April Lindner

Like my desk, the inside of my head is a jumble today, of all the things I want to get done in the measly time I have to do them in.  Maybe it's the caffeine, but as I was driving around this morning, ideas for future novels were pinging around urgently in my head.  Not to mention the blog posts I've been planning: an interview with photographer Howard Dinin about his new book Sitting , and a write-up of last weekend's concert, with  Fountains of Wayne, Soul Asylum, and Evan Dando.  And since I will be (hooray!) seeing the Del-Lords again this coming weekend, I expect I'll be rhapsodizing soon about them too. But first, there's a deadline looming; I need to keep tinkering with Love, Lucy , responding to copy edits, smoothing out the sentences.  So here I go, off to the Firenze in my mind.  While I'm gone, here's one more thing that's been echoing between my ears: this breathtaking song from Wesley Stace's new album--for your listening enjoymen...

photo by Jeff Gemmill Wesley Stace is a marvel.  His songs are pure catnip for a listener who cares about lyrics--smart, bitingly funny, deeply moving.  The music itself? lush, evocative, at times downright gorgeous.  For 25 years, Wes recorded songs under the name John Wesley Harding, but these days he's decided to just be himself.  His new album, Self-Titled , was just released--the first ever under his given name.  Here's a newly released official video: It's a great album, thematically unified, strong from start to finish. And then there's Wes's other career: writer.   His fourth novel is due out soon.  Does the guy ever sleep? Anyway, we saw his show last night at Philadelphia's World Cafe Live, and the thing is, he's a total showman too.  And a nice guy to boot, which we know because he hangs out at the merch table afterwards, saying hi to his fans.

For reasons I won't go into, it's been a ridiculous couple of weeks.  REE-DIC-U-LOUS.  Live music is one of my favorite coping mechanisms, and this month the concert calendar stars align beautifully.  Let the coping begin! Tonight I will be seeing the incredible Wesley Stace: And here's a song that sums it up beautifully.  I may not play the drums, but "instead of taking an axe to the whole damn place," I do rock out to them:

Today Andre helped me put up the beginnings of a rock and roll memorabilia wall.  On the left we've got an autograph and two picks from Eric "Roscoe" Ambel of the Del Lords.  And on the right we've got a ticket from Fairleigh Dickinson University's 2010 WAMFest which featured a conversation/concert with Bruce Springsteen and poet laureate Robert Pinsky, moderated by John Wesley Harding, a.k.a. Wesley Stace.  If you squint, you'll see that my ticket was autographed by Wes and by Bruce.  Robert Pinsky remains the one that got away! We've got a lot of concerts lined up for October, so I'm hoping my wall will get some new swag soon. And though it's already hanging on a different wall (with my other favorite memorabilia--poetry broadsides by Charles Simic and Richard Wilbur) I have to share one of my very favorite souvenirs: The day the Advanced Review Copies of my novel Catherine  first reached me also happened to be the day Andr...

The clock is ticking.  Tomorrow's the deadline for turning in my latest revision of Love, Lucy. I think I can make it, provided I don't get distracted by my nemesis, the internet. While I struggle to and find synonyms for the word "ridiculous," which I seem to have used 97 times in 270 pages, here is a video from one of my musical heroes, the remarkable Wesley Stace. Wes is both a novelist and a singer-songwriter.  Until now he has always recorded under the name John Wesley Harding.  His new album, Self Titled , comes out today. Congratulations, Wes!