As if I even needed a reason to put aside the two stacks of narrative essays I'd like to hand back tomorrow, I came home today to find the latest issue of Oxford American magazine today. At once, everything on my to-do list for tonight shifted down a notch.
I've been a subscriber for years--lasting through all the near-death experiences of the magazine, which calls itself "The Southern Magazine of Good Writing." I find all my favorite Southern writers there, and discover a few new ones each time. To tell you what kind of magazine it is: I even read all the bios of the contributors to each issue. Every year they publish a music issue that comes with a CD. It stays in my player for weeks--always a great mix of Southern music--a category that defies definition.
Today's issue has enough on the cover to drag me in--Southern literature--Thomas Wolff, Eudora Welty, Flannery O'Connor--just for starters. And all those little cards in magazines I usually rip out and toss? They're just in time for Christmas shopping. I may fill out a few.