In this week’s Recommended Reading, Wynter K Miller (Wynter K Miller) recommends “No Picnic” by Caroline Beimford (Caroline Beimford), in which a strategic operations specialist must disrupt her Democratic booster grandmother’s wedding to a Republican. buff.ly/3RtzwaV

Joy Williams, forever and ever.

Dr. Ruth & Richard Simmons passing on the same weekend like they’re coming for all of the Hollywood Squares panelists at once.

Best take I've seen so far in regards to Trump's assination attempt.

“Well, fuck the plot! That is for precocious schoolboys. What matters is the imaginative truth.” —Edna O’Brien buff.ly/49sDKXk

Anyway she’s Gen X and this picture proves it

And do what, empathize?

Tim Walz restored an International Scout. Is the world ready for Diamond Tim?

Guy can make sure Kamala has the right setup for her vinyl.

Love this by Jason Diamond. I co-own a bookshop. What many men don’t seem to want is to pay anywhere from $14 (paperback) to $35 (hardcover) to learn that there is a world outside them that requires grace and nuance to navigate and doesn’t exist to be conquered.

Loved this from Louis Menand’s New Yorker piece about bookstores in the age of internet homogenization.

While people reignite the Blur vs. Oasis debate I’ll be listening to Suede.

Lorenzo Music, who voiced Garfield in the animated specials (and Carlton the Doorman on Rhoda), volunteered at a suicide hotline. Distressed callers would get distracted because they thought they were talking to Garfield.

Nanowrimo is already the epitome of turning art making into a joyless box to check, fuck the journey get me to the destination, so the attitude checks out, frankly.

"If every photograph is an accidental death, as I think Sontag or Barthes might have said, then my mother died many times over. . . ." Neil Serven's story "Red Eye," this week's miCRo, shows us how photographs can reintroduce us to those we love: buff.ly/3T7Cbrs

how I hate disease, it’s like worrying that comes true and it simply must not be able to happen in a world where you are possible my love nothing can go wrong for us, tell me theparisreview.org/poetry/7118/so…