So...I forgot about this...

I haven't finished Murakami's newest book yet, but it is small, swift, and engrossing, like he mixed his style with, eh, Denis Johnson's short-fiction density.

Anyway, two years back when I was laid up on the couch I started many blogs. This particular forum is one of the results of that time, as is "Sherwood and Sons." I'm pretty sure if anyone knew about all of them it would be you.

There was one particular spot, though, that I don't think I told anybody about.

I started a Tumblr site in addition to all of the Blogger sites, but it was where I showcased new fiction.

One of the things about my Blogger-hosted blogs was that they are all non-fiction---either artsy discussions, observational motivations, adventure summations, or random brainal verbal diarrhea---but they were all certainly and purposefully NON-fiction.

My fiction was always too special for me to post for the world to consume for free.

But then...I was laid up on the couch and I had a brain bursting at the seams with things to say. I had a character and a setting and a rambling premise that could have, I thought at the time, been milked easily each week for a tiny bit more, getting towards my final goal. Actually, all that's still the case.

But that's beyond me at this current juncture.

As it is, there are only two chapters. There are specific references throughout both of them: the city, the hostel, the bar, the protagonist's name and look, the bartender...almost too much stuff.

Ask Dan about a little project we each wrote for together back in the day---it was part of the unspoken and mysterious background to the intrigue in the second chapter.

I stumbled upon the link and was reminded of the two parts the other day. I read through them for the first time in more than two years, and, well, I was mostly happily surprised.

I think if you get to them, you may like 'em.

So, here're the links for the first two chapters of "Searching for Daniel Traf:"

Chapter 1: Talking About His Hair
Chapter 2: Bike Accessible

Been waiting for this...maybe a bit more...

I'll be getting to this sometime in the future, but time is tight...

The team that Murakami has at his American publishing house is simply phenomenal. This dust cover has cellophane windows that show the colors and subway map design underneath:

This is a beautiful artifact and Murakami's most sexually charged and possibly most complex narrative structure to date. I'm not done, but it is actually quite small. It isn't a normal size, especially for a hard-back book, but I don't have a good enough comparison picture yet.

Coming Soon...

December 12th, 2014...

Too, too excited...check me out!

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage: A novel

Just thought I'd leave this here.

Released today, but I've been stuck in Portola.  Plan on picking it up tomorrow.

Trout Shoes

I thought of you when I saw this, Norm...

The baseball All-Star game happened just recently (literally yesterday as of this post), and for the All-Star game, the bosses loosened the rules on what ball-players could wear in regards to shoes and cleats. It seems like a silly concession, but it looked like so many players just love neon colors that the decision would be considered a success by those bosses.

Currently in baseball the best player is also one of the youngest, a giant of a young man playing in the outfield down here for the Angels. His name is Mike Trout. Instead of neon cleats and shoes, he wore:

Rainbow trout colored baseball cleats...

At the Cabin

I'll have more to say on this some time later...but:

And:

Cuteness...

Missed it...Happy Birthday to the Norms

I missed both of you boys on all of the sites...

Happy Birthday Norm (III) and Happy Birthday Norman (IV)! I hope, Norm, your travails along the rails were as enlightening as I imagine the zen-like time could be.

I'm looking forward to seeing you two in a few weeks, up at the Cabin. I have a small writing project I'm working on to leave up there...a somewhat fictional gonzo treatment of a week in the life of a, eh, resident T.

Norman, Chilling--eyes on the sea-bass...

Until next time...