Tag: friends

Why I’m still on myspace, or: bulletin of the day

From: Hastur

Date: May 20, 2006 1:38 PM
Subject: Coming soon to a bulletin near you!
Body: In consultations with various worthies who attempt to peer beyond the veils of your universe and into the next (all in vain), I, the benevolent Hastur, have decided to begin an expose’ of otherworldly existence for your edification.

Each week Hastur will take you to a different corner of the dark cosmos. Thus you may puruse and be enlightened about some of the most ancient and benighted secrets that mankind has not even the slightest inkling of concering their true nature.

See where the Outer Gods and Great Old Ones work dilligently at their “day jobs”. Finally learn the shocking, mind-numbing truth concerning the creation of your universe, how it works, and why you are all here.

Summer independent study course credit at your institutions of higher learning will be offered, if you can convince the sloping, apelike foreheads who run your schools to accept it.

Your money cheerfully refunded (keep your receipts) if not delighted.

Sincerely,
Hastur the Unspeakable

Whoa. Blast from the past.

I was reminded of someone today I hadn’t thought about in years. When I was a yuffie in L.A., maybe 1991 or so, I met this woman through friends. She was a little younger than me, maybe 21 to my 26, and she was a poet. She’d had some local success getting reading gigs, putting out a chapbook etc. We talked on the phone a bit and then hung out some, went to dinner. She appeared to lose interest in me as a friend as soon as it was clear we weren’t going to be dating.

She was attractive in a number of ways: hyperintelligent, book-crazy, talkative. I was kind of sad to see her fade away. She was also a 21-year-old poet, so self-obsessed and nutty. I remember talking to her about the UCI writing program, because my dad was just retiring from teaching in it.

So I hadn’t thought about her forever, and then the subject of the dreariness of rural Illinois came up, which is where she was from. And I googled her. Holy cats, she’s a professor in England now! She also has some poetry online at the Shearsman site here and also here.

Still cute too. 🙂 Glad she made a living out of it. The soybean harvest didn’t sound fun.

ripples

One of my dad’s former students and a family friend is Marti Leimbach. She has been a successful novelist since the MFA program, with one of those kaboom debuts. Her first novel was Dying Young, which was not only a very good book but was made into a movie, causing fame and money, etc. (The book is way better than the movie for anyone who only knows the latter.)

Looks like she’s going to make another big dent with her newest, Daniel Isn’t Talking. It’s really great to see Dad’s friends and students doing so well. Thirteen years after his death, you can see the effect of teaching and mentoring continue.