Monday, September 8, 2014

the last book I ever read (Nicholson Baker's Traveling Sprinkler, excerpt eleven)

from Traveling Sprinkler by Nicholson Baker:

“Oh good, that’s good, that’s good,” I said. I took a deep breath and drove to RiverRun Books—they’ve relocated to a smaller space—and bought a copy of Mary Oliver’s New and Selected Poems, Volume Two to give to Roz when she got home. A woman who works there runs a blog called Write Place, Write Time where writers send in photographs of their work areas and describe them. I keep hoping she’ll ask me to contribute so that I can take a picture of my car, but she hasn’t yet.

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