A while back, someone on Zoetrope talked about “literary crushes” – a desire to become close to a writer not for romantic or sexual gratification, but purely to admire his/her work. Since I’ve never been one of those who does the “Oh, I love So-and-So” – I like individual works but might not like someone’s other stuff, even in genre fiction when series people start a new series, especially in literary fiction – I never paid much attention. But now I understand.
I want to follow Steve Almond around and catch the crumbs that drop from his plate. I actually gave serious thought to going to one of his classes some day when I’ve finally written a few stories that are, you know, not terrible. That would of course mean getting additional money to go with the $1700 insurance thing that’s still sitting in the bank.
And I want a print of that photo of Rachel Maddow that MSNBC is using as promo for the “Lean Forward” thing, where she’s kneeling on the floor looking at papers, wearing her geek glasses. I still can’t believe how much like a teenager she looks when not in camera getup. I really don’t want to get naked with her, though, just be a fly on the wall when she does her work. I still worry that she goes a little over the top with some things, and she knows damn well what some of these people mean when they say stuff that sounds funny. And she rephrases too much. But I adore her anyway, so I’ll give her a pass, but I’ll also keep in mind that I’m not going to follow her blindly off a cliff. Unless it isn’t a very high cliff.