Apparently I Like the Ellipsis Today
Via Richard at Soft Skull Press: Book and Beer parings. Finally! And if you drink beer from a helmet I… I mean you… can still hold the book.
Internet: filthy street for mobs to swarm, or shining path of democracy and altruism? Um… find out on the internet as Lee Siegel and Nicholson Baker sample their April 10 debate at the NY Public Library. Lee Siegel spoke this month at The New School about his book, Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob
Goodreads, the socialish bookish site, has an interview with Augusten Burroughs on his new memoir about his father, A Wolf at the Table. I think I read months ago on Burrough’s own site that he is more worried about this one, because it’s “not funny.” It hits shelves on April 29th. When I saw the release date a while back I thought, “thank god school will be almost over and I’ll be able to read it!”
I like the fun trivia on Augusten Burroughs’ author profile on Goodreads (Which of the following book covers were NOT designed by author and graphic artist extraordinaire Chip Kidd?). I must say, Chip Kidd’s cover design on Wolf actually makes me feel anxious and wary. And I have this weird reluctance to reading this book because I don’t want anything else bad to happen to him. I know it’s illogical, but that’s how good a writer he is. I’m afraid, but I can’t wait.
Earlier this year I was at a small party for Chip Kidd celebrating his book The Learners, and it wasn’t until after we arrived that Mike said, “What are you going to do if Augusten Burroughs is here?”
And then, he was there. Augusten. Tall, baseball-capped. The only other guy there in jeans except for my guy.
What did I do?! OMG OMG!!1 Well… I squealed on the inside, held my breath, nibbled a canapé, and did my best to not blush ferociously when he was engaged in conversation just to my left, or a few feet away. I caught Mike’s eye and squealed silently some more. We made secret faces at each other, and that was satisfactory. Ultimately we chatted the longest with a brilliant Broadway writer and his wife… about The Wire. (See, that’s how good The Wire is.)
I declined to weasel my way into an introduction and be that girl. It’s one thing to be a fan at a reading, another in someone’s home. What would I possibly gush, psycho fan style?
A. “Hi! Your heart and brain destroy me!”
B. “OMG we’re practically related!”
C. “Can I lick your skull?! I knew you’d wear a hat! *snniiiiiiiiff*”
Yeah, best to leave it for the future, though a more mutually reassuring situation such as we had could not be found except at a table for four. Still, feels good to speak of a rare time dignity won out over my dribbling idiot passions.
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