sitting in a dark back room, staring through one way glass with the strangely metallic taste of old M&Ms sticking to my teeth and my chest feeling more like breasts than pecs.
It's an odd feeling being here, made odder by the general sense of fatigue that the 8am flight (6.15am departure from home) seems to have engendered.
Reading Sharp Teeth at the moment, a lychonthropic pulp novel written in free verse by a guy that I work with and like a lot. It's great. The verse seems like a gimmick (this isn't poetry) at first, but then you realize just how spare the language is, how quickly the story moves and just how muscular everything seems.
Check it out - it's well worth an evening
No comments:
Post a Comment