The best high is a new novel. Especially when you can mosey on over and enjoy it by beautiful Lake Merritt. In my humble opinion, LMC (Lake Merritt California) is sometimes more eventful, always more wholesome, and never as cold as Dolores Park.
I still haven’t found a descent soundtrack for my new book. I lucked out on my last reads. Little Dragon’s “Ritual Union” was the perfect backdrop to the strange futuristic chaos of the Hunger Games Trilogy. On the other hand, “This is how you lose her” needed no soundtrack. I was too preoccupied looking over my shoulder on the daily BART commute. Worried about who was peeking at Junot Diaz’ raw and shameless words like pussy and culo. I appreciate those words when used to display a very real issue in human interaction. If you haven’t read it, read it!
I just delved into “Americanah”. I’ve been ecstatic since reading in May’s Vogue that the debut of Chinamanda Ngozi Adichie latest novel was upon us. I instantly went back to the pages of “Half of a yellow sun” where I marked my favorite quotes in pencil. Page 135, I simply scratched beautiful next to:
This was love: a string of coincidences that gathered significance and became miracles.
So far, Americanah is tackling the highly personal regime of black hair maintenance and the controversy of natural vs. weave. I covet this sort of honest reflection of self. Adichie is doing a marvelous job at creating a story set in modern Boston, Nigeria, and any other place she takes me; where stereotypes, racism, unreliable public transportation, texting, facebook, and, ironically, blogging are the norm.
Excited to read onward.