You guys know this isn’t my job, right? I feel awkward saying it again, but some people still don’t seem to realize: the site is a hobby. Of course I’m always glad to hear from readers, but I don’t wait in suspended animation for email and books to arrive. My actual job is incredibly glamorous. I sit within the . . .
An Indianapolis theater company held a staged reading of Kurt Vonnegut’s self-described “simple-minded play about men who enjoy killing.”
Textbook publishers: charging “outrageous prices for new textbooks while simultaneously doing everything [they] can to make older versions unusable or obsolete.”
About 150 books arrive in the mail every month. It gets hard to walk around my apartment. So I relate to the necessity — and impossibility — of culling.