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Angst, ennui

I am sad that Jeanette Winterson killed herself. I mean, the loss of human life, the loss of a literary luminary… I keep looking for new novels in her section at the bookstore, then remembering she’s dead and feeling sad.

Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake picked up some speed by the middle, but I can’t help but feel that at least two of the three main characters were never fully fleshed out. Also, the sci-fi elements of the book were resonating strongly with some of Cory Doctorow’s short stories, and I think Doctorow is, in the case of sci-fi, more inventive and inspired, if Atwood is a better wordsmith and writer overall.

I still have to read Luis’s “Hellboy” graphic novels, dammit. I don’t know if I’m up to it. I keep pulling them out of their shopping bag and then stuffing them back in. Funny how the guys at the comic shop just know I’m not a regular.

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