England has always reveled in its drawing-room dramas, from Jane Austen’s social minefields to E.M. Forster’s Howards End to Upstairs, Downstairs — and yes, the blockbuster Downton Abbey. John Lanchester’s brilliant Capital, set on a once-ordinary London block whose housing prices have skyrocketed, has the distinction of being the first brick-and-mortar novel set squarely in our current times.
The Paper Chase
Posted by Lizzie on 09/30/05
Our sister just asked us to bring home a bunch of our non-recycled New Yorkers for Rosh Hashona, which reminds us not only of the eighty or so we haven’t read yet, but of the eighty others we tossed in the bathroom garbage after making sure we’d read what we wanted just to get them the hell off of our plate. We’re feeling a terrible ache about giving those unread ones up, yet the sight of them is so guilt-inducing, that, however hard, we’re going to follow the edict of simply chucking anything you haven’t accomplished in six months* in the interest of sanity. In other news, we’ve filled out 39 forms filing for payback even though we’re fairly sure we own no copyrights and, if we do, are due about $67, and we’ve spent the past two days in Xeroxing hell, assembling our puny life accomplishments into a pile of collated splendor for the edification of those who probably want to go home and watch America’s Next Top Model. (Okay, we’re projecting there.) We have a pile of sixty-thousand review copies, and all we want to do is reread Wharton and Forster, with some Candace Bushnell in for good measure (if anyone will send us a review copy of Lipstick Jungle too, that is). The book already written has triggered an avalanche of anxiety over the books not yet even vaguely approaching a heap of notes. When you’re reduced to a pile of quivering jelly over something David Remnick did, either the meds are not working or it’s time to take a break (probably both). We’ll be back once the flap copy seems less accusatory. We’ve also got some wonderful guest-bloggers lined up, who will undoubtedly have more to share than a paroxysm of guilt over completely self-induced, insignificant items. Or, at least, they will bust out with some different items. Smell you later.
* Boy, do we love us some Lifehacker. However, it is designed for those who can ruthlessly reduce even the most inconsequential aspects of their lives to shining efficacy. We, as we clearly stated above, CANNOT EVEN GET THROUGH OUR NEW YORKERS. They rhapsodize over Moleskine notebooks, we second-guess what we’ve eaten for breakfast. They have this thing called Quicksilver, we have this thing called an angry God. Still, we enjoy watching them, like one yearns for the swank IKEA kitchen of the neighbor across the way while contemplating one’s own battered frying pan. Lifehacker**, can you design some task-management system for those who regret what hasn’t even happened yet? We mean, for writers? Thanks.
** We send these pleas out to Gina all the time and think she either assumes we are joking (untrue) or is totally not reading us (true). But writers need help. Seriously, we’re the blind leading the blind over here. Get some of those Moleskine people on it, stat.
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Not to put too fine a point on it, but isn’t “$67 dollars” redundant?
See, this is what I’m talking about with needing some Moleskine people in the mix.
“we’re going to follow the edict of simply chucking anything you haven’t accomplished in six months”–truly the best edict EVER. Love it.
Some people keep it to two weeks, but I can only gaze at such life mastery from afar.
I am reading, and I do think you’re joking, because I always wind up giggling at your pleas and my amusement totally sends me off the rails of finding you a solution.
In general, I’d suggest some deep breathing and daily meditation. Forget the New Yorker, it’s too pretentious anyway.
Ok, kidding.
My personal favorite task management system for writers is called WordPerfect 6.2, retro fullscreen old school DOS mode blue background white text with no allowance for all the Word geegaws, popping IM windows, grin-worthy weblogs (hint, hint), and email notifications.
Give it a try. :)
You know, we are so pathetic that we had no idea that Word could integrate anything like websites or IMs in the first place.
But you make a good point, which is that, since we’ve had the web at home, we’ve written nothing. *strokes mouse thoughtfully*. (We were totally blaming the BOOG, too.) We need to make a blog-free writing space somehow, which will be difficult, as Baltimore is getting more wiring than the Unibomber every day. It’s straight-up notebook (the paper kind) time again, and hardcore. (No way we’re using a damn “typewriter”.) And deep breathing.
WE LOVE YOU LIFEHACKER!!!!!!!!!!!!