Life has been busy with the grading of piles of student papers and tests that I unwisely let build up (in ten years of teaching, you'd think I'd know better...) and work on a short story that I promised a certain anthology's editor I would have done by March (and yet it keeps wanting more and different words!), and so I haven't had much to write here. I did get some reading some done this weekend, finishing Lydia Millet's marvelous new novel, How the Dead Dream, which I'll be reviewing for somebody or other eventually. (Briefly: In some ways it's about capitalism and extinction, but it's more an affecting character study, though it's also a laugh-out-loud funny satire, yet really by the end it's a lyrical and heartbreaking look at-- Well, you'll just have to read it. And if you're in the NYC area, stop by the McNally Robinson bookstore on Weds, March 5 for a reading.)
All of which is just me popping up here to say, Nope, still don't really have anything to say. Will you accept a photograph instead?
(That's a picture of a pot made by Hideaki Miyamura and owned by my friends Rick and Beth Elkin. I took the picture on a brief recent trip to visit them in New Mexico -- the morning sun on the glaze was mesmerizing.)