Oh my god... I just woke up from a dream that I can't entirely remember but I know it contained:
1) scenes of driving horribly, flipping over an SUV and so forth (clearly prompted by anxiety about doing a lot of driving in the near future);
2) the appearance of a woman I used to be obsessed with (clearly prompted by a recent conversation with ASB about this woman);
3) a scene of urinating copious quantities of blood (prompted by ????)
It's 24 degrees outside in New York right now. The wind chill is 7. I'm really glad I'm not going to work today.
Posted on HTMLGiant about writers who are or could be murderers. Contains picture of Patricia Highsmith that makes me want to date her, even though she was a lesbian.
Last night I finished writing a book review for this book. I liked it. First time I've written a book review in some time, I believe. They're harder to write than movie reviews (because, well, you have to read the book, which takes longer than seeing a movie, and because it seems like more care needs to go into it, somehow, and you as a reviewer are vulnerable in a different way since you're working in the same medium--prose--that was used to create the piece of art you're critiquing), but in some ways also easier (because you have the work right in front of you and you can quote from it--and should, extensively--to bolster your points and give the reader a sense of the book).
Lying beside me in bed right now is Teatro Grottesco. I hope to read some of it today, although I've got some other stuff to do (like writing). I read the Polanski article (link is abstract only) in the New Yorker last night... fascinating reading. The part about his autobiography describing how he recovered from the Tate murders by having sex with lots of European schoolgirls is pretty bizarre.