Writing is a solitary venture that can get very lonely. I like having the presence of other writers around and just thinking about writing can generate a spark.
I like books that mean something in and outside of their own narratives, impacting my worldview. The stirring can be felt in beautiful writing, or powerful concepts, deep analysis, or emotion that resonates off the page.
I wanted my novel, Lesser Ruins, to feel at ease getting lost, to relish in its obsessions and procrastinations, from long descriptions of electronic music to digressions about coffee to the strange, suffocating world of academia.
Some of the work is simply slowing down visitors and sustaining their attention long enough for the pieces to click together, or for their perspective to shift, or for a light bulb to—literally—go off.
Sometimes, the phrase “formally inventive” ends up being used as a polite synonym for “highbrow, but boring” (or “man, I couldn’t really follow the narrative of this book at all”).
Last year was officially the hottest year on record. Deadly wildfires tore through Maui and Canada. Orange skies hung over New York City full of smoke and ash. Extreme floods…
Falling in love for the first time or millionth time—or potentially final time—is never for the faint of heart. Love is messy, reckless, changeable. Love can be unkind, selfish, gut-wrenching,…