Reading List

The idea of converting my library into pixels on a screen frightens me. Books are meant to be highlighted and dog-eared, their spines cracked and lying facedown on the kitchen table. This how they become part of the scenery and signposts for our memories.

May 18, 2020


Maybe we’ll have a vaccine soon. Maybe the president will poison himself. Things can go either way these days.

May 17, 2020


The Chinese takeout spots along First Avenue have pulled up their metal shutters. The florist is open.

April 26, 2020


Maybe I should work on my resume. Instead, I press on with reading The Plague, dropping the book every few pages to marvel at its resonance.

April 20, 2020


New York City. My attention span has been chewed up by the news.

January 11, 2020

The Memory Police

In Yōko Ogawa’s fable, the residents of an unnamed island suffer the ritual disappearance of objects big and small. Flowers. Lemons. Perfume. Calendars.

May 20, 2019

Our Broken Sky

Like a modern-day Virgil, David Wallace-Wells guided me through tomorrow’s weaponized geography of fire, mud, drought, floods, toxins, rain bombs, and damage mechanics.

April 21, 2017

Between the Stories

My thoughts keep returning to a line in The Handmaid’s Tale: “The newspaper stories were like dreams to us, bad dreams dreamt by others.”

January 30, 2017

The Woman in the Dunes

Kōbō Abe meditates on the reasons the mind craves routine: “It goes on, terrifyingly repetitive. One could not do without repetition in life, like the beating of the heart, but it was also true that the beating of the heart was not all there was to life.”