Well, it wasn't conducive to reading whole books, but I did come upon some real gems. One was "The Space Heater," a poem by Sharon Olds in the 1/15/01 New Yorker. It brings me almost to tears every time I read it or think of it. The 1/29/01 New Yorker has a great story by Stephen King called "All that You Love Will Be Carried Away." Profound and funny, too.
I'm still listening to the Isak Dinesen bio on tape--it's 15 cassettes! Today at the wonderful Dark Star used bookstore in Yellow Springs, OH, home of Antioch College, I found three of Dinesen's books: Winter's Tales , Seven Gothic Tales , and one I hadn't heard of (actually, two books in one), Anecdotes of Destiny and Ehrengard. I made a number of other great finds, too: a biography of T. H. White by Sylvia Townsend Warner (fortunately, it was still there--I had first seen it there in November but hadn't bought it then, to my great regret since); Steinbeck's To a God Unknown, which I remember being deeply moved by in high school, but I can't recall why; and Joyce Carol Oates's We Were the Mulvaneys, which has now reached bestsellerdom as an Oprah selection. I want to remember to tape that episode of Oprah--the thought of JCO and Oprah discussing books intrigues me.
Last week some friends with whom I meet monthly for mutual encouragement in practicing Stephen Covey's Seven Habits recommended I read Hyrum Smith's 10 Natural Laws of Successful Time and Life Management. I've read quite a bit of it, and in the course of doing so came upon a very profound statement: "Books don't ring." It was in the context of a discussion about the need to distinguish between urgent matters and vital matters. A ringing telephone signals urgency, but, needless to say, far from everything communicated by telephone is vital. Books don't ring, but reading them is a vital matter to many of us. The challenge is to make more time for what is vital and not get carried away by matters that may be urgent but are unimportant.
My current reading is Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer, which is wonderful, but which I haven't been able to enjoy as much as I otherwise might have because of the jangliness mentioned earlier. I want that to change beginning tonight, and I'm going to start by curling up with it in front of a fire.
Found a great blog yesterday thanks to Library Journal. It's librarian.net, by Jessamyn West. No, not that Jessamyn West, who's dead. This one was born in 1968. She's an irreverent, witty, fascinating librarian and lover of books. (Speaking of name confusion, that's Sylvia Townsend Warner mentioned above, and she is not to be confused with Sylvia Ashton Warner, who wrote Teacher and Spinster.)