tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71205271921212383732024-03-19T06:23:57.635-04:00The Less United States of KuderaAlex Kudera’s award-winning novel, Fight for Your Long Day (Atticus Books), was drafted in a walk-in closet during a summer in Seoul, South Korea. Auggie’s Revenge (Beating Windward Press) is his second novel. His numerous short stories include “Frade Killed Ellen” (Dutch Kills Press), “Bombing from Above” (Heavy Feather Review), and “A Thanksgiving” (Eclectica Magazine).Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.comBlogger1472125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-63481005259485814742024-03-17T21:58:00.002-04:002024-03-17T21:58:48.632-04:00Tanzer et Ali<p><a href="https://www.tanzerben.com/blog/713-books-the-missing-ben-tanzer" target="_blank">Indie sensation Ben Tanzer</a> has <a href="https://713books.com/forthcoming/" target="_blank">a new novel</a>, and <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/this-podcast-will-change-your-life/id564098800" target="_blank">he also had a chance to</a> <a href="https://www.liu.edu/brooklyn/Academics/Faculty/Faculty/A/Syed-Ali?rn=Faculty%20Profiles" target="_blank">interview Syed Ali</a>, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123645156-the-peer-effect" target="_blank">a sociologist</a> and potter we both crossed paths with years ago in the Ultimate Frisbee scene. More soon!</p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-61244845826107122712024-03-16T03:07:00.000-04:002024-03-16T03:07:02.923-04:00bereft survivors<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="https://www.thenation.com/article/society/guernica-resignations/" target="_blank">"These men and women weren’t settler-colonizer overseers of a master race; they were the spat out, spat upon, vilified, starved victims of Imperial Russia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and of Nazi Germany a generation later, the survivors of an unprecedented industrial slaughter in which 6 million had been murdered. Many of them—when they arrived in Palestine, often bringing with them utopian, universalist, socialist beliefs—were emaciated and destitute. They were the bereft survivors of unspeakable horrors."</a></span></span></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-87208859309394322762024-03-12T01:04:00.000-04:002024-03-12T01:04:44.901-04:00art remains<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/781674-the-isms-go-the-ist-dies-art-remains" target="_blank">“The isms go, the ist dies, art remains”</a></span></p><p><a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Vladimir-Nabokov" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: inherit;">~~ </span><span class="authorOrTitle" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">Vladimir Nabokov</span></a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-53018809041676395452024-03-11T03:14:00.001-04:002024-03-11T03:30:31.977-04:00a single diaper<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1419; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtpGmTLfTDw" target="_blank">"Usually, our husbands had nothing to do with them. They never changed a single diaper. They never washed a dirty dish. They never touched a broom. In the evening, no matter how tired we were when we came in from the fields, they sat down and read the paper while we cooked dinner for the children and stayed up washing and mending piles of clothes until late."</a></span></span></p><div data-block="true" data-editor="dr4re" data-offset-key="5j9lh-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #0f1419; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="5j9lh-0-0" style="direction: ltr; overflow: hidden; padding-bottom: 2px; padding-top: 2px; position: relative;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtpGmTLfTDw" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">~~ from </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">The Buddha in the Attic</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> by Julie Otsuka</span></a></div></div>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-77445286039580770582024-03-09T20:59:00.000-05:002024-03-09T20:59:12.124-05:00An abominable religion<p><a href="https://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/1720/the-art-of-fiction-no-139-chinua-achebe" target="_blank">"'An abominable religion has settled among you. A man can now leave his father and his brothers. He can curse the gods of his fathers and his ancestors, like a hunter's dog that suddenly goes mad and turns on his master. I fear for you; I fear for the clan.' He turned again to Okonkwo and said, 'Thank you for calling us together.'"