A Good Book is Hard to Find, oh yes it is

We had an animated discussion about Despair by Vladimir Nabokov - aka Nabby - at the Upper Moreland Library Book Club.

Everyone had a different perspective on this very confusing - but brilliantly wrin novel.

As always, our leader, librarian Adam Cole, had other Nabby books on the table, including

Oops, that's the Russian version. Nabby, born in St Petersburg in 1899, left Russia w his family after the Bolshevik Revolution. The first NINE of his novels were wrin in Russian and then he switched to English, finding it a more expressive language. (quote needed)

King Queen and Knave was not for me. Luckily I check out five books at a time, knowing that one or two will prove to my liking.

Meet the late Janet Frame (1924-2004) of New Zealand. Her birth name was Nene Janet Paterson Clutha



Her life story is as interesting as her books.

She struggled with mental illness all her life and was about to be taken for a lobotomy, which would've killed her inner life, when one of her books was awarded a prestigious prize. 

So I'm enjoying her collection of short stories.



Here's a mystery novel in which I've hopefully passed the Rubicam, the first 16 pages.

 Grace Catherine, how did you get in here? Oh, that's right. I met you shopping at the Giant. Introduced her to pharmacist Hannah Bae. I bot her white mums for getting my Rx straightened out.

Delicious cream of mushroom soup, made with many veggies, lotsa mushrooms and delicious pecans for protein.

My neighbor Luke Skywalker scared the shit out of me when he knocked on the door. I have a strong startle response, as did my dad.



He dropped off a clipping from the Intelligencer of a Letter to the Editor that got published.

When I worked at the Intelligencer/Record on Easton Road, one of the editors, Nora O'Dowd, a real sweetheart, published this very same suggestion on the bottom of the front page.

You know it's never gonna happen, but I'd like to go around in the middle of the nite and paint those very same white circles around potholes to warn people.

Who wants to join me? Oh, YOU do, Sgt Robinson from the Upper Moreland Police Dept? He's the guy who was in the police station when I was arrested and popped in the back of a cop car when I had my first manic episode.


New Directions received a donation today from Wells Fargo Bank. It was for $10.

I have no idea who it's from. I went online but the direx were so complicated I couldn't figger it out. Then I called the 888 number, and naturally, the woman on the other end failed to help me - she undoubtedly knows who the donor is - so I told her, look, I'm gonna hang up. She wished me a nice day.

Ten dollars isn't that much, but I am grateful!

I called my printer, Mark Amos, today. He said Rene of Boggs Printing just emailed him the finished Compass. He said he wanted me to check the proof in 15 minutes.

Over the phone, I asked him how he liked the front cover by Carl Yeager.

Looks great, said Mark.

And the back cover? (a painting by Frank Kelso Wolfe)

Great, he said.

I held the first copy in my hands at 12:30 this afternoon, saying what a lot of hard work it was. Mark reads most of the copy. He doesn't work on Saturday, so I'll be picking up the finished product next week.

I'm psyched!

Friday nite. Date nite. What are your plans?

I have a date with my stationery bike - 20 mins - and then it's off to my upstairs office to work on a short story and a poem about Four Deer who were crossing the road in broad daylight while I was driving to the Library Book Club.

Lord have mercy!