Woke up and ran a little fartlek on the treadmill:
2 minute bursts…10-11.6 mph. (6 min mile to 5:10 min mile pace)
Felt pretty solid, decent flow.
Kim Chinquee keeps changing the photo on her blog. This one has an Andy Warhol, 80’s album cover feel. Kind of retro yet able to enjoy a glass of wine.
I thought her recent No Colony piece was one of her edgier.
Joyce Richardson had a nice family text in Six Little Things.
Reminds of the Eastern European saying: “At least my neighbor’s cow is dead, too.”
I am heading to Chicago.
Listened to Bill Barich speak a few days ago, here at good ol’ BSU. He’s been in Ireland for 8 years, but is now working on a new book, a homage to Steinbeck’s Travels With Charley. Barich is likewise driving across America, though I believe he’s taking along less bourbon than Steinbeck packed into the little pop-up camper.
Barich is a thoughtful, soft-spoken guy with a trove of witty and knowledgeable New Yorker stories and writerly stories and types of stories told around a couple dank beers.
Instead of re-telling these stories, I want to actually focus on the soft-spoken nature of his talk. We were in a small room, with students, so there was some murmuring in the back, and naturally a cell phone rang several times. And his stories developed slowly, the pacing gradually building to the point, or climax, of the narrative. He sort of rolled them out there…the exact type of pacing you would expect from a serious essayist. And was the narrative pacing a result of his years in Ireland? Of a storytelling culture?
This is all conjecture…
It made me think about his essays, or longer, more developed essays in general; and how maybe the audience of today is somehow geared to LOUD, and QUICK, and 1500 words only please!
Even the New Yorker has started (the last few years) to shorten and shorten their essays, and of course Rolling Stone did a whole makeover to shorter, brighter nonfiction. Don’t even get me started on Rolling Stone, once a music magazine. Once. But to my point, would they publish some of Hunter S’s ramblings now? Or edit them into snapshots with a glossy photo of a dew-dropped Budweiser?
Then maybe I’m old.
But something is changing…
““There is no such thing as bad whiskey. Some whiskeys just happen to
be better than others.” —Faulkner
I used to have a rat terrier. It bit any dog within reach. It bit people. If off its leash, it would run for miles away and never return. Years ago, it ate a twenty dollar bill and all of my girlfriend’s underwear. It was a bad, bad dog.
possibly missed, a little…