</a></p><p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/23/books/chinua-achebe-examined-colonialism-and-masculinity.html" target="_blank">~~ from <i>Things Fall Apart</i> by Chinua Achebe</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-24175210149098943742024-02-29T17:40:00.001-05:002024-02-29T17:40:26.033-05:00W. H. Auden<p><a href="https://www.commonwealmagazine.org/dust-dust"><span style="background-color: #f7f5f0; box-sizing: inherit; color: #1e1e1e; font-family: "Plantin W01", Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">"As a young man</span><span style="background-color: #f7f5f0; color: #1e1e1e; font-family: "Plantin W01", Georgia, Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">, W. H. Auden renounced his faith. He wrote his most popular poems during this period of unbelief in his native England—notably the rousing civil-war poem “Spain.” As such works skyrocketed him to fame, Auden recognized that he was being tempted into soaring rhetoric and sweeping moral judgments that failed to reflect the subtleties of real life. Believing such a performance to be unethical, he abjured his position as national icon and fled to America."</span></a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-79223665170802550142024-02-27T01:43:00.002-05:002024-03-09T20:58:29.703-05:00good riddance<p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/23/books/chinua-achebe-examined-colonialism-and-masculinity.html" target="_blank">"Nneka had had four previous pregnancies and childbirths. But each time she had borne twins, and they had been immediately thrown away. Her husband and his family were already becoming highly critical of such a woman and were not unduly perturbed when they found she had fled to join the Christians. It was a good riddance."</a></p><p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/23/books/chinua-achebe-examined-colonialism-and-masculinity.html" target="_blank">~~ from <i>Things Fall Apart</i> by Chinua Achebe</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-20166661614955091062024-02-22T07:12:00.002-05:002024-02-22T18:08:48.665-05:00Rabbit's last stop (sort of)<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_vCsWRLdwaW12iKDXybivlhLysBfl9Pq8JCpYJL9eDgV7pHpyhaBFh0ZVAfjPkjGEskoKaWZ5dj5j2GO1GtrHccofLJzcGGvrAb1Cx9_jiGuTxi4hQcdAEVObIFGd3wyBVQYlVKs9bfqgdsvZQYCGkTZnk3oRdJQinULOxW-h42U7ZMKNsiDF8i5Cjl-/s4000/20240218_152045.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2941" data-original-width="4000" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_vCsWRLdwaW12iKDXybivlhLysBfl9Pq8JCpYJL9eDgV7pHpyhaBFh0ZVAfjPkjGEskoKaWZ5dj5j2GO1GtrHccofLJzcGGvrAb1Cx9_jiGuTxi4hQcdAEVObIFGd3wyBVQYlVKs9bfqgdsvZQYCGkTZnk3oRdJQinULOxW-h42U7ZMKNsiDF8i5Cjl-/s320/20240218_152045.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit_at_Rest" target="_blank">from <i>Rabbit at Rest</i> by John Updike</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-23791808863818255032024-02-20T20:46:00.002-05:002024-02-20T20:46:37.782-05:00captured the bat<p><a href="https://www.plough.com/en/topics/faith/discipleship/christs-room" style="font-family: "Minion W01", Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif;" target="_blank">At first, it served my wife and me as our bedroom. On day two or three, I was hovering in that space between wake and sleep when I suddenly felt something hovering above my head. Resisting the urge to duck under my covers, I mustered all my courage, stood up, ran outside to get my fishing net, came back in, and boldly captured the bat, without waking my wife.</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-74695138868332932222024-02-13T06:25:00.002-05:002024-02-13T06:26:28.985-05:00the old Nazi<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1twdOHgxVSHvKfZ3DLR01hw_BahWYG_NPWRRSxR_7OnRm6q0rEHnGLSpOFzakyqXKPyqd__hRzK1XxOU8yPXi1rSEYefQVmPr0mjuWMD6OtDbjwM1csznvprZk0114T6VS5ixPKwhnqHB8v9_ZLXufiqixyPgLfn8A2_C5mv59zlgedvxy6ududUlPVo/s4000/20240213_060843.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1twdOHgxVSHvKfZ3DLR01hw_BahWYG_NPWRRSxR_7OnRm6q0rEHnGLSpOFzakyqXKPyqd__hRzK1XxOU8yPXi1rSEYefQVmPr0mjuWMD6OtDbjwM1csznvprZk0114T6VS5ixPKwhnqHB8v9_ZLXufiqixyPgLfn8A2_C5mv59zlgedvxy6ududUlPVo/w400-h300/20240213_060843.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Be Mine by Richard Ford</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-67889961336303027772024-02-04T14:02:00.000-05:002024-02-04T14:02:09.729-05:00He liked to be alone<p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2008/aug/11/poetry.israelandthepalestinians" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; color: #121212; font-family: GuardianTextEgyptian, "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures;">"</span><strong style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #121212; font-family: GuardianTextEgyptian, "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Margaret Obank writes:</strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #121212; font-family: GuardianTextEgyptian, "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures;"> Mahmoud was a completely secular person, rather philosophical, an avid reader, elegant in his dress, and supremely modest in his opinion of himself. He liked to be alone, but would always be ready to speak on the telephone.