Maybe because I’m one-quarter Belgian, or so my parents claim, I tend to go out of my way to discover famous Belgians. I’m half-kidding about that but I do admit…
I laughed out loud, like a lot of writers probably did this week, when I read J. Robert Lennon’s confession in the L.A. Times, The Truth About Writers. The truth,…
Greetings! Your humble guest-editor Michael is back in the saddle for another round of negotiating the highly-addictive world of the book blogs. I had an interesting week, where I had…
The sun blazes in a clear blue sky and is visible well until 9 o’clock at night. It’s Gay Pride weekend in San Francisco, the streets bejewelled with parades, both…
Just one last quote here from First Stop in the New World, and then I promise to stop exhorting you to read the book. This passage concerns an author I…
Mike Edison has been promoting the paperback edition of his book I Have Fun Everywhere I Go: Savage Tales of Pot, Porn, Punk Rock, Pro Wrestling, Talking Apes, Evil Bosses,…
The last book I loved was Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee. Maybe “loved” isn’t the right word. “Loved” implies affection, fealty, romance and adoration. Coetzee’s Booker-Prize winning masterpiece affected me profoundly,…
In the Guardian, novelist Ewan Morrison — whose newest novel is called Ménage — tosses out a list of literary ménages à trois, leading off with the Hemingway erotic novel…