Frances Johnson: the minutes

Observations about Frances Johnson, all of which are copular sentences (I think):

Munson is a lock-in.

Dr. Mark Carol is sexy.

Nancy is Frances' therapist.

Kenny is evil.

Frances' procedure is some kind of women's troubles remover (e.g.: period flowbee).

Curly-Dawn is an awesome name.

Mostly, when we like stuff (as was the case here), we spend a lot of time reading our favorite parts out loud, like the scene where Frances jokes with Nancy by smushing her legs on the hassock: "With a confused, myopic gaze, Nancy tried to withdraw her legs so slowly that the unpleasant dryness of stockings and skin scratched along Frances' legs, even as the woman completed the movement with a sudden jerk that made her hair fly." And so on. That whole scene is so good.

Quotes out of context

"I'm too busy and important to read things. I skim."

"They can still see up people's skirts though."

"He said 'sexy' six times!"

"I picture Stacey Levine looking like Jennifer Jason Leigh."

"Currently I make zero dollars."

"Oh, the tranny 'ho!"

"I'm sure he got the best BJ of his life later."

"Boys don't have friends unless they're all single and hang out in a pack."

"My marathon party will consist of people coming over to the deck to put ice bags on me."

Special guests

David Lee Roth did not show up, although I do admit I gave him very short notice. Still. You'd think he'd have made an effort.

Also, we missed Meghan.

Strangely-Shaped Books

I think it is good how the last three books we have read have been interestingly shaped and sized.

Eeeee Eee Eeee: small and squareish, with text that doesn't claustrophobically fill up the whole page so that there are fields of white space around it. Hotel Theory bigger and square, double-fonted, columned. And Frances Johnson so cute and teensy, so it can snuggle in your pocket. All childrens books should be this size, I think.

It is a good sign when a book is strangely-shaped. I am only going to buy oddly-sized-and-shaped books from now on. I think that if something is an odd size and shape it is necessarily good.

I got a copy of Baudelaire's Poems in Prose today--it is beautiful: square, and hard-covered, with a man's face etched into the front cover, and with smooth, thick, white paper. I am in love with it.

Objects, absence, authors

Objects

My phone stopped working, and I have a loaner for the next five days. It is oh-so-very early 90s: bulky, square alarm-clock-numbers in the display. It is an exact replica of the phone owned by the individual who previously held my position at work.

My hand on it looks like hers. I remember things now, like how she ate hot cereal in the morning and took time when she needed it. Is she my Nancy? Maybe not: I remember her eating raisins with gusto, when, clearly, they are repulsive.

Absence

One of the things Kathy and I will be doing in the next few days is attending a workshop at which I will learn how to position things under headlines. No further comment.

Authors

We need to write to Don DeLillo and Miranda July. I want to start:

Dear Don DeLillo,

Does the very thought of having a society devoted to studying your work cause a pleasurable sensation in your special place?

Dear Miranda July,

Have you ever slept with any movie stars? Which ones? Details, please.

Technically, we should be writing to Stacey Levine this week, but because we're going to interview her, I think we should discuss the questions on Saturday. And plus also too, she gets the two questions Wayne could not answer.

Oh yeah...some books are good

Lacking a literary collective (or even a book club) in the last couple of years, I spent a lot of time at the library being overwhelmed. To remedy this problem, I beelined for the new books section and chose lots of books at random, based mainly on title and graphics and size--what some might call "cover."

I read a lot of crap, developed a penchant for first novels and began cultivating The Dread.

The Dread is the feeling that no one will ever, ever understand what you are doing, so you should change it. It feels a lot like being a teenager. It sucks the fun out of writing. It just sucks.

I got Frances Johnson in the mail this afternoon. Hooray for Frances Johnson. Because oh yeah, some books are good.

Also, I like its cover.