Instead of finishing Kerouac’s Big Sur, I picked up Richard Brautigan’s first published novel, A Confederate General in Big Sur and read the kernel of thousands of student fiction theses. This was on the shelf of the place where we’re staying at in Big Sur, which is mostly stocked with hiking guides, computer programming guides, history books, and trashy mystery novels. Finished it outside of Julia Pfeiffer’s house near McWay Falls while M took pictures with the DSLR. It’s an interesting book, a quick read, although I think the timing of its humor has come and gone, whether that was the 1960s or my early 20s.
Nobody won the Pulitzer this year. The correct choice would have been Denis Johnson’s Train Dreams. I remember loving that story when it came out in the Paris Review back in 2003, and I wish I had my copy of it here while I listen to the woods of Big Sur.