He’d be buried in the town he so desperately wanted to leave.
Progressive stages of revision eliminate incidence in favor of essence.
My grandfather committed my grandmother to a mental asylum.
Neither blood nor belonging accounted for my presence in Ghana.
The survival of our world depends upon the cultivation of better language.
Advance planning was never Hank’s strong suit, he had to leave her.
I rented a house in the woods of East Hampton as a form of therapy.
Fiction, no matter how short or long, is the art form of human yearning.
I should never have the notebook and the pencil in the right pockets.
Women should hate it when people whistle at their backs as they walk past.
Later, in a sudden about-face, she gives herself to him entirely.
I grew accustomed to seeing the sun rise and set from the school.
Why kill something so mild-mannered, entertaining, and sociable?
I’m a theatrical lyricist. I would never choose to look fat in public.
They do good things for us, the bats. But we do not want them there.
We loaded the packs and started down, into the bluing of dusk.
Your writing may need to be ruthless or amoral to be original.
This Lee was a woman, and she was a painter, and she was good.
The store was one of his last-ditch efforts to make a pile of money.
I loved hopping freight trains. It was cheap, dirty, and dangerous.
Diane cupped my cheek in her hand, studying me, memorizing me.
In the street waiting for a cab, Ann’s boyfriend entrusted me with the story.
I would chase it to the shores of the lake where the killer waited.
It is our nature to conform; it is a force which not many can resist.
Early on, Castro learned and opposed the unfairness of things.
Tonight these writers lower their eyes and silence their words.
My grandfather has a space where the tip of his thumb should be.
Soon I will walk up those same back steps the police took by force.
He didn’t come to arrive, he came to go, and yet that didn’t matter.