But right now I’m all about rolling around in Francesca Lia Block’s Quakeland, which I picked up this weekend at the L.A. Times Festival of Books at the Manic D Press booth (this was easy to do, since the other half of the booth was occupied by my organization, and I spent a sweaty but fun 16 hours there).
I first read Block’s Weetzie Bat books when I was in junior high, and I fell in love with an
Quakeland is a grown-up book by a writer who is a good 20 years older than when she wrote Weetzie. And I’m 20 years older than when I first read Weetzie. So yeah, it feels different. Is she a little warier or am I? Is
I love how reading is so not static. I love her strength of voice, something that alludes even some of my favorite novelists. It makes me want to build little altars and drape my fu
Feeling like I want to experience the material world differently is a testament to the texture of her prose, and soaking up the city’s everyday beauty—so easy to ignore after you look at it long enough, like a post-it on the fridge—is a wonderful way of rolling around in it. I’m driving to the ArcLight to see Iron Man soon, and for the first time in years, I’m looking forward to the trek down Sunset.