Nothing like a good book!

On break during Census Training I walked over to the library, went to the New Fiction shelf, and picked out a novel I'd never heard of, called The Unit by a Swedish female author.

How do we select a good book? Especially one we've never heard of. I read the first page, then stroke my chin, then read some more, and pretend to put it back on the bookshelf. If it's relatively unbearable to return it, I check it out.

At training, George said to me, I see you at the Willow Grove mall.

Oh, I said, dyou sit with Fred?

Yes, he said. You and your friends are very intense.

You're right, I said. Our group is called The Mall Talk and we have some real serious discussions there.

I must confess that during the first couple hours of Census Training when all 23 or so of us were getting fingerprinted, I fell asleep in my chair. I'm not used to being inactive.

How bout another photograph? Here's a picture of one of my living room walls with a mobile I made outa PVC pipes, then painted with acrylics. Next to it is an American flag, sort of, I painted on a piece of wood.

Below that is the Gettysburg Address. To the right is a collection of my tiny clay sculptures and some meaningful chotchkies such as my father's glasses and an old-fashioned doorknob I took from a condemned house just before the alarm went off. Betty Wms and I happily trespassed together. Yeah, Ruthie, blame it all on Betty. "But, officer.... I...."



Lucky for you, Dear Reader, I just remembered to tell you about the recent death of Alice Miller, author of the influential psychoanalytic book Drama of the Gifted Child. If you look under my blogroll to your right, you'll see it listed.

In my novel, the psychiatrist Irv Kravitz presents a signed copy to our protagonist, saying Alice herself gave him a copy when he met her at a conference in Vienna. What a load of bullshit! You can make up anything and put it in a novel. If it works.