Sunday, February 13, 2011


I mentioned before that I have two subscriptions to literary journals that were given to me as a Christmas present. Zoetrope has really great stories in it, but unfortunately no poetry. The other journal is fairly prestigious and I can't read it. Its like someone assigned you Henry James, Scarlet Letter, Sound and the Fury, War and Peace or Finnegan's Wake. Reading that is good for you, but I don't want to read. I can go home and eat a bowl of oat bran while listening to Brahms and then later watch reruns of masterpiece theatre, but I will pass 99 times out of 100. That's my rant.

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