Someone is trying to sell copies of our old friend Amy Fusselman’s wonderful little zine, “Bunny Rabbit,” online for $750. (They’re worth every penny, by the way.) For those of you that don’t have that kind of money, she’s also got a new book out. It’s called “8: A Memoir.” I haven’t read it yet, but, if it’s anywhere near as good as her bestselling debut, “The Pharmacist’s Mate,” it’ll be well worth the investment of time and money. If you want to take a test drive before shelling out your hard-earned money, though, try this piece of hers that just ran in the “New York Times Magazine” a few weeks ago. Or, better yet, read this story of hers from “Crimewave” #6. It’s about clown college. Here’s how it opens: “Clowns thrill me. I like talking to them. I have a feeling that someday one of them is going to tell me something very important about my life.”
Litterary success could not find a more deserving person.
(I’m not sure when I started calling her “Fusselhead,” or why… I want to say that it was her idea, but I’m not sure.)
2 Comments
How funny — I knew amy fusselman a hundred years ago and I always think (lovingly) of her as amy fusselhead, too.
OK, then I feel better. Since you know her as Fusselhead too, it must have been her idea… I’d been afraid that maybe it was something that I’d thought up, and that she’d hated. (Kind of like how I was called Maynabird in grade school by a few kids.)