La Virgen Cabeza, by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara (what a great name, no?). One of the writers who leapt to mind for her when I asked Angélica Gorodsicher last October, “who else should I read?” A striking, unexpected voice, just enough left unexplained, left for the reader to assemble. Fast moving, abrasive yet sympathetic. And having just visited Tigre, the parts of the novel set in the Delta were that much easier for me to visualize.
Ecuador guidebooks–I’m planning a trip, and I haven’t been in a while. The broad outlines of the itinerary are already drawn, but there are options to consider, possibilities. I know guidebooks are retro–I’m probably supposed to get all my information online, and the books themselves are full of links. But I like to read them, to flip back and forth between regions, think about transport, places to stay, highlights. Places I’ve never been, so wouldn’t think to look up. For me, guidebooks are still an efficient way to pull details and questions together.
Alice Munro’s stories, one collection a Christmas gift from my daughter, another collection from the public library. Every fourth sentence, there’s something I want to read aloud, or reread, and reread again. Tight, exact, unexpected and yet wholly believable character descriptions, a final surprise often more at the level of motivation (and layers of motivation) than plot or event.
Victor Hugo Rascón Banda, in preparation for the Latin American Studies Association congress in New York in the spring. I’ll be serving as discussant for a Latin American theater panel, so this is my chance to learn about a few more plays (one of the panelists will speak on Rascón Banda).
Terrenal, by Mauricio Kartun, one of the plays I saw last fall in Buenos Aires, at the Teatro del Pueblo, a full house, enthusiastic audience, nimble wordplay, strong acting, just enough visual comedy to keep my non-Spanish speaking companion almost engaged. A wonderful performance I felt lucky to see; I’m looking forward to diving into the text and reliving it in my imagination.
And Eleven Eleven #19. A little self-serving to put it here, and it’s not in the photograph, but I keep giving my copies away before I can sit down and read it all the way through. I’m feeling proud and happy to have a story (“Fishbowl”) in the journal, and to be in such good company (with lots of translation, too) and in such a visually pleasing format (great cover). 
Freezing rain outside tonight, should be a good day for reading tomorrow.