What have I been reading? Well, most of most of the New Yorkers, lately. And the most recent Paris Review, when that came out. And the new N+1, which was worth it just for Caleb Crain's beautiful novella, "Sweet Grafton."
          Otherwise, I have Hamlet open behind the bed, and Under The Volcano. I am determined to finish Under the Volcano, although it's slow going. The writing is lush and gorgeous, but it's so alcoholic it's almost shocking and I need to break from it. I knew it was going to be alcoholic, but I didn't know it would be so alcoholic. Pretty terrifying, really, and grim.
          Hamlet, I suspect, is abandoned for the time being. I really only picked it up because my husband has been on a Shakepeare jag and I wanted to be just like him. I'll read it again some other time.
          I also abandoned The Idiot.
          Sad, isn't it?
          I am reading a non-fiction book about brain development in babies and toddlers called What's Going on In There? It's pretty good. Some of the heavy neurosciency bits pass me by, but it's pretty interesting.
          Amy Hempel's collected short stories are coming in the mail, and so is The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. I have high hopes for both.
          And, of course, what I am reading diligently every night are the Madeline books, the Lyle books, Are You My Mother?, and Dr. Seuss's ABC.