Walked out of the coffee shop and saw the neighbors were having a stoop sale–again. Last week I bought a copy of Derrida’ Writing and Difference as well as The Philip K. Dick Reader and a thick paperback book of erotic photography from Carroll & Graf. Today I picked up Sontag’s On Photography, Charles Simic’s book on Joseph Cornell, two volumes of Taschen’s 20th century erotic drawings, and Bruce Springsteen’s Pete Seeger sessions album with a bonus DVD. Total outlay: $4. (Aside: Why are these people apparently unloading all of their erotica? Why do I own all of it now?) Then I picked up the mail and found that my awesome new friend the publicist at Alfred A. Knopf, who earlier this week sent me Philip Levine’s new collection, News of the World, sent me two more books: Easy, a new collection of poems by Marie Ponsot, and Robert Altman: The Oral Biography by Michael Zuckoff. I’m excited about all these books, but maybe the Altman most of all. It’s cold and wet here in NYC and the train service is interrupted and pretty much everything sucks. And yet I feel like a million bucks. Thanks, literature!