I plan to empty (almost?) several folders of blog thoughts, but I have to sleep some more first. It’s 15 to 4 in the morning my time. The coming switch to Daylight Saving won’t mean a thing to me. I’m not being Saved.
Anon, anon.
So—three books I have neither money nor time to read but that sound very interesting: The Book of Jezebel; An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Lady Things, ed. Anna Homes, written by Kate Harding and Amanda Hess. Apoarently it is a combination of fact and opinion about a disparate bunch of women, both real and imaginary, described (or dismissed) with some zinger one-liners, kind of snarky. It’s a browsing book, according to the reviewer (Mignon Fogarty), while the next one is “hard to put down”.
The Horologicon, A Day’s Jaunt Through the Lost Words of the English Language, by Mark Forsyth, is for word-lovers and etymoloigsts alike as well as curious historians. A few examples of words that are hung on a day’s activities will probably make you want to own the book: “ale-passion” describes a hangover; “considering glass” is a mirror; ”chorking” is what walking in wet shoes sounds like and “elf-locks” are messy morning hair. I guess I’ll succumb sooner or later, and buy the book.
Wordbirds, An Irreverent Lexicon for the 21st Century, by Liesel Schillinger, Illustrated by Eiizibeth Zechel, is more than birds, according to Fogarty, the reviewer. It seems the author is a word-watcher, not merely a bird-watcher. Again a few examples are offered to whet the appetite. We welcome “brightbite” for someone who has overdone the bleach on the teeth and “earduds” for those who tune out with earbuds. I may not have acquired the books but the review was worth saving.
The next two clippings require a whole blog each, or even an editorial essay, one on climate change or the effect on it of personal tourist travel; the other on “literary blogs”—litblogs—and the effect on the virtual literary community. This latter result is the subject of a book, The Digital Critic: Literary Culture Online, ed .Housaman Barekat, Robert Barry and David Winters and it brings bad news and good news. As the genre proliferates, the writing skills employed in this way (like mine) are devaluated and make it harder to make a living—not even a tip.. Yet unpaid labour keeps so much afloat that would otherwise sink and disappear.
It’s not audience I lack, it’s money.
That’s more than a blog’s worth of discussion, but I’m going to bed. I’ll never start a revolution. Not at my age.
More (free) litblogs tomorrow.