Picked up a book last night and read it.

Well, I read a bit until I felt suitably tired. Didn't get all the way through, but the point is it's been a while since I read a book of prose. It had also been quite some time since I'd taken a crack at this particular novel, which I set down in order to take up school work instead back in 1995. I guess I was using a stub from what was a recent a bank deposit as a bookmarker, so I know I stopped reading the thing around April 28, way back.

It's too bad I didn't finish The Red Badge of Courage at the time. Seems like it's pretty well written, and a single glance at any printing will tell you it's short. I could have gone through it in a day at the time. I'm a bit slower now, being out of practice, but school work or no--and my teachers at the time liked to coordinate assignments so we would be swamped--I'm not sure why I put this thing down 11 years ago and failed to pick it up again.

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For Every Problem, a Solution (4)

God as depicted throughout the ages. No Alanis Morissette, and, no, that isn't ironic.

An introduction to a book that doesn't exist:

Prose and verse are generally accepted as distinct writing formats with their own rules, styles, and grammars. Though their borders are somewhat vague, they have come to be seen as something of a dichotomy in the eyes of the general public. There are, however, at least 3 other popular approaches to writing as exhibited in picture-books, comicbooks, and plays. Though sometimes given short shrift, these styles are accepted as literature. They are included in libraries, book stores, and academic study. Most importantly, they are read. In the general case, there is clearly writing being done in the creation of any one of these. But what of the wordless comic or silent play? Should we consider scripts written, but fully realized plays, comics, and picture-books, to be performance, art, or some other kind of non-literature? These worries of theory are kinks to be worked out, surely, but they are not of immediate practical concern to the writer...

My room is a mess, my painting unfinished.

...and I still haven't found a good alternative to my scanner with its missing power-cord. Almost finished with this painting, though. I just need to put in a bus seat in front of and behind the passenger. Incidentally, the Seattle Metro buses have the ugliest upholstery I can remember seeing, and I spent five years working at a used furniture store.

Pointless Man

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