Trying to catch up on all sorts of randomness...finding little gems here and there that are worth a look.
In Slate, Stanley Fish picks his 3 favourite sentences. He had readers submit, he chose. His three are awesome. Go have a peek. I actually do this as I read; I note a great line or word, but I have this huge problem with writing in books. So, I just tell myself that I will remember the page number. The fact I wake up each day and have to remind myself where I am tells you how great I am at doing that, but no matter. Arlene bought me a Kindle and I think there is a little highlighty feature for just such brainstorms. I'll have to figure it out.
Then again, I'm never sure why I need to remember great lines. All it does is make me crazy that I didn't come up with it.
Couple of awesome pieces sent to me by Mr. Smith out in Dunnville - this one from Ted Widmar in the NYT on Abraham Lincoln's stepmother is lovely.
The other one is in the New Yorker; you probably can't get at it without a password unless you subscribe, but if you can get your hands on it, it's just gorgeous. I read it and sat here thinking, 'I'm never gonna write again'. It's called The Lamb Roast.
In a recent column I complained about my missing Milk Calendar. A reader sent me one, c/o The Spectator. What a doll - thank you!
In my ongoing quest to discover what Twitter is good for, I asked for column ideas last night. Got loads! Thanks to everyone who played. Of course one suggestion leads me to other ideas, but all will be filed for reference.
I answer all my mail. At least I try to. I've recently switched to a new computer, and an updated Outlook (or whatever) and more of my mail is getting junked than ever before. I try to rescue it when I remember, but if you think I'm being a bitch, I'm not. Unless I get more and more 'editors' who keep correcting my grammar. That's usually okay, and I answer most of those because I'm cool with being corrected. But sometimes the nitpicking makes me nuts. At least blast my editors (yes, plural) as well as me. I. Me. We're human. Sometimes we're filing from the road on iPhones. And sometimes we just screw up.
For some reason, Charlie Sheen is all over my news. Please. Go away. I don't care.
For some reason, Jason Statham is not all over my news nearly enough. He purdy.
I desperately want to see True Grit.
I would like a bowl of soup.
Wait. If we're supposed to be getting a snow storm, I should really go buy some soup to bundle up with. And email Jason Statham. Be quiet. The soup could happen.