Man, was at the gym long about 11:15 yesterday, just having a good time reading a JS Breukelaar collection and sweating on various torture devices, when I got a call that maybe I could clean up and drive into my office on campus (like, MILES away) by noon, to talk to the newspeople for a segment that afternoon? Answer, always, when media calls: “Can’t talk right now, I’m already going to that place you told me to be at.” So, I made it, it was great talking zo…

Via the incomparable Jolyon Yates:

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story’s at Automata.

Cool thing about having somebody with Jolyon’s chops do this with a story? It’s that the story gets better. Artists, man, they got the eye, the pencil, and they know how to move across the page in a way we fiction writers only aspire to.

Right at the end of this. I always see people with lines from novels or poems or songs or whatever tattoo’d on them, and I think, man, that’s forever, you might only like that passage this year. But this, from Leonard Cohen, I don’t see myself ever falling out of love with it:

is the author of 22 or 23 books, 250+ stories, and all this stuff here. He lives in Boulder, Colorado, and has a few broken-down old trucks, one PhD, and way too many boots

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