In the last four weeks I have moved across the country, collected and constructed all new furniture, survived eight days in Cuba, and taken over a failing project at work. I’ve managed to keep meditating, studying Spanish, and enjoying myself through it all. I haven’t managed to keep up with writing. At all.

I’ve finished The Corrections, A Wrinkle in Time, The Invisible Man, and Bel Canto. I’ve not written about any of them. And after a week of fresh hell in Cuba, I have thousands of words that could be written just about that experience. Plus, there are a whole host of bands that I could be researching in preparation for Bunbury.

I am declaring blog bankruptcy on the blogs that should be written about those books. The Corrections captured the desperation of the suburbs and the sickness that can be passed between dysfunctional family generations with jarring clarity. If there are only enough spare minutes for one book, The Corrections is that book. With that mile-wide brush stroke, I can attempt to capture Cuba with words.