I have pieces of stories everywhere. Literally.

I open my IFS space and see that nearly every file is either a story bit, or something for AIESEC. Real shocking, right? If I could, I’d sit and write all day long. If I did that, I wonder if I could ever reach the point where my head is really empty. And what the hell would that be like? Stillness? Probably until something else moved and made me start thinking again.


So, I’ve purchased about five bajillion books in the last 24 hours:

Alice Munro’s Lives of Girls and Women
Louise Erdrich’s Love Medicine
Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping
The Best American Travel Writing 2004
Don DeLillo’s White Noise
Jeffery Eugenides’ Middlesex
Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway
Gayl Jones’ CoRregi dora
Phillip Roth’s The Ghost Writer
Gish Jen’s Typical American
Nicholson Baker’s The Mezzanine
Edward P. Jones’ The Known World
Michael Cunningham’s The Hours
Tim O’Brien’s In the Lake of the Woods
Robert Hayden’s Collected Poems
Mbye Cham’s Ex-Iles: Essays on Caribbean Cinema

These are only three classes and one book for myself. The good thing is that I’ve spent less than a hundred dollars on all of this. Thank god for gift cards and discounts at places of employment. This is when I’m glad that I work at a bookstore.

All I have to say is: I’m going to be a fucking genius after this semester [if I read all of these books…].