Wednesday, April 22, 2009
i have writ about the ritin of lydia copeland, who she just cum out with a chapbook of short wurks name of 'haircut stories.'
i gut me one by droppin by the site above, whar ye kin also read sum blurbs on the book.
tiz a slim volume but each of the lil flash fickshun pieces in it remind me a lil of the tent harry potter wuz usin in the last book: frum the outside, they look tiny, but ifn ye stop inside, a hole worl opens up. each time ye read one of these lil prose pomes, witch thats how they wurk on ye, thays a lil more that ye notiss n larn. one piece name of 'haircut' kep growin in strangth till it seemd lack i couldnt read it without gittin tears in my eyes. thays a grater sense of depth each time ye read inny of em. i have dun red the hole thang about six times, but i aint tired of it yet.
i real eyes ye gut to watch yer dollars, witch tiz a good reason not to git a copy of shoot the devil on a counta tiz a bit pricey. i wish i could do sumthin bout that. on tuther hand, ye kin git ye a copy of haircut stories fer lil or nuthin. n ever time ye read it, ye will git a lil more of a story than the time befor.