Mural on the Philly housing project neighboring Poe's house

As people close to me know, I’ve been obsessed with Edgar Allan Poe and Poe’s houses for quite a while. Even though I wrote a fiction manuscript at Bennington for my MFA thesis, I was able to sneak in a non-fiction essay on Poe’s houses because I did a third-semester genre switch. The lecture then became the beginnings of my graduate lecture, and now one of many reincarnations of the essay is in the Fall issue of Tin House, coming out any day now. I feel thanks and gratitude to all those who encouraged my Poe project along the way. An excerpt of the essay is now up online at Tin House.

This is my view every time I leave my apartment building. The mansion, now apartments, was built by the man who invented Chiclets. Mr. Selden tells me that it is also one of the most haunted buildings in Brooklyn. He’s heard that three servants once died in a fire while stuck in the elevator. I have no idea where he gets his information.

Photo credit: Brownstoner

This is the stack of books next to my bed. Actually, it is four stacks of books. This is the first photo in a series I call Bookstacks Around My 650-sf Apartment. In my fantastical universe, bookstack, like haystack, is one complete, excellent word. Do not scoff. Mr. Merriam-Webster agrees with me. See, the word is so good it is only in his “premium” edition. Also, I clearly don’t understand how to load pictures properly on this blog, because I checked the box to have the text appear under the photo.

On Tuesday, I made my first blog post. Immediately I noticed that the whole endeavor felt somehow dated (not that I mind being out of fashion). Today, it seems The Economist agrees with me. And Prince, suffering from a Nietzsche complex, double-doggie agrees. Another thing I’ve noticed: having hopped over blogging, and started my first efforts of Internet expression with Twitter, I’m having trouble with the length of blog posts. Short and staccato is seemingly all I know. This post seems novel-length to me.

Let’s get this awkward first-post thing over with. There. Whew. What year is this? I’m disoriented.