These Fragments I Have Shored Against My Ruin
I’m in Asheville, NC: my fifth city in five days.
When I’m in hyper-traveling mode like this I find that my sanity gets a bit fragile. You start creeping around feeling alienated from everyone. You become abnormally interested in the movie they’re showing on the plane, even (especially!) when that movie is The
Remaining in touch with reality is a constant running battle. Fortunately I have help in this glorious struggle, from the following things:
— David Mitchell’s The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. I’ve been reading Mitchell for a long time now. His books can be uneven — Number9Dream was a problem for me — but never boring. He’s committed to great storytelling, and he’s willing to try all kinds of extreme formal gambits that I could never pull off — he’s like the Roger Federer of the novel. I don’t know any writers who aren’t interested in Mitchell. It’s real litgeek stuff.
— My rotating cast of comforting nerdy t-shirts that have on them:
— a schematic of an Imperial Walker. It was meant to promote Star Wars Rogue Squadron 3: Rebel Strike, but it has long outlived its game.
— the symbols of the various members of the Justice League. The shirt itself is also a tasteful cloudy blue. I basically can’t go on stage without this shirt.
— Roast Beef from Achewood
— a picture of Snape from Potter Puppet Pals. It says “Potions Master”
— MC Frontalot, “Better at Rapping”
— Lou Anders and Jonathan Strahan, Swords and Dark Magic. I wanted to be in this anthology, but my piece didn’t fit the theme. Not enough swords in it. But that is not preventing me from enjoying the book. Joe Abercrombie. Caitlin Kiernan. Bill Willingham. Michael Moorcock. FTW.
— Anthony Bourdain’s Medium Raw. Cooking is a big deal to me. Cooking is what I do instead of watching TV. And Bourdain knows 30 thousand times more about cooking, and people who cook, than I ever will. Which granted most people do, but Bourdain can write about it. When I forget what being honest on paper sounds like, I go to Bourdain. He seems to experience reality the same way I do: degrading humiliation alternating with ecstatic happiness, without much in between. This particular collection isn’t top-shelf Bourdain. But it’s new and I’ll take it.
— Parry Gripp, “The Girl at the Video Game Store”
— TowerMadness for the iPhone. Actually this one may be hurting my sanity more than it’s helping. I keep dying at level 55 of Danger Meadow.