Thus it comes as no surprise to contemporary writers that aside from the occasional public reading, interview, conference, or panel discussion, this business of writing is a solitary act. That’s not a bad thing. However, even if loneliness is a…
“Of course, the ultimate moment of being Female in Public comes when a woman, deep in thought, is told by a strange man to SMILE. (And this happens only to women.) Gentlemen, let’s get this straight. There is no part of my body that belongs to you, not even my facial expression. Stop trying to stake out territory there, whether by legislation or verbal imperative. Plus, it never produces the desired effect.”— Laura Lippman in Female in Public (via thismostamazingday)
“Rocks come at us from all places — from a boy at a birthday party, from those close to us and from strangers, from our city, our country, the world and sometimes from a place within ourselves. They are the difficulties that hurtle through the air. The writer’s job is to pick them up, examine them and use them. This use is a small gesture of control — and generosity. While we can’t throw them back, we can consider their weight, and feel on them the singular imprint of our hands.”—
“This, friends, is the way book events are supposed to be: inspiring, creative, collaborative, and celebratory. They’re supposed to be about community and what it means to share art and a love of the arts. They’re supposed to be fun. More like this, please.”—The Way Book Events Should Be (via bookriot)
LORRIE MOORE'S MOVING TO NASHVILLE! LORRIE MOORE'S MOVING TO NASHVILLE!
…which is proof of what I’ve been saying for the past couple of years: Nashville’s writing scene is gaining some serious street cred.
I mean, holy mo-fo: LORRIE MOORE IS MOVING TO NASHVILLE!
It’s totally true, you guys: she’ll be teaching in Vanderbilt’s MFA program beginning fall 2013. Which means we’ll see each other in line for coffee at Bongo Java, exchange polite smiles as we pass on the sidewalk in front of Ben & Jerry’s, and drunkenly nod to each other at the Yazoo brewery some lonely, balmy autumn eve. She could move to our block, borrow eggs for a pie, pet my fat pug, compliment us on our herb garden.
And the whole time, I would stand there, slack-jawed and mute. Probably not unlike when a tween spots Taylor Swift buying bubble gum and slap bracelets in an airport gift shop. Because OMG LORRIE MOORE.
It could happen. It could really, seriously happen.
“I saw the peculiar way America creeps up on you if you don’t have anything,” he told me. “It’s never rude. It’s just, Yes, you do have to work 14 hours. And yes, you do have to ride the bus home. You’re now the father of two and you will work in that cubicle or you will be dishonored. Suddenly the universe was laden with moral import, and I could intensely feel the limits of my own power. We didn’t have the money, and I could see that in order for me to get this much money, I would have to work for this many more years. It was all laid out in front of me, and suddenly absurdism wasn’t an intellectual abstraction, it was actually realism. You could see the way that wealth was begetting wealth, wealth was begetting comfort — and that the cumulative effect of an absence of wealth was the erosion of grace.”—George Saunders (via 100yearsoflolitude)
“Some albums you can listen to while you’re having sex and some albums you can’t (I’m looking at you, John Vanderslice). Some music makes you want to drive in the desert, some makes you want to sit and cry in the rain. I’d be willing to bet that most music writers listened to Elliott Smith’s Either/Or more times this year than they did to Kanye West. The more obsessed we are with awards and lists—the further we get from truly appreciating things—the less we’re really living.”—John Roderick, “Top 10 Reasons I Hate Year-End Top-10 Lists” [via] (via merlin)
“I just saw that video for the first time… I think I can do that move. But I’m not sure that the inauguration ball is the appropriate time to break that out. Maybe do it privately for Michelle.”—Barack Obama on the dance from “Gangnam Style” (via buzzfeed)
Even in the face of tragedy, the buying of expensive crap must go on. At least, if you’re Oprah. And so, while entire towns are still closed off in New Jersey and children in Staten Island don’t have shoes, Oprah released a resurrected version of her famed Favorite Things list filled with even higher frivolity-level tchotchkes than usual. WORST TIMING EVER, OPRAH. Couldn’t you at least wait for the smoke over Breezy Point to clear?
From a $2,700 mattress to a $500 fan, Oprah’s list showcased items far beyond the reach of most consumers. We’ve picked out the most oblivious, tone-deaf bits and rated them for you on a scale of one to five Paltrows, in honor of Goop matron Gwyneth, a pioneer in out of touch rich lady recommendations.
“Don’t sell that collection until everything in it is the best goddamn thing you’ve even written. And even then, cut the weakest best. Cut more. Write better. Cut more. Write best. Then send it out.”—Amber Sparks, “How NOT to Put Together a Short Story Collection,” HTML Giant