books i miss

I'm still not ready to write anything about American Apparel. I spoke to a cashier/model at the store in Santa Monica and she told me that the "flagship store" (a real quote, here) is a t-shirt stand on the corner of E. Second Street and South Central Avenue. I checked the website and this address is just a regular American Apparel store in Little Tokyo. Either the cashier/crackhead doesn't know what company she works for, or she doesn't know how to read. So far so good, I guess.

While the research continues, I'll pass the time with the first-annual "Books I've Lost" list: 2007. This is a list of books I own(ed) which went missing in the past 12 months, either because I lent them to someone and forgot who (to whom?), or they were lost by me in my typical Cronopio carelessness.

1. CA Conrad, Deviant Propulsion. I got this book autographed at the book release at the Kelly Writer's House, before I'd ever heard Conrad read. By the time I had my first conversation with him about books, his had gone missing.

2. Robert Creeley, The Island. I'm pretty sure I left this in my old office at Temple. Though Brandon is shaking his head no, I thought it was very good.

3. Julio Cortázar, A Manual for Manuel. I think this book disappeared the same night I threw a house-warming party on 9th Street in South Philly.

4. Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire. I'm almost certain Brandon Holmquest borrowed this before I had a chance to finish it. I only read the Introduction, 13 pages of black humor and painfully vivid description. These pages alone could serve as a whole course in dramatic structure. So enjoy it while you can.

5. J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey. A friend borrowed this and I never told her I moved to LA. I still haven't. It's gone now.

6. Thomas Bernhard, Old Masters: A Comedy. Assigned by Sandra Newman in a Creative Writing seminar I took with her, but we never read it in class. Very possibly still in a shipping box in the Temple mail room.

7. Roberto Bolaño, Putas Asesinas. Had this book abroad; it may not have made it back.

8. Jaime Bayly, El Huracán Lleva Tu Nombre. You may know him from the movie remake of his La mujer de mi hermano, a shitty soap opera. But this one is an amazing book about a psycho ex-girlfriend. This play off the "mad woman in the attic" trope is from the perspective of a guy who comes out to her. I wanted to translate this one but the author didn't return any of my dozen emails. He's a bigtime TV celebrity in Miami. Oooh...

9. Gabriel García Márquez, Strange Pilgrims and the Spanish original. Counted as one because I want to include...

10. Franz Kafka, The Castle. I began this on the Orange Line in Philly on fine day. I think I lost it transferring to the El.

Adieu, books. Auld lang syne and all that mess.