Lots of work yesterday. Head foggy and muscles tired. More today. But, it's nice. Nice making progress and wondering how in the hell you will ever get all this done in time to actually pack up your things and move.

Anyway, due to the impossibility of work stoppage we will not be convening with the local independent (as in, not financed by anybody) arts collective, which is too bad. Next time. I'm sure it would have made for an entertaining entry.

Unlike this one.

Two excellent developments though.

The Oxford American is back, and better than ever. Buy it for the interesting tidbit sidebars, buy it for the article by a Gainesville professor on teaching Emily Dickinson to college kids there; just buy it. It needs your support and it's a better magazine than it was when it went on hiatus. Did I mention there's a Charles Simic poem?

It terrifies me that a short story writer as good as Jincy Willett could release a collection as good as Jenny and the Jaws of Life and have it go poof. Until now. Here's a review from Esquire that sums up why you should immediately go out and purchase the spiffy Trade rerelease of this book, complete with gushing introduction by none other than David Sedaris, who also sums it up when he calls her work "hilariously funny and perfectly sad." I haven't been hit this hard by someone's sheer ability to write great stories in a long time. I'm not kidding. These are not stories you've read before, they are Jincy Willett's own thing and they are MARVELS.

That is all. Off to it.