Myth Happens

Today for breakfast derspatchel and I made oatmeal and ate it at the dining room table together, which I think is like the most domestic thing we've done since buying a bathmat.

It's Mardi Gras, which means it must be the official release date of King David and the Spiders from Mars, edited by Tim Lieder (Dybbuk Press, 2014). It reprints my short story "Moving Nameless" from Not One of Us #27 and I've been waiting a year to see what the rest of the table of contents is like, because from some of those titles I'm very curious. You should totally check it out and report back. Here is where I will also mention that on March 24th rinue and I will be reading from our respective stories at 2A—that's in the East Village, so I hope to see New York-area people there. If time allows, in keeping with the theme of the evening, I will also read some poems from A Mayse-Bikhl. If time doesn't allow, it should still be pretty cool.

The performance on Sunday went well. I felt a little blunted from dryness and the eternally lingering rags of February's hell-cold, but I was happy with my songs and people said nice things about them and there were free chocolate-dipped strawberries afterward, so let's hear it for Beth El Temple Center. Yesterday was mostly physical therapy and shelving. The tall shelves my father built for my office cover poetry, plays, biography (although not all my nonfiction, which is currently residing in the dining room), all hardcovers and oversized paperbacks to date, and all mass-market and trade paperbacks from Aaronovitch through Pasternak, anthologies included. I am now trying to figure out where to shelve Peace through Zusak, which still doesn't take care of classics in translation, but those I feel much less imperatively about having within reach of my desk. Then of course there's the problem of the further books I will acquire, but I'll deal with that as it piles up. Today I expect a lot of work and logistics.

Happy birthday, audioboy!