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By Mike Palecek (about the author) Page 4 of 6 page(s)
From the truck turning the corner: "Wake up, buddy!"
Dude. I'm doing the best I ... fuck you, too!
I find the rich Irish bar and a parking spot and put in dozens of quarters even though the police don't check meters this late in the day. If I don't put dozens of quarters in, I will die.
And so now I can relax. I know where I need to be. I have time. I go to the bookstore to look around, relax, find a restroom. Rest.
There are escalators in Joseph-Beth, just like in the Rochester, Minnesota Barnes & Noble, very cool.
I look around. I can't really afford any of the books, but I look.
And it seems like they don't mind, so I grab "The Terrorist," and go find a nice place to rest for just awhile. There is a restroom up the escalator. I'm good.
I know it's just me, and I'm not well-read enough, but I don't see what is so special about Updike's book.
And I read one called "Absurdistan" somewhere else and on the back cover they have blurbs from the Washington Post Book World and ten other newspapers that I could not get to look at my books if I included a staah in a jaah.
"The Terrorist" is okay, but it's not one of my books.
Sorry. I really believe that.
My books should be in these places.
They are just as good, better.
Why they aren't here, I can only say has to do with the structure of the book industry, which I probably don't fully understand.
I'm as good as Updike, as anyone, but no agent or major publishing company would give me directions out of town.
www.mikepalecek.com
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