I’ve been trudging though Light in August by William Faulkner (which sounds so nice, doesn’t it?) and had to put it down because I was getting depressed. I loved the new be-seen-reading novel Freedom by Jonathan Franzen and read it in a week. I was lucky enough to take a plane ride right after it came out and got to cradle it to myself the whole time and glared at the attendants when they interrupted me (“yes, I’ll take a bloody mary, please. *sigh* yes I have my ID.”). Franzen writes like John Updike did—attempting to sum up whole generations and complicated stories. His characters always stick with me. Next up: David Sedaris’ new book, and his first ever fiction, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk. I was getting a little sick of the “this is a true story” bit, and I’m looking forward to reading something unabashedly made up by him. And then (!) Nora Ephron’s memoir I Remember Nothing. I love the way she writes. I read I Feel Bad about My Neck like three times. She is my writing icon. Comes out November 9th.

Photo is an old Kate Spade ad, of course.

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