netflix Instant. It starts out with a shot that immediately begs about ten questions, and then it's all lush landscapes and eeriness and two or three moments. It's a meditative movie, and one that makes you think afterwards--maybe about relationships or trust or the meaning of being alone. It was okay; beautifully directed, but almost too restrained to fill two hours.

 

There have been a lot of movies I've wanted to see added to Netflix Instant (Oslo August 31st, Take This Waltz, etc.), coupled that with the handful of movies I got for Christmas, and you can probably guess what I'll be doing this weekend. Also, I'll probably finally post about my 2012 in books and film!

Funny story about my desk at home (where I write most of these posts, and where I'm pictured above, last night) -- for some reason my cat Pee Wee just loves to sit in my lap while I do computer stuff. It's real weird. He sits on my lap at other times, but as soon as I'm in my desk chair he scurries over and then jumps right up and usually I have to hold up either his butt or his chin to his comfort (he's a bit spoiled). So here he is last night:

He makes me feel like an evil genius while I read the internet.

He got so mad when I kicked him out so I could type this up! That is all. Here's to Friday and a full recovery this weekend, hopefully!