Kyle Beachy's Blog, page 2

Friday Night, Book Cellar

Many thanks to Patrick Somerville for inviting me along for The Pale King release event Friday night at Chicago's perfect Book Cellar. Details here, but know that Adam Levin is reading, he behind the gigantic and unanimously adored The Instructions, and Marcus Sakey, a man I do not know from Adam(s) but look forward to meeting, and Jon Baskin, whose essay on Wallace I taught the shit out of a year ago in my large, terrifying Infinite Jest class at SAIC.

The event is free and will surely be full of laughter and insight, our Chicago take on events scheduled around the country to celebrate this rather phenomenal piece of literature (see extensive thoughts on the book below). Hope to see you.

The Pale King

I was fortunate enough to get a copy of The Pale King a few weeks back. Once finished, I began writing a review that, in addressing less the content of the book as its place in our larger understanding of Wallace and his work, became quite long. Meaning, that is, the book's place in this particular reader's (my) understanding of his work. Thank you to everyone who's read it already and those who've circulated it. It's a very good book, but not a novel, I don't think, and to write about it was a hugely satisfying and challenging thing to do. Thanks, too, to St. Louis Magazine for continuing to give me a venue for these reviews.

Here is the review.

On a related note, this Leland de la Durantaye piece in the Boston Review is incredibly insightful and smart and certainly worth our time.

Iowagain

This Saturday I'm following Quickies! to Iowa City, town of towns, for a reading that's part of this year's Mission Creek Festival. Part of a lit crawl format, I believe? Some fine fine people will read, and none of us for more than four minutes. Then I'll just post up at George's for the remainder of the time, loving it.

Iowagain

This Saturday I’m following Quickies! to Iowa City, town of towns, for a reading that’s part of this year’s Mission Creek Festival. Part of a lit crawl format, I believe? Some fine fine people will read, and none of us for more than four minutes. Then I’ll just post up at George’s for the remainder of the time, loving it.

Tamale Tamale Tamale Tamale

Friends, this Saturday night I'll read at The Tamale Hut Cafe, which if you're a Chicagoan here's proof it's not all that far, so what say you we hop into the Jetta, crank some whatever it is this week, and have us a jaunt! I will read from The Slide and also from the novel in progress, a new chapter. Looking very much forward to it…

And there's news to share and a schedule of upcoming interesting events, good times, all of it coming real soon. For now let's focus on tamales…

Tamale Tamale Tamale Tamale

Friends, this Saturday night I’ll read at The Tamale Hut Cafe, which if you’re a Chicagoan here’s proof it’s not all that far, so what say you we hop into the Jetta, crank some whatever it is this week, and have us a jaunt! I will read from The Slide and also from the novel in progress, a new chapter. Looking very much forward to it…

And there’s news to share and a schedule of upcoming interesting events, good times, all of it coming real soon. For now let’s focus on tamales…

Folks on Backs

Here is the photo I used for the essay that will appear in the the My Parents Were Awesome book in a couple months. The point here is give folks a chance to revel as I reveled in the photo, staring deep into it and noticing whatever I could.

I Have Been Thinking About Albert Pujols Frequently and With Vigor

A calculated risk: allow the man to go to free agency on the logic that there's little chance he'll be seen next year as worth somehow more than he is currently. He could suffer from the pressure and see his average fall, or he'll boot some grounders in the field, but the latter seems only slightly more likely than the former, and neither will will happen. His elbow could sit him eight or nine games and raise vague but nagging concerns, little voicelets in the ears of the moneymen. Birds swarm over his head and confuse him, and they're birds only he can see, so those among us who aren't true believers begin to wonder if he's actually been crazy, and indeed it happens before our eyes, his beard growing long and feral. Finally it could be a different year financially. I have no idea who other free agents there'll be. But perhaps they'll command smaller figures than Werth and Howard and Crawford. Gonzalez is a factor, I guess.

I think about Albert Pujols in the morning and sometimes late at night. Bower says, "nothing will be done, only speculation / by a lot of idiots / myself included(.)" Then he'll end up right where he is.

Take Pictures of Your Food

After many helpless hours dragging and trimming and wishing I had any idea what I'm doing, I am happy and just a sliver short of proud to present to you the second of what is certain to be three or maybe four skateboarding videos made by me. I've titled it, "Take Pictures of Your Food," and I hope you enjoy.

Take Pictures of Your Food from Edsel Denk on Vimeo.

The Extent of Our Decline

I'm grateful to Matt Bell for including my essay, "The Extent of Our Decline," in January's issue of The Collagist, their 18th issue and a very good one, full of very good stories and poems and reviews. My contribution takes on Tom Junod and David Shields and their rather silly shared notion that "the" novel can no longer capture the essence of our epoch.

Here is a link to the essay, which will also appear the anthology The Late American Novel: Writers on the Future of Books, edited by C. Max Magee, of The Millions, and Jeff Martin, of this. The anthology appears in March of this year and features a whole slew of names I won't list, but rest assured are far more impressive than my own. Enjoy them all. Enjoy enjoying them. Enjoy everything.