Had dinner last week with Richard Grayson, author of the excellent With Hitler in New York and I Brake for Delmore Schwartz, among other things. Grayson reminds me a bit of one of my best friends, to whom Fires is dedicated. With Hitler in New York is probably the best short story collection I've read in the past year or so(although it's several decades old, if I'm not mistaken) since Last Night.
Saw the BODIES exhibit, which was really informative and I learned a lot. I learned that the Chinese government has lots of dead people lying around, and that bodies are disgusting.
Saw Army of Shadows Sunday afternoon. Good movie, though it felt long. Not quite as pristine as Le Samurai, but more vital-feeling (as well as more conscious of death--hardly a coincidence). Ate delicious ravioli afterward.
Revisions on an intermediate novel formerly titled both Love Misery and The Graves are taking place right now. Excruciatingly slowly due to Fires and life in general. But to be completed in six weeks or less, I hope. Midnight Picnic is in stasis, simmering.
Last night I dreamed Fires came out and someone reviewed it--a former classmate, though a fictional one existing only for the purposes of the dream*--and wrote something like "His novel is all right, but his blog is better." Literally my worst nightmare in memory.
*I hated most of my Yale classmates but I could have kept it better hidden. Now they are all media interns or journalists.