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"It is not that I am mad; it is only that my head is different from yours.”
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I'll post here rather than in the actual discussion that I may jump in a little late. I have a lot going on, and I just finished Sylvia's Marriage around mid-2010, and it is a weird send up by Upton of Jamesian leitmotifs. I have The Jungle and a number of other titles by Sinclair, but he annoys me, and is one of those true believers who mars his talent with proselytizing, and he knows it.
I love books as much as my writing, and yet can never find a plateau to relax anymore and just dig in and enjoy a head to head, and I don't have a career, nor am I in school, nor have I had a good paying deadline for years. My literary pleasures just cannot seem to converge with my virtual timelines![]()