Today is a migrainey day (again), so I'm taking it easy and being an enabler. I'll tell you about some of the newest items on my Amazon wishlist.
The Kindle. I have a serious case of gadget lust since April posted about hers at Estella's Revenge. Another bookish friend shouted the wonders of yon Kindle in a discussion group, and now I can hardly contain myself. Too bad I don't have $399 to throw around at the moment. I hope beyond hope that the price falls a bit in the near future and I can snatch one up. The books are cheaper, I'll be killing fewer trees with my bookish obsession, and that little puppy is way portable. Good plane reading, anyone? I'll probably be traveling to TX during the summer at some point, and I have a conference in San Antonio in November. Just think of all the books I could hoard in one little gadget! The mere thought makes me quake.
*use imagination to insert cover of Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2007 here*
Yeah, Blogger is being putzy. Anywho, I first saw the Nonrequired Reading 2007 in Books-a-Million recently, and what an intriguing idea! I'm a sucker for the yearly "Best ofs" anyway (short stories, essays, comics, etc., etc.) and what's better to a moody, finicky, noncommital reader than a collection of NONREQUIRED READING?! Not much, I can tell you that fo 'sho.
*use imagination to insert cover of A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You here*
In my neverending search for quality short stories, I ran upon Amy Bloom. Well, I ran upon her name, really. I haven't read any of her stuff yet, but everywhere I go that mentions really good short story writers mentions her. The blurb from Amazon to describe Blind Man:
*use imagination to insert cover of Artists in Exile, by Joseph Horowitz here*
It was Henry James who first claimed the imagination of disaster, but in Amy Bloom's stunning second collection, she appears to have inherited the mantle. Most of the characters in A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You are pursued by at least one of the biological furies: cancer, miscarriage, Parkinson's disease. And even those with their health intact tend to be sick at heart, having run the gantlet of family life and suffered what the military men like to call friendly fire. Yet the effect of these brilliant stories is anything but dreary. Instead they produce an odd sense of elation--Bloom somehow persuades us that her characters will continue under their own steam long after we've closed the book, and she alternates hope and hopelessness in exactly the right, recognizable proportions.
This is a little goody I spotted in the NY Times Book Review a week or so ago. I've always been interested in artists' and performers' lives, and this book chronicles the "intellectual migrations" of thousands of artists and thinkers from Europe to the U.S. in the early 20th century. Some notable names: Billy Wilder, Fritz Lang, and Marlene Dietrich just to name a few.
So, tell me you wonderful enablers. What are you lusting after?
I've had about all I can stand of the slow writing center computer, so I'm going to finish The End of America (thoughts coming) and grade some tests. Yeehaw!