Writer
The next book is called They Lived They Were at Brighton Beach. And this post is a respite from feeling like I have to work at it. Thank you post! What else compares to the chasm between inching forward in life and looking back to see how far one has come? Nostalgia wins every time. […]
A shout out to Michael, my friend who tugged at my writer’s collar the other day, asking, When are you going to start blogging again? So here I am. Not necessarily at his behest, but reminder. It’s nice to feel this digital cauldron burns again for hungry readers. A lot has happened since […]
Alright, yall. This post has to happen. It has to. The feels need lines. My life, over a lined loose leaf, hole-punched, types. Prompted? A little. Go. I’m writing on the Uber to JFK. Lots of items got lost, left, in the last minute packing. Blankeys gone, knicknacks patty wacks gone, clothes from Austin, NY, […]
To borrow from a professor of mine, about analyzing literature, you should do three things to understand and share your understanding of a work: 1. Quote it. 2. Comment on it. 3. Question it. With this formula, the QCQ, let us speak to this 2013 novel about a writer who descends into hallucinatory darkness, predilection […]
Noé? Who he? Only one of my top three favorite directors. Ever since I watched his 2002 Irréversible, and it hit me in the stomach with a glass fist, I have been a junkie, in debt to him and his style. Inside his career’s stash box one finds films, music videos, screenings at Cannes, […]
Later that night, Ana walked to the bar to prove to Lindsey that the lighter still worked. She had called the lighter broken. “Fill it up then,” Lindsey replied, with her usual big smile, “and bring it tonight.” The gravity of these words did not escape Ana, who muttered, “T-tonight, t-to UFO?” “Yes, to […]
🌑 To be in any form, what is that? If nothing lay more developed the quahaug and its callous shell were enough. Mine is no callous shell, I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop, They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me. I merely stir, press, feel […]
The twins left. It was only Morgan and me in the apartment—Oslo ice blue as ever, sweet; distant Earth—we woke up late, scrambled up some sardines for breakfast and sat around all day watching videos on YouTube. There was stillness in that apartment, stillness and the occasional laugh from a funny video. Morgan and I […]
