Literary life...

I recently came across a brief autobiographical essay by Elif Batuman, a lecturer in literature at Stanford University:

Confessions of an Accidental Literary Scholar

I admire her ability to stay true to what felt right to her, as a developing writer and scholar of literature, and not to take for granted the steps one is "supposed" to take to become a writer (e.g., get an MFA, go to writers colonies, etc)...of course, I am sure part of my fondness for this essay also stems from my shared love of Russian literature (which I recently started studying) and my own budding career in higher education (well, "budding career" might be a bit excessive, but I sure do love spending time in the libraries of the campus where I work).

On a side note...

I've had a few celebrity sightings in the retail store I manage, but yesterday's sighting was the funnest to date (yes, sometimes "funnest" is a real word).

Yesterday, I sold a pair of reading glasses to Steven Tyler of Aerosmith fame (or Liv Tyler's father fame, depending on your point of view).
He looked like a total rockstar. I think rockstars aren't allowed to leave their homes unless they have on the tight pants/vintage-y tight button down shirt uniform. I base this theory solely on my single Steven Tyler interaction and my sales interaction with Ric Ocasek years ago (he bought some colored pencils from me at an art supplies store. I definitely remember some purple velvet in the ensemble).

The only thing that could have made yesterday's experience more awesome would have been if Stevey had broken into song. It almost happened...he started improvising a tune under his breath to the world music pumping through the store's speakers. So close!