Tao Lin, Richard Yates, & Me
I didn’t enjoy reading Richard Yates all that much, but I like that Lin’s writing has sparked conversations about storytelling, questions about generational gaps between modern readers (this book is sort of the antithesis of the Victorian novel in that young people are more likely to “get it” than older, less-connected, for lack of a better word, readers), and the cult of personality.


I saw Rick Moody read at the James Merrill House in Stonington, CT a year or so ago. He read two stories, the first about a New England family, not unlike those that call Stonington their home, out on their boat, drinking their daiquiris, or something.