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #121212; font-family: GuardianTextEgyptian, "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures;">"</span></a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-51457002480745119042024-02-03T21:17:00.000-05:002024-02-03T21:17:36.085-05:00From Detroit"From Detroit, when I told her semi-coherently what little I knew about Paul's situation, she seemed glad to hear from me, was completely ready to step in and seemed to know all that was required. She, for starters, wasn't satisfied with the evaluation at Cornell. ("Cursory at best. This is much too serious.") These first-rate specialists only trust their own--their own nurses, techs, phlebotomists, scanners, pipettes, blood pressure cuffs, etc. Medicine, in most ways, is not a science <i>or</i> an art, but a guildish freemasonry extending back to black mysteries and necromancy. I'm okay with it."<div><br /></div><div>~~ from <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jun/21/be-mine-by-richard-ford-review-america-the-fools-paradise" target="_blank"><i>Be Mine: A Frank Bascombe Novel</i> </a>by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7849.Richard_Ford" target="_blank">Richard Ford</a></div>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-84807898623286795182024-01-20T00:17:00.001-05:002024-02-01T17:27:25.199-05:00The idea of choice"The idea of choice in most things is of course a feathery lie of western philosophy. Selling houses lets you know it. <i>There</i>, humans regularly choose then unchoose, choose then regret choosing, choose then rechoose, resist choosing, then choose wrong and learn to like it. Choice usually isn't choice, only what you're left with."<div><br /></div><div>~~ from <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jun/21/be-mine-by-richard-ford-review-america-the-fools-paradise" target="_blank"><i>Be Mine: A Frank Bascombe Novel</i> </a>by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7849.Richard_Ford" target="_blank">Richard Ford</a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-86201405835216177152024-01-15T07:18:00.004-05:002024-01-15T07:18:57.164-05:00When Soldiers Come Home<p><a href="https://harpers.org/archive/2024/01/matt-farwell-the-museum-of-broken-g-i-joes/" target="_blank">From the January 2024 <i>Harper's Magazine</i>, I read Matt Farwell's "The Museum of Broken G.I. Joes."</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-88874874948940801142024-01-04T20:35:00.002-05:002024-01-20T00:22:59.848-05:00There is no was.<p>"She even quoted that scrofulous old faker <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Faulkner" target="_blank">[William] Faulkner</a> . . . when she said, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/392594-there-is-no-such-thing-as-was-only-is-if-was" target="_blank">'There is no <i>was</i>. There is only <i>is</i>.'"</a></p><p>~~ from <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jun/21/be-mine-by-richard-ford-review-america-the-fools-paradise" target="_blank"><i>Be Mine: A Frank Bascombe Novel</i> </a>by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7849.Richard_Ford" target="_blank">Richard Ford</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-6708346322892599112023-12-30T23:15:00.002-05:002024-01-04T20:36:00.856-05:00the Old Oaken Slop-pot<p>"When I reached the Delta gate in Marquette—having stabilized to a fugue state of grief mixed with low-grade aspiration regarding timely questions relevant to what <i>now</i> for me, or what <i>ever</i>—the waiting area was a-thrive with activity. The Northern Michigan University Fighting Bull-Bats were a day away from playing the archrival, Wisconsin<span style="font-size: 20px;">-</span>Eau Claire Anvil Heads in a pigskin contest to decide the Peckerwood League Championship and who would bring home the Old Oaken Slop-pot and go on to the Clinker Bowl in Duluth on <a href="https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/other/what-are-the-new-years-6-college-football-bowl-games/ar-AA1m9vPZ" target="_blank">New Year's day</a>, when the fate of the world would be decided."