The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
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The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
Standing in the wreckage of these spaces unlocks a sensation people often crave, but can’t name.
It’s an imagined past, a pastoral imaginary, an alternate timeline in the multiverse.
“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
Butches, Femmes, and Mobsters: Inside the world of America's early drag superstars.
Talking with the author of Beatlebone about fictionalizing the life of John Lennon, the hard time Kate Bush gets in the book, and why rock novels are almost always disasters.
My desire to live without violence aligned nicely with my desire to be thin—at least on the outside.