I finished Kelly Link's first collection, Stranger Things Happen. It's available as a free download (see link) but of course I just had to buy a hard copy to read on the subway. I was happy that it starts out with my favorite story by her, Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose, and sad that it didn't have my second favorite, the one where the guy drinks green susan beer and waits to be transformed. Happy that the cover was painted by Shelly Jackson, whose writing I also like; sad that the back of the book was filled with in-jokey endorsements from a crowd of her writer friends.

Like Jorie Graham, Kelly Link makes me want to be a writer. I feel all sorts of new ideas and voices jabbing at the edge of my consciousness while I'm reading her stories, though of course once I look up from the book they all fade away. (My second favorite right now is maybe Louise's Ghost for the scene with the cellists - basically most of the things written from 1998 on are the ones I liked.)

Did I already tell you my new allergist's needle left twin rows of lumps up and down each bicep. Now both my arms look like udders: with little drops of dried blood in the middle of each inflamed swelling, like little hard nipples. Twelve times I watched as the hollow needle slid under my skin, and two of those times, the needle caught and had to be rotated and pushed back in, before she could depress the plunger. And the skin there is still flushed, mottled, and too warm, a reminder of how I can't control my body or keep it from fighting its futile, counterproductive battles.

I have so much to learn, about UNIX, about debugging, about memory, about being kind. Easily another decade's worth of work that I could do and still be learning. But I just want to plant a vegetable garden, and cook, and walk my dog, and read more stories by Kelly Link, and maybe write something someday.

say

1. walking a notional dog or an actual dog of whom i’m not yet aware?
   — j    05.07.08, 2:47am    #
2. notional dog…
   
   argh! my swollen lymph node is killing me! half of my head feels like i’m dealthy ill and the other half feels fine!
   — Miranda    05.07.08, 7:01am    #
3. I have a mission.
   
   My mission is to convince j that “notional” is only a obscurantist word for “imaginary.”
   — e.    05.07.09, 1:56am    #
4. So, imaginary hot dogs would be Hebrew Notional?
   — Jim    05.07.09, 2:00am    #
5. ”...and maybe write something someday”
   
   That’s what I told myself too. Until today, when I found this:
   
   A watched clock never moves, they said:
   Leave it along and you’ll grow up.
   Nor will the sulking holiday train
   Start sooner if you stamp your feet.
   He left the clock to go its way;
   The whilstle blew, the train went gay.
   
   Do not press me so, she said:
   Leave me along and I will write
   But not just yet, I am sure you know
   The problem. Do not count the days.
   He left the calender alone;
   The postman knocked, no letter came.
   
   O never force the pace, they said
   Leave it along, you have lots of time.
   Your kind of work is none the worse
   For slow maturing. Do not rush.
   He took their tip, he took his time,
   And found his time and talent gone.
   
   Oh you have had your chance, It said:
   Left it along and it was one.
   Who said a watched clock never moves?
   Look at it now. Your chance was I.
   He turned and say the accursing clock
   Race like a torrent round a rock.
   
   -Louis MacNeice.
   — rowan    05.07.09, 7:47am    #

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