Michael Berger is a barely-published writer and book-seller living in San Francisco. He is one of the founding Corsairs of the Iron Garters Bike Club and is currently pursuing a degree in applied pataphysics. He sometimes eats oatmeal for dinner.
At The Millions, a handful of writers are throwing down their two cents for the best books of the Millenium so far. Among the more moving reviews is Bret Anthony…
Amidst all the bad news afflicting writers these days, especially good writers (not Dan Brown), it’s refreshing to see that an organization of smart, cultured rich people has an uncanny…
The other day I was walking down Mission Street in San Francisco and I saw a billboard on the side of a passing bus that read, “Imagine No Religion.” It…
“Yet some scientists are suggesting that depression — peculiarly prevalent for a mental disorder — is not a malfunction at all, but an evolutionary adaptation, a state of mind which…
Kafka. Joyce. Woolf. Dickens. Nabokov. All of these writers have become adjectives. (Arguably, “Kafkaesque” is the most overused one of the mix. And “Nabokovian” the least-earned moniker.) Just last April,…
I spend a lot of my time rediscovering things. It’s a nifty, almost unconscious trick. All it necessitates is wandering through a landscape, engaging with reality and picking up on…
I think I was twelve when I first heard the word Bohemia. I didn’t really know what it meant but it conjured up a mist-drenched, mountainous region where men in…
“According to the Post-Gazette article, writers are realizing how great Pittsburgh is, and moving there en-masse. “Of course, the article makes clear, it’s not about the money (there is not…
There is no place on earth like Los Angeles. But everyone knows this. Yet perhaps there is not a single place on earth where the end of the world will…
“Yet if the injustices that women in poor countries suffer are of paramount importance, in an economic and geopolitical sense the opportunity they represent is even greater. There’s a growing…
Of the many professors of literature I had at Santa Cruz, none captured my imagination or gained my admiration so much as the Classics professors did. Not that I was…
“Sometimes there would be an isolated house hanging onto the edge of an open field of shadows and shattered glass. And the house would be so contorted by ruin that…