Those of you who don't consider sports "boring" probably appreciated the work of art that was the Suns' walloping of the Mavericks last night. They played a perfect basketball game for 48 minutes. It was art and it was beautiful to watch. Finally, the hoops cognoscenti (and kill me for just typing that term) is waking up from a 15-year dream to realize that basketball can look like this and can be played like this. Or maybe this is the dream. Or, as my favorite author named Jonathan said, "maybe time is the wound." Indeed.

Last night's game reminded me of the 18th book I've read this year, Italo Calvino's Cosmicomics. Admittedly, this was a re-read, but it's been at least a decade, if not more. I recommended this book to one of my satire-writing students at Salon last semester and then couldn't remember if it were satire or not. I think it qualifies, if only because Calvino creates characters out of molecular particles and gives them human qualities. This gives him wide berth to satirize our insecurities and foibles. Anyway, it's a really fun book, though not my favorite Calvino. That would be Difficult Loves, his book of World War II stories, which dabbles in realism to great effect. So yes, Calvino.

Now I have a small backlog. I went to the public library here looking for new books by A.L. Kennedy, Bruce Wagner, Seth Greenland, and Sam Lipsyte, but this is not a top-20 library market and I ended up walking out with earlier books from some of those authors. Stupid libraries. But a book doesn't have to be published this year to be good, right? Right.

Speaking of my Salon class, another round of classes starts next week. If you're interested in studying at the feet of the master, go here to read more. Also, coming this summer, I'm teaching a noir writing workshop! That should be a real tightrope act. Come along if you dare.

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