Stephen Dadelus' Lonely Heart's Club Band

Made of happy things.

I'm about 40 pages into A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Despite it not being anywhere near my summer reading list, I'm really liking it, and it's only like 300 pages so I might finish it in the next couple of days. Here's an excerpt from "Stick Silvertail", as promised:

Each shipment of goods for the general store meant that Stick would be first in the door the next morning, feeling every fabric and smelling every preserve, as though he had discovered some ancient buried tomb full of luster and magic. Polly introduced him to cakes and muffins and pies, and all other baked foods, and Stick would go to his room at the end of every day and write down a list of all the new things that he had discovered and loved. He would write things like “Horse Shoes” and “Blueberries” and “Chocolate” (this was an especially magical day), “Beans”, “Baked Potato”, “Nails”, and “Knitting”. At first, he had hoped to show his lists to his father, to prove him wrong about the human world, but as the days went by he thought less and less about going back to the manor under the river. He hardly ever went down to see it, and he never crossed the bridge, not knowing that the house on the other side was where he was born.

Sorry that there isn't more, but I really did like that paragraph. If you feel the need to read more, give me your address and I'll mail a copy; it should be done with the editing and such by the end of the weekend.

Also;

Still feeling love, guys. I need to go back in time to the fictional 1930s and propose before my heart just turns to goop and goops out of my belly button, or however that could work metaphorically...