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.
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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.”
She stops to look into her mother's face. It is smooth and blank as a stone. Nothing emerges; nothing shifts.
The author of Migrations on connecting to the natural world, activist privilege, and creatureliness.
A COVID pregnancy is riddled with small, subtle losses.
Is that bizarre? he asked. That such a brief experience of love was too much?
Talking to the author of The Sprawl about teen rage, community disconnection, and building better suburbs.
The author of little scratch on rape narratives and the brutality and permanence of language.
He had Alex now, he thought. He wouldn’t feel those old pangs. But the loneliness greeted him like a—well, not so much like an old friend. But. You know. Like loneliness.