Some things have hung around for a while. These Days Are Ours by Michelle Haimoff is one, and I meant to say something by now. This book reminds me of a young Richard Price, circa Ladies Man. Someone has to write about 9-11 NYC and their name doesn’t have to be McInerney. There is this weird light that is captured in a few novels, especially ones about NYC in the last ten years. I’m sure that’s a generalization. Certainly, it is not to be overlooked because it is actually being published. Haimoff is a very slick and polished writer, and I can’t figure out why this book didn’t get more praise.

I relish the chance to read The Uninvited Guests, from Sadie Jones, 5-12, and flipped it open briefly wondering how she’s gotten past me all these years.

Vintage sent me something way early, The McSweeney’s Book of Politics and Musicals, which is rather mystifying, because I don’t know why McSweeney’s does not publish this themselves, some of the notables included in this book: Ben Greenman, Jesse Eisenberg, Stephen Elliott, David Rees, and many more. I think when you put your head down on the pillow at night, a book about politics and musicals is certainly something you can feel good about.

The new Jim Lynch just arrived, about Seattle (Maslin likened it to the Parallax View, which is a tall order, as that movie is one sharp tack), called, Truth Like The Sun, and it seems to be packing so much between it’s covers that I’m in awe. Being a Seattle native and a Lynch fan, it is really nice to have a new novel from him.

Finally, J. Robert Lennon has a new book, coming 10-12, called Familiar. I picked it up in my travels to the independents, and can’t put it down.

A recent conversation with a prominent bookseller, who, well, it doesn’t matter who it is, just that we agreed that there hasn’t really been a novel that has blown us away. It is hard to recall the last time that happened. Mr. Peanut, The Imperfectionists? I might faint if Tom Rachman wrote a new book, actually I might anyway…faint.