</p><p>~~ from <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/jun/21/be-mine-by-richard-ford-review-america-the-fools-paradise" target="_blank"><i>Be Mine: A Frank Bascombe Novel</i> </a>by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7849.Richard_Ford" target="_blank">Richard Ford</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-72160259142600749762023-12-25T01:02:00.002-05:002023-12-25T01:02:31.714-05:00Christmas Day<p><a href="https://twitter.com/kudera/status/1657561282218795009" target="_blank">Merry Christmas!</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-47427332306006869382023-12-21T20:10:00.002-05:002023-12-21T20:10:46.216-05:00to become a human being<p><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53492652-an-apprenticeship-or-the-book-of-pleasures" target="_blank">"A human being's most pressing need was to become a human being."</a></p><p><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53492652-an-apprenticeship-or-the-book-of-pleasures" target="_blank">~~ from <i>An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures</i> by Clarice Lispector</a> </p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-52041790131738030242023-12-12T20:33:00.000-05:002023-12-12T20:33:15.671-05:00Self Portrait at Twenty Years by Roberto Bolano<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I set off, I took up the march and never knew<br /></span>where it might take me. I went full of fear,<br />my stomach dropped, my head was buzzing:<br />I think it was the icy wind of the dead.<br />I don’t know. I set off, I thought it was a shame<br />to leave so soon, but at the same time<br />I heard that mysterious and convincing call.<br />You either listen or you don’t, and I listened<br />and almost burst out crying: a terrible sound,<br />born on the air and in the sea.<br />A sword and shield. And then,<br />despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek<br />against death’s cheek.<br />And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing<br />that strange spectacle, slow and strange,<br />though fixed in such a swift reality:<br />thousands of guys like me, baby-faced<br />or bearded, but Latin American, all of us,<br />brushing cheeks with death.</div><p style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a href="https://www.threepennyreview.com/self-portrait-at-twenty-years/" target="_blank"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: 600; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">—Roberto Bolaño</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: 600; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">(translated from the Spanish by Laura Healy)</span></a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-47577330419169283242023-12-08T23:10:00.001-05:002023-12-08T23:10:18.781-05:00the sweet gentleness of Europe<p>"I was a little shaken . . . in fact, I'd had rotten shock! . . . that's right, a shock . . . the whole of Europe on my ass . . . yes, the whole of Europe . . . plus my friends . . . my family . . . all competing to see who could grab more away from me . . . not leaving me time to say boo . . . my eyes! . . . my nose! . . . my fountain pen . . . the ferocity of Europe! . . . the Nazis were no lovebirds, but don't tell me about the sweet gentleness of Europe . . . I'm not exaggerating . . . that little warrant . . . and all those public prosecutors . . ."</p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castle_to_Castle" target="_blank">~~ from <i>Castle to Castle</i></a> <a href="https://kudera.blogspot.com/search?q=louis-ferdinand+celine" target="_blank">by Louis-Ferdinand Celine</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-30717468087199492162023-11-26T06:18:00.004-05:002023-11-28T21:05:11.641-05:00a delicious kabob<p>"Between wild fits of laughter, Johnson shouted orders. Samuel Doe's heart was removed. One of the officers ate some human flesh to make himself look more cruel, more brutal, more barbarous and inhuman — real, genuine human flesh. Samuel Doe's heart was put to one side for the officer so he could make a delicious kabob out of it."</p><p> ~~ from <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/540864.Allah_Is_Not_Obliged" target="_blank">Allah Is Not Obliged</a></i> by <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ahmadou-Kourouma" target="_blank">Ahmadou Kourouma</a></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-39433228778643789592023-11-24T13:21:00.002-05:002023-11-25T06:47:05.033-05:00free shipping on Black Friday<p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 17px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://bookshop.org/contributors/alex-kudera" target="_blank">Buy novels on Black Friday and beyond</a>.</span></p><span class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3" face="TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0f1419; display: inline; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-overflow: unset; white-space-collapse: preserve;">
