Sorry about the light posting – I’ve been traveling. As far as I’m concerned, the best thing about air-travel (besides the safety aspect) is that I get to read novels. For some reason, I’ve decided that I can’t work or sleep on planes, so I always make sure that my carry-on bag is stuffed full of fiction. On my last flight, I consumed Unaccustomed Earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I won’t bore you with my praise, but it’s a remarkable collection of short stories. The sheer fluidity and poise of her writing is, as a fellow writer, somewhat depressing. She makes it look so easy. I’m really curious about her early drafts, and how she pares down her prose, so that it’s so precise and taut.