SSS on The New Yorker site

April 30th, 2021 | Uncategorized

The Semi-Sadistic Seven Minute Workout

The New Yorker has this excerpt from The Secret to Superhuman Strength up on Daily Shouts. I am entranced with the way it looks on my phone.

Also, there’s a hilarious prose piece by Roz Chast, with whom I will be launching my book Tuesday night at the (virtual) 92nd St. Y. She discusses the terms people use for those meals when they’re using up leftovers. In our house, it’s “pantry party.”

7 Responses to “SSS on The New Yorker site”

  1. Aneliese says:

    Hope you are feeling the love, Alison. The new book is beautiful, cool, wise, funny and amazing.

  2. Mentor says:

    [[AB’s interview about SSS with NPR’s LuLu Garcia-Navarro: [CLICK HERE]. —Mentor]]

  3. Aunt Soozie says:

    I’m a little late to the party but, Hi Alison and hello old friends!! Doctor E sent me a message to let me know you were here. My Aunt (Aunt Soozie has Aunts) sent me an email yesterday to let me know about the virtual event at the Free Library of Philadelphia. Can’t wait to be there!

  4. Mentor says:

    [[The New Yorker’s article about SSS (by Katy Waldman): [CLICK HERE]. —Mentor]]

  5. Alison Bechdel says:

    Hey Aunt Soozie!!! So great to see you here! Looking very forward to the PFL tomorrow. Too bad we can’t all be there in person like before.

  6. Mentor says:

    [[AB appears on Fresh Air with Terry Gross this Weds (5Apr2021): [CLICK HERE]. —Mentor]]

  7. hairball_of_hope says:

    Oh my… what hath time wrought?

    Color changed from the pumpkin background to the ‘Fun Home’ turquoise wash.

    Recollections of our dear Maggie.

    Passing of Alix, of blessed memory.

    And a new Bechdel tome, which I picked up at a suburban Bunns & Noodles during pandemic time when they finally reopened.

    [N.B. I cannot believe I feel an obligation to support a suburban branch of a chain bookstore, but they were on the verge of closing, thanks to the double-whammy of Medusa and Covid.]

    And comments! Comments! The old gang slowly rising from their rocking chairs, their Aeron chairs, rising from their glowing Zoom screens with talking heads arranged Brady Bunch style. To embrace the old blog, which is new again.

    I rise more slowly, too much damn sitting, age and gravity tugging at me. Perhaps AB’s SSS will inspire me to get my butt moving. Of course, I also have RBG’s workout book, and I read it while sitting. And I still sit.

    It feels odd to type my old nom de blog, chosen on Obama’s Inauguration Day. I feel like I have lived at least five or six lives since then.

    I don’t know what the hell happened to the world, but I really missed this community of thoughtful and interesting folks. I could always count on intelligent discourse, civil disagreements, and the occasional recipe that mixed politics with the alimentary.

    There is so much dreck on the Web, the new-fangled equivalent of Newton Minow’s “vast wasteland” of television (which sixty years after that speech, is still a wasteland).

    So please value this space, deposit your thoughts, and stay for a spot of tea or a cuppa joe.

    Y’all come back now, ya hear?

    (…goes back to her glowing rectangle of electrons …)

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