Reading week is half over. (Notice the complete lack of unnecessary words in that sentence. Subject + verb = my new goal. With exceptions.) Differently than last year, I have actually been reading. One of the greatest challenges in getting reading done seems to have been taken care of, which is the locating of a suitable spot to read in. This week it is on the couch in the living room. There is natural light from the window, artificial light if needed, and a guitar and mandolin close by for break time. Oh yes, and with the right position of pillows it is possible to lay prone and read, or type, which is a fantastic bonus when either has to be done in any great amount of time. Currently I am working my way through White Noise by Don Delillo, The Complete Writings of Menno Simons, The Portable MFA in Creative Writing by the New York Writers Workshop, Maus I, by Art Spiegleman, and The League of Extraordianry Gentleman by Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neil. Michael Ondaatje's Divisidaro is mixed in there as well. I also have a strong urge to go back to one of my old textbooks and read some more Marx with a little Kant on the side, but I have a feeling that'll have to wait until the term is over. And there are some three books I need to review for Choice Books yet, but those will likely have to wait too. Lots of reading. In the New York Writers Workshop book they advise writers to focus on significant moments in their lives, both physical and literary. That is, try to key in on a situation that had some affect, be it a situation, or a significant work of writing that was read. I've always had a hard time figuring out what such moments are in my life (aside from all the quintessential answers of course). However, yesterday as I was skimming over that chapter again, it occurred to me that there has been one author that has significantly affected my reading and writing habits. Michael Ondaatje, born in Sri Lanka (when it was still Ceylon), now a Canadian citizen, has provided me with what I think may be one of the strongest creative sparks yet. If I had to describe his writing, I'd say it was a hodgepodge of Hemingway and Cormac MacCarthy with a splash of Steinbeck on the side. The language is stripped down and bare - to the the essential elements. One of my friends recently said that she loved poetry because it was all about words, and that I think is how best to sum up Ondaatje's work. His prose is very poetic, but as if that wasn't enough, he mixes poetry and photography in with his work to create almost a multimedia-effect within the covers of a book. Very cool. Both Running in the Family, and The Collected Works of Billy the Kid are put together in such a fashion, and both are wonderful plunges into foreign and familiar worlds. Ondaatje is also an interesting read becuase he is a celebrated Canadian author, who seems to avoid CanLit; not a very easy thing to pull off. I really do think it is becuase he boils down the language to the bare essentials. Poetry and prose and poetic prose. Very tasty. Anyhow, I should discontinue with the writing and continue with the reading. Here's a sampler of Ondaatje (again) from The Collected Works of Billy the Kid. *WARNING: NOT FOR THOSE WITH SENSITIVE DISPOSITIONS* (Warning mine) After shooting Gregory this is what happened I'd shot him well and careful made it explode under his heart so it wouldn't last long and was about to walk away when this chicken paddles out to him and as he was falling hops on his neck digs the beak into his throat straightens legs and heaves a red and blue vein out Meanwhile he fell and the chicken walked away still tugging at the vein till it was 12 yards long as if it held that body like a kite Gregory's last words being get away from me yer stupid chicken | 
). That friend was Jess, wasn't it 
haha. Oh Facebook.
