Too Many Books

Here’s a phenomenon: Walk into a bookstore with no plan to purchase. Walk out with no money to buy food.

People have no self control (and by people, I mean me). I was in the middle of reading Through The Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, also Blueprints For Building Better Girls by Elissa Schappell, and also St Lucy’s Home For Girls Raised By Wolves by Karen Russell (and I still am) last night when I decided to begin Tom Robbins’ Still Life With Woodpecker, the copy of which I ordered finally arrived.

As if I’m not schizophrenic enough already.

Thank you for not believing.


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I was grown from mushroom spores.

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