a couple from moleskinerie

I know, I know, I’m supposed to be reading all these cool writer blogs, right? Because every writer and the mom that gave birth to her has a blog these days. Well, expectations be damned, because, lemme tell ya a little secret: Moleskinerie is just about the only blog I read consistently, if I read anything consistently at all, which I don’t. I mean, I try to be a good soldier, I do, but let’s be honest.

Anyway, Moleskinerie gives up the goods with this craziness right here:

The Writer In The Garden

I have a total crush on the British Library.

(Memo to self: post this on the Endicott boards, which are getting more and more traffic all the time; must post about s00j too.)

Also by way of Moleskinerie comes Papertif, which just might spell the end of my disposable income as we know it. I mean, you have no idea just how much of a sucker I am for this kind of thing. Brilliant.

I should start a notebooks category (look to your left, if you’re reading this off the actual web page, which no one is).

In other news, I had a very vivid, horrifying dream that Leland was kidnapped by some crazy people who’d mistaken him for Dionysus (I know, I know, it’s an easy mistake, I could hardly be angry about it, except for the blood sacrifice). Warren Ellis was involved in some odd, marginal way that is now somewhat unclear. My knitting got left in the rain by the side of the road. I was flying through the air, but kept bumping into the sky’s ceiling. What does it all mean? (Don’t answer that, Dr. Freud.)

I have thoughts bubbling about the full Tarot immersion weekend that’s coming, right around the corner, but no time to get them down. Patience, grasshoppers.