One more hit: reading ‘The Journalist and the Murderer’ for Serial Addicts

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Are there three words in the English more disheartening than “no unplayed episodes,” (maybe “you have gonorrhoea,” but only by a hair)? After twelve weeks of hand-wringing¬†episodes from the podcast¬†Serial, I found myself, at the end of December, without a mystery to solve. The series had ended and a new season wouldn’t be coming for at least a year. This was particularly disconcerting because my job provides two weeks of holiday for Christmas and the New Year so I would be waiting in airports, taking long car rides, going for leisurely runs through the city, all without the benefit of Sarah Koenig to keep my brain busy.

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‘Sidewalks’ by Valeria Luiselli Leaves you Wanting More

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The English translation of Valeria Luiselli’s essay collection Sidewalks is a slim volume that you can finish in an afternoon or on a couple of commutes to and from your job in the city. You’ll be sad to see it end when you look back out the streetcar window at a place less beautiful than what Luiselli describes in her book. Because you are more mature than me, your first thought won’t be “oh cool, another successful work of creativity by someone younger than I am.” You’ll probably just think you want more.

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Fathers be good to your daughters and read Walter Isaacson’s The Innovators

FULL_SIZEI received a reminder from the Toronto Public Library that my copy of Walter Isaacson’s The Innovators was due on Thursday December 4th. I started reading it a week ago and was only about halfway through, so I knew I had to pick up the pace. It’s a big book so I haven’t been bringing it to read on my commute (part of the reason it’s taking me so long to get through) but today I relented and dragged the book along. Standing at the corner of Bloor and Ossington, waiting for a streetcar at 7:45 this morning, I pulled the book out of my bag. It’s a cold day, but I was wearing gloves and a toque so I stood outside instead of in the crowded bus shelter.

A minute later – “plop.”

I looked around, confused at first about where the sound had come from, but then I looked down. Pages 245 and 246 were covered in green and white pigeon shit.

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Please listen to Serial so we can trade conspiracy theories

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Searching my phone for a photo to accompany an unplanned blog post is always a fun exercise. Today you get a screenshot.

Serial isn’t a book but it is a piece of reporting (piece of art? piece of work?) that I am currently obsessed with because it is brilliant but no one else in my circle seems to be talking about it.

(What’s up Toronto friends? You’re too cool for pod casts now?)

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How to write a memoir, how to be a genius and other lessons from Questlove the Great

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This photo isn’t from a Roots show. I promise that I’ve been to both a Roots concert and to see Questlove DJ in the past six months, but I was too overcome by genius at both events to snap pics.

Is there anything better than a music man? I read Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson’s memoir Mo’ Meta Blues during my vacation last week and it confirmed the things I already thought about Questlove and The Roots. Questlove is a better musician than you are. He may not be as cool as you but he has access to cooler things and people than you do. He’s definitely smarter than you.

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