Archive for the 'Joyce Carol Oates is real' Category

NEWS/WEATHER

Published on January 21, 2011 in Joyce Carol Oates is real. 1 Comment

Today’s the day to roast a butternut squash. Museum of the Weird made the long list for the Story Prize, along with Pat Somerville’s The Universe in Miniature in Miniature, Cut Through the Bone by Ethel Rohan, Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever by Justin Taylor, Life Times by Nadine Gordimer, Joyce Carol Oates and some other freaks. Full list here. Great work, everyone.

If you’re going to AWP, you should polish your polishable parts and go to the HTMLGIANT party on Friday night.

If you missed my radio interview, you can listen to it here. After the show I went to get a cheeseburger from Cherrywood Coffee and when I asked for extra pickles, they gave me two little ramekins of pickles and more on the sandwich, and I ate the pickles until my gums felt acidic and stripped. It was the best day.

I realized I’ve never been in the very-cold. I was interested to hear Elizabeth and Aaron talk about it in Ann Arbor and I was asking my friend Ralph about it yesterday. As a desert girl, I am intrigued. It got down to feels-like-25 here last night and it seemed to be the coldest I’ve ever experienced. Ralph says that it can get cold enough in Chicago that you get a headache, like your brain is de-icing through your skull.

Let there sort of be rock

Published on January 26, 2010 in Joyce Carol Oates is real. 3 Comments

Last night I went to see Anvil. They’ve been around and unknown for some thirty years until a documentary brought them fame at fifty. I haven’t seen the movie. Steve “Lips” Kudlow said at the show that metal was a timeless music and would never go away “because people have never heard of it.”

I’m dog-sitting this week. The dog must be walked, which really brings it home how little I am in charge of my cats. With their auto-feeder and auto-litter, they are more like roommates who barf on my floor. (I had a human roommate who would do this.) The dog likes to get its little paws muddy and smell found turds, which is unlike any roommate I have ever had. I do like walking the dog because it allows me the chance to be neighborly and wave at joggers and people in cars.

Today I’m looking through Joyce Carol Oates’s bibliography to find the work with the funniest name. She has written approximately seven hundred novels. So far the winner is After the Wreck, I Picked Myself Up, Spread My Wings, and Flew Away. That’s a cool title and it’s for a YA novel. I love Joyce Carol Oates. I would ask her to move in with me but she would get up at four in the morning to walk the dog and they would both come back covered in brambles, needing to get hosed off.

I made some breakfast rolls from last night’s dinner roll dough (so transformed with a cinnamon/sugar/butter glaze). They came out okay but the dough could have stood to rise more. Maybe I proofed the yeast too long. It is taking me a long time to figure bread out.

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