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.
Talking to the author of I Become a Delight to My Enemies about writing as a natural act (or not) that fixes your life (or doesn't), humour as a balm, and the power of shame.
The author of The Secrets We Kept on Doctor Zhivago, the Lavender Scare, and book burning.
A record of my failure to understand the world's greatest living chess player.
The author of Make It Scream, Make It Burn on being skeptical of skepticism and championing the ordinary.
Driving an ambulance in an opioid-torn city in the age of Narcan.