I am one part journalist, one part reader, one part writer. I read whatever takes my fancy, but what takes my fancy is often post-modern. I believe in the existence of good books and bad books, and so I believe in the existence of high books and low books, as well as books not worth to be called books. (Case in point: Pregnesia (probably) is a bad book, but I bet it’s heaps of fun. Atlas Shrugged, on the other hand, is an abysmal book best used as a litmus test: if someone you just met says he/she liked it, or -heaven forbid!- “loved” it, walk very calmly away without turning your back. They might have rabies.) I applaud the advent of ebooks as a principle, but I am too fond of my library even though one of its primary functions is the gathering of dust. I still write first drafts in longhand. I correct in longhand. I am slow. I take pride in being slow. There are worse things to be. When people kiss in movies, I look away. I guess I think it’s a private moment, even though it was made to be watched.



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Choose your medicine

The Fake Library

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