TRAVEL DAY
I'm on the road now, first to San Francisco and then Seattle, for some readings. I will update as opportunities present from the road, but in the meantime, topping the list of things far worse than recent travails, a writer could have his mother talking smack about him day and night to the press, which is exactly what Madame Houellebecq continues to do, to anyone who will listen:
Then, in 1998, when Houellebecq was at the height of his fame, she says she stumbled upon an article about him winning a literary prize for Atomised. (In the photo he was wearing "the same anorak he had been wearing for years".) She went to a bookshop, picked up Atomised and was furious. "I said, 'Fuck, it's not true.' He described me as a kind of whore, kept by I don't know what American. That's slander. All my life I've toiled to earn money for other people. I want him to apologise. If I was law-suit minded, I would have sued him and won."
I'm not expecting problems, but MOTEV is bound and gagged in the cellar for the duration. Just to be safe. (She's Austrian. It makes a certain kind of sense.)

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