</span><a class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3 r-1loqt21" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/XdLmKBmbi9" rel="noopener noreferrer nofollow" role="link" style="background-color: white; border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d9bf0; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-overflow: unset; white-space-collapse: preserve;" target="_blank"><span aria-hidden="true" class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3 r-hiw28u r-qvk6io" color="inherit" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-overflow: unset; white-space: inherit;">https:</span><span aria-hidden="true" class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3 r-hiw28u r-qvk6io" color="inherit" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-overflow: unset; white-space: inherit;">lex-kudera</span></a>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-43572069017566328162023-11-21T17:43:00.000-05:002023-11-21T17:43:31.187-05:00attending to my paces<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif; font-size: 20px; text-indent: 48px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://soyosshorts.blogspot.com/2023/11/going-to-hell-alex-kudera.html" target="_blank">"I did not have so much, but I was intact. I had a ceiling fan and an unremarkable kitchen. I paid rent on time and was aware of the possibility that I’d earned what I had. I had helped a child through college and a year of graduate training, a newer normal, and I didn’t like sharing my walking space with undesirables who had never supported the arts with a paid museum membership. Inhaling the foul odors of the unhoused—or even those climate zealots using God-knows-what to seal themselves to the Monet, Klimt, or Klee—would never be for me. No, sir.</a></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif; font-size: 20px; text-indent: 48px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://soyosshorts.blogspot.com/2023/11/going-to-hell-alex-kudera.html" target="_blank">"And so, I came to recognize that I would no longer be striding through the museum on searing hot days. Climbing the great marble stairs would be for someone else, not for me. I would have to find another way of avoiding skin cancer while attending to my paces." </a></span></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-74222305319078073272023-11-18T20:26:00.000-05:002023-11-18T20:26:11.873-05:00Poverty House<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.povertyhouse.net/post/doctor-s-orders---dan-russell" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: #f1f8f8;">"</span><span style="background-color: #f1f8f8; white-space-collapse: preserve;">When you get older, nobody tells you things get real uncomfortable real quick. I ain’t just talking about body aches and shit like that. I mean everything. It all seems to pile up like the junk at old Fred and Lamont’s. Dishes stay piled up in the sink. There are crumbs and stains on the countertop. Dirty clothes left lying around like the rapture jerked out the folks wearing them and left the clothes to fall where they may. You just get tired. Too tired to care."</span></a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f1f8f8; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://www.povertyhouse.net/post/doctor-s-orders---dan-russell" target="_blank">~~ from "Doctor's Orders" by Dan Russell</a></span></span></p>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7120527192121238373.post-49660443595526912382023-11-15T18:22:00.003-05:002023-11-15T18:22:53.372-05:00an original novel<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif; font-size: 20px; text-indent: 48px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://soyosshorts.blogspot.com/2023/11/going-to-hell-alex-kudera.html" target="_blank"><span>"</span>Back at my studio and seeking punishment, I set to pricking my arms with a paperclip. But that wasn’t enough, so I picked up the next thing I could find; it happened to be my first novel. I began slamming it against the side of my head—again and again—but that was no good either. Years ago, I had been an aspiring man of the people, and I’d talked the publisher out of hardcover, so that we’d put into print a book that the masses could afford—but now this beneficence was interfering with my progress. Against my skull, I slammed an original novel unable to leave any lasting damage."</a></span></p><div><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif; font-size: 20px; text-indent: 48px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></div>Alex Kuderahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00785071321375071866noreply@blogger.com0