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> a body of work that sets up a sort of boundary

Sorry to skip all of the other lovely things you've written about before this, but this is something that I've been thinking about quite a bit lately, wondering whereabouts I fit into the tradition of boundary-setting—and this is where I find Woolf particularly helpful for me. I'm not yet well-read or experienced enough, but it seems to me that the boundary toward which Woolf was working (if not actually demarcated—though, like /u/LiterallyAnscombe, I think there's plenty of material to further explore) is more discrete, more fragmented across her works than, say, the boundary demarcated by the Wake. I follow in her mostly being preoccupied with Time, but where her primary questions often seemed to be Who or Whom, mine is almost exclusively Where. Elizabeth Bishop, in her "Dimensions for a Novel" essay, has offered me the best ideas where to start, but I'm really beginning to think that setting the boundary of completely evading Time, chronology, temporality in the Novel is entirely beyond my capability. And to some extent, Joyce already does this in the Wake, though I'd like to engage a much more readable style, something more akin to my Guiding Light, The Waves. My "canonical strangeness" (if it's ever to be developed to full maturity) will most likely be quiet and accumulative—perhaps I'll be forgotten even as I'm being read, and somehow that seems appropriate. What I find absolutely fascinating, though, to take a step back to something you mention in an earlier comment I meant to address, I'm not sure if it's our Ultimate Allegiances falling separately to Joyce and Woolf, but I find it interesting that we are essentially working in opposite directions: you would like to concretize that which is air, and I would like to evaporate that which is concrete.

To address the thread you had going over at /r/AskLiteraryStudies, though, The Waves and Between the Acts are easily the two most important works or projects of the last third of Woolf's career. I would also highly, highly suggest trying to find her Writer's Diary. It's not as good as the five-volume set, but it's much easier to find and provides a very respectable introduction to or summary of the complete diaries.

also more bun-buns 4 u

Well, it seems there are some translations by John E. Woods. There's for example a four volume edition of Schmidt's earlier works which I can heartily recommend (at least I've heard that the translation seems to be very good), especially his trilogy Nobodaddy's Children, which consists of the works: Scenes from a Life of a Faun, Brand's Heath and Dark Mirrors. In these early works there is a kind of realism or, in the case of his Sci-Fi stuff (which is really, really weird) at least a strong connection with reality that counterbalances some of his more solipsistic tendencies.

Scenes from a Life of a Faun is set during the Third Reich, Brand's Heath is an autobiographical take on Schmidt's time as a refugee after WWII and Dark Mirrors is a postapocalyptic novel set after a nuclear war, where the narrator (again, a Schmidt surrogate, like all of his narrators) drives through the province of Northern Germany on his bike and, true to Schmidt's misanthropy, he's not that sad about humanity's demise. It sounds very dark, but one of Schmidt's greatest qualities is his humor. He's probably one of the funniest German writers of all time. It's this quality that makes his obnoxious personality bearable (there's a great story about his first meeting with his publisher, which basically consisted of Schmidt hurling insults at him for half an hour).

If you like these three stories, I would recommend to read everything that's been translated by Woods until now, which is quite a lot (Zettels Traum is coming up actually), especially the two novels The Stony Heart and B/Moondocks. If you're interested in his later works (meaning post-Zettels Traum), you could read Evening Edged in Gold and The School for Atheists. If you're interested in explicit sex scenes involving centaurs, read The Egghead Republic.

Edit: If you go to Amazon, you can look at the first pages of the Nobodaddy's Children trilogy to get a first impression of Schmidt's style: http://www.amazon.com/Nobodaddys-Children-Mirrors-Collected-1949-1964/dp/1564780902

You're supposed to say that you've read the the comic book version instead, obviously, and say "yeah yeah this is the case where the graphic novel was better. I bet you haven't even read The Sandman you pleb."

You don't have to write well to be published. You have to write what editors think can sell and poorly written 'well plotted' mysteries sell like hotcakes. After you put out a few books that sell well, publishers get indulgent, which probably explains the poetry.

The Amazon excerpt from the book they mention in the article is as dreadful as I'd expect from someone with Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose as her touchstones.

I also like this edition of Euripides, starring the King of Rock and Roll.

this one is usually recommended.

https://www.amazon.com/Deconstruction-Criticism-Ppr/dp/0826400108

I can't throw stones.

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