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For the Aqueduct Press blog, some books (and one podcast) I enjoyed in 2024.

Yesterday the mail brought my contributor's copy of FUMPTRUCK: Open Letters, Essays, Fiction, Poetry, Artwork & Other Creations for & Inspired by the 47th President of the Divided States of America. It includes my poem "midas" and work by the likes of Mari Ness, Holly Lyn Walrath, Eugen Bacon, Pedro Iniguez, Lisa Morton, Effie Sieberg, Sumiko Saulson, and many more. Its dedication is a quote by Ossie Davis: "Any form of art is a form of power; it has impact, it can affect change--it can not only move us, it makes us move." Amen to that.

At Aqueduct Press's blog, I talk about some of my favorite reads of the year.

One book that didn't make it onto my list is Robert Nathan's novel The Bishop's Wife (1928), which I finished reading (well, listening to on audiobook) this morning. The 1947 film is a favorite of mine, and it was one of the inspirations for my novel Thank You for Sending Me an Angel (which I'm nearly done revising!), but I had never read the novel before. In many ways it is a more sophisticated and philosophical story than the film, though neither version has what I would call a satisfying ending.

The novel makes it clear that the bishop is sexually repressed and that his wife Julia has been disappointed about this since their wedding night, though she enjoys being a mother to their daughter. The marriage between the bishop and Julia is one of mutual respect but, unlike in the movie, there doesn't seem to be much love there. The angel (Michael in the novel) is more earnest and less suave than Cary Grant's Dudley. (He's also fair-haired, and I understood for the first time why they originally thought to cast David Niven as the angel instead of the bishop.) Unlike Dudley, Michael actually kisses and embraces Julia and declares himself to be in love with her. For awhile, I was starting to wonder if Michael and Julia might actually hit the sheets. (Alas, they don't. Julia won't commit adultery, and apparently angels can't actually get carnal, even though Michael is clearly a great kisser.)

The novel is much more explicitly critical of organized religion than the film, and it also brings up antisemitism and racism. I got a little uneasy when the book introduced the wealthy Mr. Cohen, until Cohen told Michael about his grandparents who were killed in a Ukraine pogrom. Wait, I thought, was Robert Nathan Jewish? Sure enough, he was Sephardic. (Side note: he was also the husband of Anna Lee, of Val Lewton and General Hospital fame!)

As much as I like the movie, I can't help but wonder what a Pre-Code adaptation would have done with the book. The novel ends with Julia resigning herself to her unsatisfying marriage, though she has chosen to get pregnant again by the bishop. (At least in the novel, no one gets their memories angelically erased at the end.)

I've been thoroughly enjoying the audiobook, read by the author, of Frank Langella's memoir Dropped Names. I just listened to the section on Raul Julia (in which Langella freely admits to having been in love with him), and why oh why isn't there any video of the 1984 revival of Design for Living, starring Julia, Langella, and Jill Clayburgh? I mean, really.

At the Aqueduct Press blog, I talk about the books I most enjoyed reading this year (most of them published in 2021).

I'm happy to share my contribution to Aqueduct Press's annual series, The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening. I talk about books and other media that helped get me through this unbelievable year. I always enjoy contributing to this series and reading all the other blog posts.

Meanwhile, I'm contemplating making gingerbread this evening.

I'm hennaing my hair on a mild Los Angeles afternoon. I'm overdue for a haircut, and the length of my hair makes hennaing unwieldy, but now that the weather has finally cooled off, I'm enjoying having long hair. We've had apocalyptic wildfires, followed by a bit of rain. This weekend I polished off my portion of the leftovers (following a lovely Thanksgiving dinner with my mom).

I've been enjoying the second volume of Sylvia Plath's collected letters, and (very slowly) Sylvia Townsend Warner & William Maxwell's letters to each other. I may take a break from these to read some crime novels I have on my tablet.

I'm delighted that my poem "midas" will appear in a future issue of Not One of Us. It's a political poem, as most of my poems post-2016 seem to be.

Meanwhile, I'm still plugging away at my first novelette. (Nearing the end, I think.) Also I've just read two novels by Barbara Comyns, Our Spoons Came From Woolworths (which Lyman gave me for my birthday) and the disturbing, beautiful The Vet's Daughter. Of the latter, I'm still not quite sure how Comyns gets away with the ending.

I am hennaing my hair on a warm Los Angeles afternoon. We recently had a brutal heat wave (complete with wildfires), but things have calmed down. Next week it looks like we may even have a spate of early autumn weather, though I'm sure we'll have another blast of heat before Halloween. Meanwhile I am thinking of Hurricane Irma and hoping my friends in Florida weather the storm easily. I can't even get my mind around the devastation the hurricane has already caused.

A few days ago Patti Smith's slim new book Devotion appeared on my tablet. It is half fiction, half memoir / meditation on writing, and I gobbled it up far too quickly.

I am hennaing my hair on an autumnal LA afternoon. The political situation continues to evolve in alarming and surreal ways. It's shaping up to be a very strange holiday season.

I finally finished reading the wonderful Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life, which I began before the election. I'm not sure what I feel like reading next, which is to say I'm not sure what will keep my attention off of politics for more than a few minutes at a time.

I probably should be watching a lot more horror movies.

It is Henna Day, in the midst of a spate of lovely autumnal LA days. (Another heat wave is scheduled for later this week.) Yesterday I baked pumpkin scones (from a Trader Joe's mix), and they are delicious.

The election is three weeks away, and I'm on edge, though at least the polls are encouraging.

I'm enjoying the new Shirley Jackson biography (Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life by Ruth Franklin), which is full of amazing information, such as the fact that "Jackson tried to structure a story around a potato kugel recipe."