Things I didn’t post on FaceBook and Why

A brief list:

What to say? best say nothing.

  • Quote from Simone de Beauvoir’s Mémoires d’une Jeune Fille Rangée about her désespoir. On second thought, pretentious. Plus Facebook’s auto-translate would mangle the meaning.
  • Opinion of I, Tonya. On second thought, my private opinion. Why share?
  • Opinion of Darkest Hour. Ditto.
  • Opinion of Moontide. Ditto.
  • Comment on depressing story in news. I think a dozen people have already said the same thing. And if I try for originality I’ll end up making another Ayn Rand reference and leaving the wrong impression.
  • Comment on American political situation. What is there to say, really? Parallels to French under occupation kind of pretentious as well as obscure.
  • Comment on politics. Am I actually interested in politics? No. Best not to reveal this.
  • Photo of man fishing in music concourse fountain for change late at night. On second thought, this feels like an invasion of privacy. Plus, parallels to Dickens’s London kind of pretentious. Plus photo blurry.
  • Photo of self on rural walk. Way too private to post pictures of self, especially doing something private, like walking or going about my life.
  • Opinion of Yves Saint Laurent documentary. Excessive Francophilia starting to be embarrassing.
  • Photo of picturesque cityscape taken during my commute. Too busy racing cars and other cyclists to actually take photos.
  • Photo of comic sign on Clement Street. This has probably been done enough. Plus photo blurry and too dark.
  • Plans to go to Gay Games in Paris. See above, re privacy, Francophilia
  • Photo of dish at fancy restaurant. Seems like other people have this covered. Plus see above, privacy, parallels to Dickens.
  • Photo of cute child. Kids I know are now too old to be cute. Plus invasion of privacy on multiple levels.
  • Kitten Photo. Misleading, as I have no kittens.

The Man Who Would Be Lesbian

69 Barrow Street, by Lawrence Block writing as Sheldon Lord, Tower, 1959

Cover Line: “Their Love was Right! But Their Sex Was Wrong!”

We’ve all known them: the men who long to be lesbians. in the days before they found an outlet for their frustrated desires by dominating the discussions in women studies classes with passionate paeans to Monique Wittig, they wrote lesbian pulp.

Does Lawrence Block belong to this esoteric tribe? One thing is for sure: before becoming Continue reading

Bookstore Chronicles: The Power of Positive Thinking

I had a busy day at the bookstore Tuesday. There was a box from triliteral to unpack (I want all the books in the semiotexte series — so small, so simply designed, with such apocalyptic titles) and I was entering the books in the system while customers kept interrupting me — which is good! No complaints. We like it when people buy books.

A man in town for a convention asked if we had any books on dachshunds. No, I said, after conscientiously doing a keyword check, was he a dachshund fan? he wasn’t, his wife was. But stronger than a fan she was…”obsessed?” I suggested. He bought a psychedelic card. Continue reading

Sisters United

I went to the Lesbian Herstory Archives in Brooklyn a few weeks ago. Mostly just to check it out–I’ve been curious about it forever, or at least since I saw Cheryl Dunye’s Watermelon Woman which used it as a setting.

However, I had a project or two to focus my visit: mid-sixties period research with a lesbian slant; and finding out what I could about an obscure periodical, Sisters United, Continue reading

Fountain Pens

I write with a fountain pen. An Esterbrook plunger model. Not just because it’s eco, or because Patricia Highsmith favored Esterbrooks, or because I’m a luddite contrarian, although all these things are true. I use it because it feels good in my hand and the ink goes from dark to peacock blue as it dries and because every time I have to refill it– Continue reading