“i’m glad you mentioned the word ON the street festival”
ah, you gotta love matt galloway and how much he loves books, and toronto. (and, for that matter-the radio. his latest interview for the grid with ira glass is so great..) but shame on the representative of the mayor’s office that fucked up the name of the city’s book festival at the toronto book awards a few weeks ago, damn-that’s a fail. or, a true representation of the mayor’s office. as i was reading through this one, i was thinking how it was my pick for the award, and then i found out that it actually was a finalist. hashtag, no accidents. i love that the book happens largely in my neighborhood, in such brilliant little collections of sentences:
“Men stared at Erin with soft looks in their eyes, like they were reading an old book they really loved. I was the period of the sentence that Erin’s swishing hips wrote.” (215)
“But I couldn’t concentrate. I was so hungry that the type was swimming in front of my eyes, smudging into blots of blurriness. This happened all the time. It would start with the commas. They’d sway like sneakers being dangled by their laces from an overpass and then bang, they’d tumble off the page. Then went the apostrophes, these westward fledging sparrows that my eyes craned to catch but missed. The regular letters made up words I had to squint to follow. Lately, reading a book was as deadly as watching a train derail. I’d miss one word, then a line, and then a whole page would crash.” (174)
“Now it occurred to me that just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean you won’t miss it when it goes away.” (252)
so imagine if you do like something. ok, someone. if tuesday is d-day for an affair, wouldn’t you want to celebrate until then? (sigh) but i guess that’s the difference in those who believe that there are “obligations” in life and those who know to choose every moment.