romantic egotism

Today O Fallen Angel is featured on Dennis Cooper's blog - I am more than delighted, as his work is so important to me. Look at my mug all front and center - I look so blase and Eastern European, somehow, very butch and decisive. I am retaking my author photo for the two upcoming books, as I am growing out my hair. Most likely something less severe. And I've taken to wearing sort of butter-yellow clear glasses, so I might wear them in the photo. Always some sort of costume, isn't it.

*Question: Should I wear my glasses in my author photo? I am pasting down below a picture I just snapped of myself at the kitchen table in Mount Prospect. Aren't we narcissistic today. I will most likely remove the picture soon as throughout the day I will grow more nauseous with myself that I posted a picture of myself on my blog.

Also, while I'm on the self-promotion front, Michael Schaub at Bookslut listed O Fallen Angel as one of his favorite books of the year - thanks Michael! 

I am thick into the Fitzgerald biographies for the book, I've started to read for the book! Even marooned here in Chicago. Although I'm reading library versions, from the old Mount Prospect Public Library, as all of my books/bios various on the Fitzgeralds are in boxes en route to nowhere, currently. Thinking of the Fitzgeralds too awash in thingness, in themselves, their romantic egotism. Yesterday I got a pedicure (I noticed my toenails like witch's claws at yoga the other day, the former color from month's ago like a speckled egg) and I chose a glittery silver from the OPI's Swiss collection, which felt like a tribute to Zelda, later on, somehow, as I am now making everything connect (Zelda interned in the Swiss clinic, the French Riv, etc. etc.)

I am considering renaming the essay book CUNT PORTRAITS. What do you think? Too much? Won't get a face-out in Barnes and Noblesse Oblige?