It's been a while since I blogged, much has been going on. Two, almost three books off to press, a translation seminar, books coming in which then have to be mailed out... there are times when it seems life is little more than frames on computer screens and the imaginative use of cardboard boxes (we have recently developed a new, environmentally friendly way of sending out review copies).
Artforum have done an excellent tribute to Karlheinz Stockhausen
Mark Thwaite has also reviewed Stockhausen on Music. Both featuring Robin Maconie prominently.
I went to a translation seminar organized by the British and Arts Councils and many others, the first time anyone has thought to get a group of publishers and translators in a room to discuss how to edit translated manuscripts. Being big on translators we think it's a very good idea, and hope more similar events happen in the future.
With reference to earlier posts, it's a blessing that a photo of my desk was not posted for all to see. It's a disgrace and has been, wherever I have had one, for the last twenty years or so. These fantastic roomy ones just seem to give me more opportunity to make piles, creating a minature paper Gormenghast.
It was also nice of Catheryn to make clear that 'twas not me who spent the mid eighties being sold by Olivetti. My name, usually so pleasantly isolated, has been popping up everywhere recently, twice at my old employ: here and here and even in the crime pages. I'm just waiting for the London Book Fair passes to arrive, confusing my gender as usual...