1. Isn’t this the sweetest little house? It looks like a place where Atticus, Jem and Scout could live, where you could run a stick along the picket fence, or sit on the front porch and wait for Truman Capote — I mean Dill — to come over.
2. Finally finished LET THE GREAT WORLD SPIN. I came across one paragraph (on page 248) which, in my humble view, encapsulates what it’s all about: “[Judge] Soderberg wasn’t one to sit around and decry what used to be. The city was bigger than its buildings, bigger than its inhabitants too. It had its own nuances. It accepted whatever came its way, the crime and the violence and the little shocks of good that crawled out from underneath the everyday.”
3. Don’t listen to me, though. I’m not big on stories about New York, the center of the universe. A silly hang up, I know, but there it is. But Colum McCann, you are a brilliant writer, you are, lyrical and passionate, and I will give your next book a try if it’s set somewhere else.
4. I strolled into our soon-to-be-closing-Borders to rape and pillage the place, but there were so many red and yellow 20% and 40% off signs you could hardly see anything else. It was dead in there. Maddening. So maddening I didn’t even buy a book. Not one. How sad is that?
5. One of the most heartbreaking scenes in a movie is the final montage in PHILADELPHIA. Black and white film / Andrew Beckett as an innocent, sweet, little boy, standing there with his baseball mitt, squinting at the sun / that Neil Young song. My god, the song. I bawl like a baby every time I hear it.
6. One of the most joyful scenes in a movie is the final montage in FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL. Tell me, who didn’t jump up and down when the nutty, endearing sister donned cowgirl boots and married her big Texan?
8. The George Bush memoir — my free (emphasis on ‘free’) autographed copy — has been retired to its permanent place on the Carter Library shelves, right next to his wife’s. Between the two, there might just be too much massaging of the details, the Washington DC ones and the Texas ones, too. Oh those damned, dickety details.
9. After I took my fat ass (yes, it’s still fat from last year’s writing lollapalooza) to the trail for my 3 mile slog in the rain — don’t we get extra credit for slogging in the rain? — I needed a hot bath. While the water was running I spotted Valerie Plame Wilson’s FAIR GAME and slipped it off the shelf. I’m only on page 22, but I want to be her. She’s that cool, like Nancy Drew for grown ups. Even with all the blacked out CIA-sensitive info, her story is intense. Check out this Vanity Fair article about this woman who is “good with an AK47.” And I don’t even like guns.