How Long Things Take

A wonderful little ditty was passed along to me via email this morning, (just when I was wondering what I was going to put in my blog). It comes from a nature watchers mailing list. Seems this guy was cleaning out his basement and stumbled upon a book he’d forgotten. It’s a collection of 5000 entries, each one citing how long a certain process takes. Here are the examples that were in my email: (s=seconds, m=minutes, h=hours, d=days w=weeks y=years) (0.003s) – a housefly’s wings to beat one stroke.(1s) – the wings of a small hummingbird to beat seventy times.(2-3s)

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OK, I admit it…

I liked the first episode of Stacked. I was ready to pan it, but I actually enjoyed it, laughing out loud more than a few times. I know…who would have thought? Two geeky bookstore owners, a swell gal behind the coffee counter, a nutty professor, an ex-wife+2 kids, a tatooed rocker, and Pamela Anderson’s bombshell character-Skyler, all poking fun at celebrity written novels, self-help books, author photos, and of course, boobs. I imagine that many in the publishing biz are going to want to get on the Pammie-train. (and won’t she have the last laugh over all those snobby (jealous)

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Litblog Co-op

What a nifty idea. the litblog co-op Uniting the leading literary weblogs for the purpose of drawing attention to the best of contemporary fiction, authors and presses that are struggling to be noticed in a flooded marketplace. I think I’m gonna start singing Kumbaya…


Spring is here and one of these days I need to get around to having my picture taken for the book jacket. I’m trying not too get weird over it, but I suppose there’s a bit of pressure there…do I – look scholarly, look fun, look wise beyond my years, should I have it taken with glasses, or without (and will I look all squinty eyed and lost without them?) The composition of the author photo is purposely contrived to convey the appropriate authorly attributes specific to his or her genre. It is no accident that Margaret Atwood, queen of

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into the domestic

It’s worth pointing out: a lot of what was submitted was dauntingly undaring. On the whole the submissions from women were disappointingly domestic, the opposite of risk-taking – as if too many women writers have been injected with a special drug that keeps them dulled, good, saying the right thing, aping the right shape, and melancholy at doing it, depressed as hell.Extracted from New Writing 13, edited by Ali Smith & Toby Litt This excerpt from the introduction of New Writing 13 has gotten a lot of flack in the past couple of weeks. I’m not here to join my

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