Back from working my way through a mountain of dirty clothes at the laundromat this afternoon. The inconvenience of not having our own machines is noted, but still, I’ve always found something oddly pleasing in the ritual trek. It’s made all the more significant when almost everything wearable one owns begins ...
Some random notes from last month’s LA Times Festival of Books, before I forget the two days of peaceful rambling up and down the hills of UCLA. How relatively little fiction, for a start. How much space given to self-help books and self-publishing organisations (if that’s not contradictory). Ricky Jay was ...
A. and I are in Portland, looking after her grandparents while her parents are away in Hawaii. The quiet, the huge, well-stocked house, and the presence of both a Chevy Tahoe and a BMW outside the front door ought to make this time something of a relaxing break from LA — and it is something ...
Dinner with friends some time ago, and, things having been a bit lubricated with wine, a friend of theirs aimed a question in my Limey direction, a reasonable paraphrase of which would be something like: “So. The Royal Family. What’s that all about then? Hmm? Hmm??” The edge of belligerence in his tone ...
Almost the first thing I wrote on this blog, almost a year ago, was a small piece about the beginning of filming of the Hitch-Hiker’s Guide. Almost a year later, spare a thought for the film itself, because it’s become the locus of so much baggage and anger that it’s no longer just a film. ...
We drove across to Glendale on a whim yesterday and spent a pleasantly weird couple of hours wandering around Forest Lawn, inspiration for Evelyn Waugh and many others. The air around LA was thick with a low-lying mistiness that flattened the views across the city into planes of grey, but we were in a quiet ...
A. and I saw two films yesterday, and my reactions to each of them probably say a lot about what sort of person I am. We headed over to Hollywood in the afternoon, got caught in one of those inexplicably snarly patches of LA traffic, missed the start of the film we’d intended to see, ...
(Apologies in advance for how crappily-written this is. It’s late and I’m tired, but I wanted to post it anyway.) Pretty much the defining characteristic of qualia is that they’re unsharable. They keep us in our own little bubble-world of sensations, and we’ve no idea what the same ostensible feeling ...
Once upon a time I lived in a beautiful city full of bookshops. Whenever I could, I would take myself to readings and signings and such, and, whenever I did, the same fanciful idea would float around my dizzy head. I think it had to do with the fact that book-signings are just about the ...
So I’m spending a lot of time at Santa Monica’s main public library these days, and it’s completely fascinating. It’s actually the temporary main library, because they’re building a shiny new one a few blocks from here that won’t be finished until next year. But that’s by the by. ...