Ian Williams's blog

I figure I should keep a list of books I want somewhere on this site. I haven't organized where yet, so let this be a temporary spot.

You know what? I'm going to make this easy for you. If you need another item to get free shipping on your order or if you're looking to get me something but you just can't be bothered to think about the arcane desires of Ian Williams, then just consult this list-to-be.

1. Nora Young's The Virtual Self. ISBN: 978-0-7710-7064-8

1. From NPR. The answer turns out to be no: "Can A Computer Grade Essays As Well As A Human? Maybe Even Better, Study Says."

2. From NYT. This one requires more discussion: Sherry Turkle's "The Flight From Conversation." I've begun my last two readings for Personals by quoting this paragraph:

We’ve become accustomed to a new way of being “alone together.” Technology-enabled, we are able to be with one another, and also elsewhere, connected to wherever we want to be. We want to customize our lives. We want to move in and out of where we are because the thing we value most is control over where we focus our attention.

There'll be a few lasts over the next few weeks. I taught my last class in prison a few days ago.  Courtney and I (Cuff was tied up with official Boston College business) brought in copies of Route 2 for the prisoners because they were, after all, published therein (yeah, I said it), but we weren't allowed to give them to the inmates ourselves. The journals had to be added to their property lists, we were told, and guards would distribute them.

Here's one of my favourite moments from the semester. One prisoner who is extremely eloquent had finished making an elaborate point and there was the usual stunned silence afterward when another prisoner, known for his wry, expressionless delivery, said, "Somebody give this man a sticker."

Anyhow, the prisoners made all three of us certificates of appreciation. That's a pretty difficult thing to do in prison. I don't think we're actually allowed to give them stickers.

There's a great article in May's Atlantic by Stephen Marche, "Is Facebook Making Us Lonely?" Remember a few years ago when The Atlantic came out with "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" Yeah, me neither. I mean, I didn't, well, until I did. Point made, Atlantic.

Stephen and I were actually in grad school together back at University of Toronto. He sat in the back left corner of the square of desks in Professor Dixon's Rhetorical Theory and Renaissance Literature. He'd rock back in his chair and take it all in, then he'd lean forward and make some brilliant point, usually two per class, but they were always original and effortless and shattering.

It's no surprise he's ascending. Nice guy too, which makes it impossible to write beyond this sentence.

If I were on Facebook, my status would be something like My life is incredible: a new book, a great publisher, a satisfying job, and you'd secretly hate me.

It may be a sign of maturity that I didn't record myself opening the package, though, truthfully, I considered it. I kept the package in my line of vision, just behind the laptop, until I finished whatever tedious and forgettable bit of business I was doing. I am good at delaying gratification.

When I opened it and saw my books, my spine turned into a fizzing sparkler. In that moment, the extinction of the printed book seemed as unlikely as the extinction of children. Natalie, the designer, reminds us of the pleasure of travelling over and through a book. How many metaphors have I mixed in this paragraph. That jumble is what I felt. Good save.

The launch was lovely at the Gladstone. Thanks for coming if you came. My fellow readers and I made a good thematic group, and in all three books, I see Robyn Read's orchestration. She has the taste of the great old reviewers, that sense of what the public can handle and what's good for the public too--she's adventurous in her selections, takes smart risks. She should go around Canada creating book lists for school boards. I bet you kids would read more if she did.

Sarah Ivany organized the event and basically all I had to do was show up. If Robyn's creating book lists, then Sarah would somehow make sure every kid in Canada has an affordable copy of the book along with warm milk, warm cookies, and a sticker when they get through the book.

FREEHAND BOOKS HOSTS SPRING BASH AT THE GLADSTONE HOTEL

Tracy K. Smith, a friend of a friend, of several friends, in fact, won the Pulitzer for poetry today. On her birthday. She should buy me a lottery ticket.

No fiction prize was awarded. Is it worse a) not to be nominated at all, b) to be nominated and lose to someone alive, c) to be nominated and lose to someone dead, or d) to be nominated and lose to a quality control standard?

Brush with greatness #2: Yesterday, I went to the Emily Dickinson house in Amherst. I wanted a lavish period recreation of Dickinson's life, complete with partly sliced loaf of bread and jellied knife. I wanted the tour guide to shade her mouth and whisper the intrigues of Dickinson's life, as if Dickinson might enter the room and catch us gossiping at any point, but she didn't dish.

You can't take pictures of the dress.

I had to stop and do something else, which was simply sitting and looking out the window at the greys in the sky.

Leisure is a privilege. The plain of phalanges against my cheek is a privilege.

The trees are chirping with tiny shoots here and I imagine a little girl in a blue pinafore eating a bowl of rice somewhere in Africa.

I just discovered a new addiction for nerdy word lovers who did well in school and require approval from standardized tests and also pride themselves on their social consciences: www.freerice.com.

For every SAT-type question you answer correctly, someone in a developing country gets ten grains of rice.

Okay, don't interrogate the concept too much. Maybe I could feed a kid each day with:

gibberish means:

• sieve
• endangerment
• male horse
• babble

Stop looking for irony.