After having spent the last few years in the sunless territories of Northern England, I've recently fled to North Carolina, where I spend my free time eating fish tacos, sleepwalking through closed grocery stores, and teaching my daughter what Spring is.
I like novels about jazz musicians that are mistaken for spies, and short stories about Japanese cab drivers who commune with the moon. I like songs about cigarettes, and poems about being alone at night. I like geographical surveys about vanished rivers, and sometimes I like diaries, but only if they contain loose treasure maps.