the book is dead! long live the book!

Who said the book is dead? The New York Times has a great article on David Sedaris, a rock star of a writer who seems to have kept it real, if you know what I mean. (Well, I think Jim knows what I mean, anyway.) Here's a sample of the article, in case the link expires ("Mr. Glass" is Ira Glass, the radio journalist who discovered Sedaris). I put my favorite part in bold:

"After his second book, he went through a real crisis of, `What do I write about now? And who am I?' " Mr. Glass said. "He got very scientific about the problem." One solution, Mr. Glass said, was for to move to France with his partner, Hugh Hamrick, a painter, even though he spoke no French.

"He was having humiliating experiences, and it felt more right than living in New York and answering calls from David Letterman," Mr. Glass said. "It's like somehow he's been able to preserve the work habits of a really unsuccessful writer well into his success."

If David Sedaris is really the way that article says he is, I wanna be him and Ira Glass when I grow up. (And, as always, try Bugmenot iffen you don't have an account with the NYT.)

On the other hand, the Seattle Times had an article about an author who wrote a book designed never to be read. Here's a summary:

Jackson is publishing her latest story on the backs, legs, arms, necks and feet of eager volunteers — in the form of single-word tattoos. .... After evaluating applicants' personal statements, Jackson assigns the words one at a time, in the order of the story, and including any adjacent punctuation marks. Accepted parties must acquire and pay for the tattoos on their own, sending a photo to Jackson as proof. The full text will not be published anywhere else, even in summary. Only participants, sworn to secrecy, will be told the story in its entirety, and only after all the tattoos have been etched in ink.

I mean, I love modern art, but maybe I'm missing the point of publishing a story designed never to be read?