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They're a book that's quick to close
"Vicarious Snow for Gwynne Garfinkle" sounds like a jazz improv or possibly experimental electronica. Taken earlier this evening, shortly after the snow began. Being able to stand on a front porch is an exciting experience. I am still considering how it compares to a back deck.
Beginning late in the afternoon, I unpacked and shelved all of the plays, poetry, biographies and memoirs, and assorted nonfiction—currently sorted into performing arts and literature, science and philosophy, sociopolitics and wars, and literature of place and time—that came with me from the old apartment. Further volumes are still in storage. The Judaica is its own section and will require more shelves, as will the classics. Being able to unpack all of the fiction will also require more shelves, ideally not another apartment. It all used to fit into a one-bedroom, but I cared about fewer things then.
Beginning late in the afternoon, I unpacked and shelved all of the plays, poetry, biographies and memoirs, and assorted nonfiction—currently sorted into performing arts and literature, science and philosophy, sociopolitics and wars, and literature of place and time—that came with me from the old apartment. Further volumes are still in storage. The Judaica is its own section and will require more shelves, as will the classics. Being able to unpack all of the fiction will also require more shelves, ideally not another apartment. It all used to fit into a one-bedroom, but I cared about fewer things then.
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I find this sentiment all too relatable . . .
You might enjoy the most recent story in Daily Science Fiction, "The Fan Who Wasn't There." It is pretty blatantly about Sapphire and Steel (the TV show central to the story is called Granite and Gold), though it is not precisely S&S fanfic.
(Fair warning: it is also, tangentially, a pandemic story.)
no subject
I had friends who built a barn for their books. I respect that.
You might enjoy the most recent story in Daily Science Fiction, "The Fan Who Wasn't There." It is pretty blatantly about Sapphire and Steel (the TV show central to the story is called Granite and Gold), though it is not precisely S&S fanfic.
"Imagine Scooby Doo if it were rewritten by J.B. Priestley, and you've more or less got the sense of it."
Those serial numbers are barely even scuffed.
(I should review the film I saw that was adapted from a play by J.B. Priestley. It was pretty weird.)