Snippets

In a flip from last week, the novel I just finished, The Satisfaction Café, went quickly. A novel of a woman's life, it was a quick read of a sort I appreciate. Looking at another's life often times gives me understanding into my own and a realizatioon that I am not unique. While a lighter read than the last of this type, The Correspondent, The Satisfaction Café had many moments of insight.

In yet another switch, last week's New Yorker, with its many articles that I spent time not only reading but thinking and writing on, was unlike this week's. In fact, the longest article, on Laura Loomer, was painful to read. Loomer is a person I have no desire to spend time with, let alone my precious morning minutes. But, like many articles in NYer, I often feel I'm in the 'first to know' seat. Elon Musk's use of drugs was another, as was Rowan Farrow's on Hollywood and the depth of sexual abuse of women. I learn what others will in the weeks to come. In Loomer's case, the monetization, perhaps, of her beliefs.

Leaving Loomer, two articles did give me a bit of myself, one on a director of movies, and the other on David Byrne, the lead singer in a band from my past.

In the first, what I like. I love to be reading along and have a surprise. Bill Bryson comes to mind. Descriptive, seemingly serious writing, with a wallop of hilarity to end the passage. 

Suspense, on the other hand, is hard on me. Being chased in dreams has always been a fear of mine. What's to come?!? is a feeling that builds to dread. I guess it's the same with reading. One of Erik Bachman's hockey novels is an example. The suspense became so fraught for me that I had to text a friend to see if I would be able to keep reading. 

The passage, succinctly, gave clarity to the writing style I prefer. 

The second passage was on the lead singer of the Talking Heads,* the band honored at our last festival in October. I'd loved a song - a new song I'd never heard - that two bands played, albeit, with totally different vibes. I thought of that time when reading this passage. 

Reading Bryne's explanation today, I thought, yeah, exactly. Songs can be two dimensional. We internalize the words but move with the beat. 

Aha Moments

*In my twenties we followed a local band, who loved the Talking Heads, often playing a number of their songs. I once was heard yelling, "House on Fire," which was really me asking for the song, "Burning Down the House." It was a mistake in wording that my boyfriend told me was probably not the best thing to yell in a public place. He was known for deciphering what I said and what I meant. A case of clarity from confusion, I guess.